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Sebastian Duke · **03-03-2015, 04:10 PM**

Saturday, February 28, 2015 | 5:49 PM Local Time | Bendlerblock Building | Berlin, Germany

The Bendlerblock Building in Berlin, Germany provided the backdrop for many important moments in Germany's history. These days, it serves as a secondary office building for the Defense Ministry, but in years and decades past, it was the premier building for the ministry. During the Nazi regime in the 30's and 40's numerous plots were hatched here, to kill the Fuhrer and overthrow the Nazi government.

Adolf Hitler had been the intended victim of at least a twenty-seven planned assassination attempts and it was here, in this building, that many of those attempts were planned. It was here in this building, that the most successful plot, Valkyrie, was unleashed. It was here in this building, that Claus von Stauffenberg was arrested along with many others for their roles in the July 1944 plot. It was just outside in the courtyard of this building that von Stauffenberg and his co-conspirators faced their sentences. At the time, the conspirators were regarded as enemies of the state. Over the years though, Germany's feeling about these men began to relax. Today, Claus von Stauffenberg and his co-conspirators are generally regarded as German heroes.

Deep within the bowels of the Bendlerblock Building, in a room with only one light, a repeat of history is unfolding. George von Hildenburg, unaware that he's been discovered as the traitor within the Illuminatus, sits in a comfortable chair against the wall, staring at Thaddeus and Jacob. He's been told he is receiving a private commendation for his efforts in supporting the Illuminatus.

”Is there something we're waiting on?” he asks a bit timidly.

”The General should arrive momentarily, Mr. von Hildenburg. Relax. Take a nap if you like,” the Illuminatus Prince and German Defense Minister responds.

A few moments later, General Benjamin Cornwallis enters the room. He shakes the hands of both Thaddeus and Jacob, then proceeds across the room toward von Hildenburg.

”Now that we're all here,” says the Prince before standing up. ”I am Illuminatus. Destroy me.”

George von Hildenburg's eyes grow wide with fear.

”Does that mean anything to you Mr. von Hildenburg?” asks Thaddeus, standing just a few feet in front of General Cornwallis. Thaddeus reaches over and takes the sidearm from General Cornwallis and points it at George. ”Stand up!” Thaddeus barks.

General Cornwallis looks on in confusion, but respectfully declines to intervene or say anything. George stands up as ordered.

”Come with me, gentlemen,” says the calmed Prince as he leads them out of the room and up a small flight of stairs. Jacob tails the General and von Hildenburg as they ascend. Thaddeus then leads the three outside into the courtyard of the building where its bright with studio lights and television cameras are rolling. Camera men train their cameras on Thaddeus and the group of three other men.

Thaddeus motions for both General Cornwallis and George to take a seat in two metal folding chairs set up in the courtyard. The plaque commemorating the attempt on the life on Hitler is in full view.

”People of Germany,” says the young Prince as he faces the camera. He lifts his left arm up and points at von Hildenburg. ”This man sitting before all of you is the son of your dead President. This, is George von Hildenburg.

“It is George that killed your President.

“That's right. He killed his very own father.

“Consider this, your trial, Mr. von Hildenburg. But not for your assassination of the German leader. Instead, this trial is for your treasonous attempt to usurp the occupying power of the Illuminatus. Such actions can never go unpunished and you do understand that, right George?” Thaddeus asks.

George nods, but says nothing.

”I am Illuminatus. Destroy me.

“Does that ring a bell, George?”

Again, George nods.

”What does it mean?”

George says nothing.

”I demand you! What does that mean!?”

”I-I-I confess, sir,” George finally mutters.

”Then by all means. I'd love to hear your confession.”

”I-I-I contacted th-the Polish. I h-hoped that they'd h-help G-G-Germany. Th-th-they were r-ready to m-m-mobilize their military. W-w-we'd agreed that 'Destroy Me' would be th-the confirmation to commence their m-m-military campaign against the Illuminatus.

“I successfully s-s-severed communication between the Ch-ch-chancellery and the G-g-german military.

“Please, my Prince. General Cornwallis had nothing to do with it.”

”That took guts. To admit what you did.

“General,” he says, turning his attention to Benjamin Cornwallis. ”Have you given my orders to the military?” he asks of the surprisingly calm General.

”I have indeed, sir,” replies the General. ”Our planes are ready to go as soon as you say the word.”

”I'm saying the word now. Make the call,” he commands.

Benjamin Cornwallis enters a text into his cellphone and sends off the orders to launch.

”Thank you General,” says the Prince, accepting the General's nod before continuing. ”Back at headquarters, you assured the Illuminatus that George von Hildenburg could be trusted, did you not?”

