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Thaddeus Duke · (01-17-2022)

Several Weeks Ago – Location Unknown

Footsteps tap the hard surface below them. Each step reverberates off the walls of this dark corridor. Every few seconds a quick flash of red light reflects off the floor. Soon, the footsteps cease and the creaking sound of a metal door being swung open is heard. Proceeding on, the steps continue and the echoes follow. The blinking red light continues to reflect off of the floor surface.

”Copy,” the augmented voice of a man says. He stops a moment, with a gloved finger to his ear, listening to whomever resides on the other end of his communication device. ”Kill the alarm,” he says. ”Good.”

Taking several steps forward, he stops again. This time, he comes to a roll up security door similar to those that protect closed business in the inner cities. It’s also this moment, we catch a glimpse of the mans face, or more appropriately, his mask. The flashing red light reflecting off the floor was the Purge style mask this man wears to conceal his identity.

”Security door,” the man says to whomever listens on the other end. Moments later, a loud buzzing is heard, similar to electronically locked cell doors in a prison. The masked man reaches down to lift open the gate. It is only now that an object is seen in his right hand. A Louisville Slugger.

With the security door rolled up and out of his way, the blinking red masked intruder proceeds forward. He proceeds with caution, slowly. After a few steps, a motion activated light from above switches on, illuminating the man and the shrine next to him: Jonathyn Brown, former owner of the XWF.

With the bronze statue of Brown himself encased in glass, it’s evident that the intruder is on Hallowed Ground: the XWF Hall of Legends.

”Camera’s are off?” the man asks in his augmented voice as he looks on at the shrine to the famed former XWF owner. ”Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

The man removes his mask.

I fucking hate that thing, he says just as he proceeds down the hall. Every few feet, more overhead lights switch on, illuminating another immortalized legend.

The Brand.

Steve Jason.

The next, Thaddeus takes some interest in: James Raven. He stops and looks on at the shrine. With the Slugger in hand, he taps the glass. I didn’t sleep with Betsy, you idiot, he says aloud to the statue of the all-time great. It’s okay… hate me anyway.

Moving on through the hall. More shrines light up as he passes by.

Lee Stone.

Jem Williams.

Bigg Rigg.

He stops at the next.

Centurion.

Ohhh yeah Cent, he says aloud, tapping the glass with the bat. Now that you’ve run out of excuses as to why you couldn’t, I’mma show you why you shouldn’t.

Aidan Collins. T-Money. Jayzon Williams. Trent Gein.

One by one, the shrines light up and the young Thaddeus takes a glance.

Andrew Gibson. Fuzz.

Ha! Beat him, he says, passing by Shawn Warstein’s shrine. They all Witnessed it.

Raziel. Dynamic Dynamite. Daniel Malcolm. Superballs. Kore. Kitten. Cooper. Mr. Highflyer STS. Golden Boy. Default. Clowns R Us. Extreme Warrior. Wannabe.

Man, some of these guys had weird fucking names.

On and on he goes, down the Hall toward his final destination, passing more recent names like Chris Page and John Madison. His uncle Theo. D’Ville.

Finally, the one he’d been looking for. The shrine for his father, Sebastian Duke. Inside the shrine, the life size statue of the King Of Darkness looms large. Looking inside the shrine, he gives a once over of the most frequent entrance cape his father wore, and every championship his father achieved in his fabled career.

I’mma need some back up, the young man says to his listeners. That thing has gotta weigh 300 plus.

...And the belts, he concludes.

As Thaddeus waits for help to arrive, he twirls the bat in his hands, preparing to swing.

You brought this on yourself, he says to the statue of his father. By being celebrated for being mediocre talent.

He takes a swing with the Slugger as if an apposing pitcher just threw him a hanging curve over the heart of the plate. One swing, one strike, and the large glass case shatters into thousands of tiny shards, raining down on the floor around him as he shields his eyes and face from the falling debris.

Stepping up onto the shrines platform, he places his hand on the statue and gives it a light shove. Barely moving, it quickly settles on its base. Thaddeus tosses the bat to the floor, and rattles across and rolls away. With both hands now, he leans into the statue and pushes. It begins to tip, slowly at first, before gravity takes it’s unrelenting grip and the large bronze Sebastian Duke topples and crashes to the floor with a loud clang.

Down goes the King.

January 13, 2022

Le Procope Cafe || Paris, France || 11:07 AM

Prior to landing here in Paris a day ago, I was made aware of an issue with the landing gear in my plane. As a result, I’ve been forced to weather a longer than usual layover. I can think of worse cities. The plane was ready at 6 this morning… then it wasn’t. It was just about ready at around 10 too, but again it wasn’t. I’d like to be freakin’ furious but I don’t know a damn thing about 747 maintenance or their parts. So rather than getting mad about something I can’t control, I took a walk around Paris, bought something absurdly expensive, and find myself in this cafe that’s been in business for over 300 years.

Waiting in line to order, I try to ignore the English side of the menu, paying attention to only the French side. My French isn’t great, but it’s passable.

”Qu'auras-tu?” asks the young lady behind the counter. ‘What will you have?’

”Grand café noir, un croissant et deux scones à la grenouille,” I answer her. Almost immediately she bursts out into laughter, causing me to feel a little awkward. Nevertheless, I smile. ”Qu'est-ce que j'ai dis?” I ask of her as she tries to stop laughing. ‘What did I say?’

”You ordered ‘two frog scones’,” a rather gorgeous woman behind me chimes in. Turning back to face her a little, my mind wanders just a bit. She’s stunning with a sweet smile. ”Il aura deux scones à la gelée,” she corrects my French.

”Genevieve Tate,” I say aloud, looking over at her.

”Thaddeus Duke,” she replies with her sweet smile.

”Miss Tate, would you care to join me?” I ask of her.

”Genie, please,” she corrects me. ”I’d like that.”

After receiving our orders, Genie and I take a seat in a corner table near the back wall.

”So what brings you to Paris?” I ask after a bite.

”Oh I’ve always loved France,” she answers. ”Me and my late...” her voice trails off for a moment. ”We’d spend a long time apart. When we’d reunite again, it was always France.”

”Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” I tell her sincerely. I’ve never lost a lover like that. I really couldn’t imagine it.

”It’s been a few years now since I lost him.”

”What was his name?” I ask, genuinely interested in this beauty and her story.

”Simon,” she answers. ”Simon Raines,” she says with a smile while obviously holding back tears.

”I’m very sorry for your loss,” I say with sincerity. Admittedly, in the moment, with her emotion nearly getting the better of her, my own starts to get the better of me. I’m a lot of things. One of those, is a deeply emotional very caring person.

”Thank you Thad,” she says warmly. ”It’s been a long time since I’ve talked about him. It felt good to for a minute,” she concludes.

Laying on the table, my phone starts to ring. Looking at it briefly, seeing ‘Alister Henry’ pop up, I send it to voicemail before putting it on ‘silent’.

”Anyone important?” she asks. To which, I only shake my head.

Taking my half eaten croissant, I raise it up in front of me. ”To Simon,” I say to her with a smile of my own.

She closes her eyes a moment and smiles. It’s very likely she’s seeing Simon in her mind for a moment. ”To Simon,” she says, lifting her croissant and slapping it gently against my own.

”Can I ask how he died?” I preface a question with a question, and immediately I regret it. ”No, never mind. That’s none of my business.”

Again, my phone lights up with ‘Alister Henry’ on the its screen. Again, I ignore it.

”No, it’s okay,” she says reassuringly. ”No one knows,” she says with sadness in her voice and on her face.

Truth be told, there’s not a woman… or a man for that matter… that I’ve engaged in personal conversations like this, that I haven’t thought about taking to bed. I do have a reputation to maintain, after all. Genie though, she’s different. While I wouldn’t turn her down, I also wouldn’t preface it by talking about her lost lover. That’s a sort of emotional manipulation that is downright wrong.