”Yes, sir. I did.”

”How does this make you look? The one man we trusted to achieve probably the single most important goal of the coup. He betrays us when you assured us that he could be trusted! How does that make you look!?”

Cornwallis says nothing. The camera men starts waving their cameras around, pointed toward the sky as a loud rumbling can be heard, and only getting louder. Moments later, hundreds upon hundreds of bombers and fighter jets fly overhead.

”My fellow Germans, the new and improved Luftwaffe!” shouts the Prince as his air force heads east. Returning his attention back to Cornwallis and von Hildenburg, ”where were we?

“Oh right. General, this is the part where you offer excuses,” he concludes.

”I offer no excuses. I was as shocked to learn about these transpiring things as you were,” replies the General.

”Your inability to select trustworthy individuals for important causes gives me no choice but to demote you. You are no longer the Commanding General of the Illuminatus' armed forces,” starts the Prince before being interrupted.

”You have my deepest and most sincere apologies, my Prince.”

Thaddeus points the pistol at the Generals leg and fires a round. The General screams out in agony. ”Never interrupt me,” says the Prince. Many in the crowd start to mumble among themselves, shocked at what they've witnessed. ”Does that shock you people?

“Huh?

“Does silencing a subordinate speaking out of turn shock you all?

“What's your reaction to this?” he asks, just prior to firing another round, this time, the bullet lodges itself in Benjamin Cornwallis' head, killing him instantly.

The crowd of media personnel stay in a stunned silence, unwilling and unwanted to move a muscle or say even one word.

Thaddeus now turns his attention back to George who looks on, emotionless. ”This is being broadcast all over the nation, von Hildenburg. Those planes you saw overhead. Do you know where they're headed?” the Prince asks of his only remaining prisoner.

George considers the question and shakes his head, ”No, sir. I do not.”

”At this moment, due to your treasonous behavior, and their attempt at usurping the Illuminatus regime, those planes are headed for Poland.

“Consider it, the official declaration of war.

“The planes will begin dropping bombs within the next couple of hours. The Navy has been dispatched with even more planes. More missiles. And the Army are set for invasion at my command.

“George von Hildenburg, this is all happening because of your treason. Death and destruction are coming to Europe, because you could no longer follow our mission.

“Those deaths that will inevitably come from this military campaign, their blood is on your hands. But your blood... That's all mine!” shouts the Prince as he drives a spring loaded dagger, much like those his father wears from time to time, secured to his wrists, into the neck of George von Hildenburg. Thaddeus then retracts the blade and wipes it on his hands.

The crowd of onlookers continues to stand around, stunned at the events they've just witnessed. They look on, helpless to aid George in his time of suffering. The man collapses from the chair, choking on his own blood. Thaddeus only smiles.

Two Hours Later

Asmodeus sits in his private room in the Chancellery Building watching the news. Ever since Thaddeus declared war on Poland, there has been nothing but breaking news coverage from all of the major European broadcast stations covering the apparent start of military action. Asmodeus sits in his chair, staring at the television and rubbing his chin with his right hand.

”...just a little while ago,” says a female journalist near the Polish capital of Warsaw. ”We can not emphasize enough the severity of the situation. The Polish have activated defense weapons and are in immediate danger, because as we've seen, just an hour or so ago, the Illuminatus Regime in Germany has declared war and have sent their planes to the east.

“It can be said, that war in Europe is certain. Our only hope is that we do not repeat history...” the journalist is cut off by the loud rumble of Illuminatus bombers flying low in the night sky, illuminated by night vision equipment on the news cameras. Tracer fire erupts coming from the ground toward the air and a large explosion is seen before it is heard as bombs and missiles from the Illuminatus bombers and fighter jets start impacting their targets in the Polish capital.

Asmodeus stops rubbing his chin and starts rubbing his forehead as Sebastian Duke enters his room. Asmodeus mutes the television and turns his head toward his son, ”was this your idea?” he asks in manner the suggests that he's stressed rather than angry about it.

”No,” Sebastian replies. ”You made him the Defense Minister. It was his call to do what he did. Besides, you made him the minister and didn't even ask my advice on the matter.”

”What if this fails?” he asks his son.

”I don't think it will. We have enough firepower. There will surely be some losses, but, I think this action is necessary to ensure that no one thinks of us as weak. If we didn't do anything, more coup's would surely be attempted.

“You have to remember, this region is still so sore about World War Two and rightfully so.”

The door opens again and the heir apparent to the throne of the Illuminatus walks in, all smiles as he sees the destruction going on on the television. ”Look at that! We're destroying them! All of Warsaw is ablaze!” he yells excitedly.