”If you ever want to find out,” I begin to say to her as once again, my phone lights up with my grandfathers name. ”I know some very powerful people all around this world. And if I can be of any help, don’t hesitate to call.”

”I really appreciate that,” she says, her sweet, sweet smile returning to her face. ”That man seems really intent on trying to get a hold of you.”

”He can wait.”

”So what about you?” she asks. ”What brought you to Paris?”

”I had an event with the XWF,” I answer her. ”And I’m still here because my plane broke and they’re having a little trouble fixing it.”

A fourth time, my phone lights up.

”Maybe you should take that call, it seems like it might be important.”

”Yeah, maybe I should,” I say with an exasperated sigh. ”Excuse me a moment.”

”Of course.”

Vacating my seat, I rush to the rest room. Making sure it’s empty, I lock the door behind me before calling Alister back.

”Thaddeus,” he answers.

”What the hell do you want man? I’m tryna have lunch with a beautiful woman.” Genie is that, and much more. With a captivating smile and gorgeous eyes, in a different time, I’d be all over that.

”Still in Paris?”

”Yeah, plane is fucked.”

”Have you spoken to that MacKay girl today that you claim to hate?” he asks in that nerve grating tone of voice.

”No. Why?”

”I have reason to suspect she’s been beaten,” he informs me and at once, the color drains from my face. Instinctively, my free hand touches the bulge in my pocket. Not that bulge, the ‘something absurdly expensive’ I bought earlier.

”What the hell are you talking about?” I ask with worry evident in my tone.

”Seems she owes some money to some pretty bad people, Thaddeus,” he informs me. ”You remember what it’s like in this business.”

I do.

It’s why I left it.

It’s difficult to leave such a business, but they never knew me as Thaddeus Duke. They knew me as The Collector. They knew me as Jameson Henry.

”How bad?”

”It’s tough to know for sure,” he admits. ”She’s alive, I can tell you that much.”

”Thanks Alister, I gotta go.” Ending the call, I hurriedly try to reach Lauren. It doesn’t even ring, just goes right to voicemail. ”Fuck,” I mutter to myself. ”Lauren, call me as soon as you can,” I say before ending the call.

Quickly, I call my pilot.

”What’s goin’ on? How long until the plane is ready?” I ask him. To which, he informs me they’re having trouble locating the correct part. ”Commercial it is then.”

Ending the call, I exit the rest room to briefly rejoin Genie.

”Genie, I’m really sorry I have to cut this short,” I begin to tell her.

”Everything okay?”

”Uhhhhh, yeah I think so,” I lie. To her? To myself? Probably a little bit of both. ”A little emergency came up and I need to get back to New York.”

”That’s really unfortunate,” she says sweetly.

Oh you have NO idea.

”But Genie listen,” I say, swinging my jacket over and putting it on. ”I had a really nice time. It was great meeting you and getting’ to know you a little.

“I really enjoyed your company.”

”Thaddeus, that feeling is very much mutual,” she says with that captivating smile of hers.

She reaches her right hand forward to shake mine. Grabbing it with my right, the connection is instantaneous. While I don’t know what she’s thinking or feeling, there’s a definite spark between us. Leaning forward, I lightly give the top of her hand a gentle kiss.

”Perhaps some other time,” I say to her with a smile. She shoots one back and without another word, I’m out of the cafe and in the wind.

I don’t want people mistaking what they’re seeing. What we’ve seen over the course of the last couple months isn’t me trying to put myself in the Hall of Legends. What I’m doing, is giving myself the opportunity to earn it the same way I’ve earned everything else in my storied, yet still young career. Due to the Legacy Rule brought in by the front office, since my father is enshrined for all eternity in the Hall of Legends, it will never… ever… be available to me.

So what if he wasn’t?

What if Sebastian Duke is no longer in the Hall?

He and I, we share similar records.

I’ve earned more championships than he has.

I’ve beaten far more marquee names than he has.

I’ve generated far more interest in me and this company than he has.

Should I not one day be recognized for the things I’ve done in this business? Should I not one day be recognized for the overall good that I have done for the company I love? Should I not one day be recognized for putting my body on the line for the benefit of the fans that pay good money to watch XWF events?

It seems a grave miscarriage of justice to deny me and my fans the right to see me earn that recognition over something so arbitrary as the Legacy Rule. It has taken me longer than I care to admit to reach the level I’m at now as a worldwide megastar and I know that sounds egotistical. Maybe it is, but that doesn’t make it any less true of a statement. It’s taken years to shake his large shadow and it only gets harder when every few months he pops up again just to try and steal the spotlight that rightly belongs to me. Again, I know it sounds egotistical, but I don’t care. I have earned everything I have. I have worked my ass off for years to forge my own path, to carve out my own legacy and he just keeps popping back up to remind everyone he was here first. He just keeps reminding everyone that as good as I am at what I do… I’ll never get to earn what I truly deserve.

This is my attempt at righting that wrong. This is me, giving myself a chance to one day go where I already belong. Maybe the brass will see the error of their ways, maybe they won’t. Considering one of those is my fathers brother, I’ll keep my doubts.

Nevertheless, people will visit the Hall of Legends. They’re travel the corridor just like I did. They’ll see the names and the shrines dedicated to the greats of all time, just like I did. But they’ll stroll upon a broken and empty case. And it’s significant poetry, if you ask me. A broken and empty case dedicated to a facade. A broken and empty case dedicated to a broken and empty man. His name will remain but any reminder of who he was and what he did?

Gone.

Forever.

Over time, Sebastian Duke will continue his downward descent into obscurity where he’s always belonged. The son has outclassed the father in every sense of the word. When you see the name ‘Duke’, when you hear the name ‘Duke’… no one thinks of Sebastian Duke anymore despite my fathers ill fated attempts to remind the masses. Instead, it’s me they think about. And I’ve earned that right.

There’s an argument to be made that maybe it’s because I’m current and he’s the past. The defense is really a simple one. All you have to do is look at the facts. Those facts, I’ve been putting on full display for years.

It’s not that I want to be enshrined as one of the greatest of all time because I think I’m great. I want to take my place among the greatest… because I am one of the greatest. To deny it out of spite, or because it’s the game we play, would be a mistake. The legacy I’ve created truly does speak for itself.

As far as the Xtreme Wrestling Federation is concerned, I’ve accomplished everything I’ve set out to achieve. I’ve won every accolade that means anything and, at least at the moment of this recording, I have very little interest in doing it all over again. It’s what happens when you’ve carved your own path. It’s what happens when you’ve been so good at what you do that even before the ripe old age of 25, you’re just satisfied.

So what does the future hold for me?

I’ve tried my hand working in other companies and I’ve been successful at that too.

Maybe more of that is on the horizon, but make no mistake… the XWF will always be home. Warfare will always be the House That Duke Built. Whatever show I appear on will always be the Thaddeus Duke Show because that’s what it means, in its truest sense, of being a cliched ‘needle mover’.

The final period in the final chapter of the Thaddeus Duke story has yet to be written. Sebastian Duke’s story ends at Fire & Ice.

One final time.

No more comebacks.

No more one-off matches.

No more returns whatsoever.

Buy your tickets now, if you still can. Fire & Ice is the very last you’ll ever see of the King of Darkness.

His reign has just about reached its conclusion.

My reign has just begun.

The Legacy of Sebastian Duke is… was… and always will be a fraud propped up, celebrated, and perpetrated by the media machine of the XWF.

At Fire & Ice, that fraud is exposed for the world to see.

His legacy is my legacy and on pay per view, LIVE from Iceland…

Only one Duke remains for as long as time exists.

Simply…

Thaddeus.

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