”Yes, Thaddeus, Warsaw is burning to the ground. But you do realize that opening up in a military engagement with Poland could endanger us from other enemies. What if France decides they'd like to be in on the action? There's a lot of Catholics in France, Thaddeus. What if they...”

Asmodeus is rudely interrupted by both his son and his grandson bursting out into hearty laughter.

”What's so god damn funny?” he asks.

”France? Are you serious grandfather? I could send one plane into France and they'd have the white flag raised over their capital in under five minutes!” he laughs heavily as he says it.

Asmodeus considers his jovial grandsons words, ”Touche.

“Alright then, what about the British? The Spanish? The Greeks? Any of them? Or even all of them. What if they start to think that taking us out would be better than having a repeat of the war?” he asks of his grandson.

”They won't,” the young Prince says emphatically.

”And how do you know that? What makes you so sure about that?” the Chancellor asks.

”Because we're going to crush Poland in short order. And we have every right to do so. Had Poland attempted to overthrow the crown in England, I'd think that England may act to crush Poland as well,” he explains.

”And also because, according to you, and its something we're putting on display right now for the entire world to see, grandfather,” he pauses before concluding.

Thaddeus gets a look of pure seriousness on his face as he nears his grandfather and stares him dead in the eyes, ”They will cower in fear, grandfather, because I'm the god damned Prince of Death.”

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Would somebody please tell Pest to shut the fuck up? I mean, seriously he's been going on and on all week with his insistence of knowing how my mind works and how I operate. Pest, you know absolutely nothing. You have got to be the stupidest piece of shit to ever walk this Earth.

Part of me wants to stoop to your level of insane stupidity but I find it rather degrading to even think of doing such a thing. I seriously can't even fathom the amount of stupidity in this latest promo. I had no idea that this kind of stupidity, not to mention this much of it spewed from one mouth, was even physically possible.

Pest is a brain dead mother fucker. He lacks any sort of intelligence whatsoever, and to top all of that off, he's been a proven liar from almost the beginning of this week and just a little later, I will show you where his biggest lie is.

Pest would like all of you to think that I called him a carbon copy of D'Ville because I fear both men. I fear no man. I've said it a million times this week yet the stupidity that is Pest will not allow him to see that as truth. I mean, we can hardly refer to Pest as a man, but I shall do so nevertheless. Pest would like to think I called him a carbon copy of Doc and it actually mean something good for him, when in reality what I was saying, and I thought I said it pretty clearly, was that Pest was trying to do nothing more than sound eloquent and intelligent as he imitates the good Doctor D'Ville.

Pest isn't eloquent.

He's not even intelligent.

While he tries so hard to sound like a man that is far superior to him, he fails miserably. I do not fear Pest because there is NOTHING to fear. You are nothing. You'll always be nothing. And just like your tag team partner did a few weeks ago, you will also lose to me and the reason as to why is quite simple. I'm better than you. I'm better than you at everything I have ever done.

Pest says I can not run a country or a military because I'm not intelligent enough to do it, yet I have shown the world that I can and I do run both. Another waste of precious oxygen from the mouth of the stain of existence that is Pest.

Breaking News: There is No Television Champion

Pest would like everyone to know that he beat the Television Champion that does not exist. TONIGHT! On NBC Nightly News with Pest Williams.

Moving on.

Pest I face and I beat whoever is placed in my path. That includes you by the way. Tri Bute? Placed in front of me by management. Eli James? Placed in front of me by management. Pest? Placed in front of me by a LETHAL Lottery drawing. Emphasis on lethal. It will take quite a bit of restraint for me to not kill you, Pest. You are that much of an annoying, lying, piece of shit that I'd take a great deal of pleasure in ending your life. Bit if I did that, I'd not have the pleasure to watch you suffer defeat after defeat.

“Do you know why no one shows you respect? Because you have not earned it.”

Your words, not mine. I'm fairly certain I've already told the world that I don't care whether they respect me or not. Whether or not I've earned respect is subjective to the respector. When it comes to talking about my title reigns Pest reiterates that I never hold them long. Technically true, but he fails to mention his own title reign that lasted what? Two weeks? Three at the most.

I will likely defend the Intercontinental title as little as possible, that's what Pest says. Yet its a week later and I'm defending already. No less, against a man as worthless and lacks the credibility as a title challenger like Pest.

Pest would still like the world to believe that I left the XWF after a humiliating defeat. Yet I'm quite certain I was not humiliated. Defeated, sure. Humiliated, no. Why? Because sometimes, someone just has your number and its inevitable in this business. He had my number that night. It happens to all of us. No matter what pests choose to believe.

I'm the reason Peter Gilmour lost his trios title? Your fucking right I am. I told the world back then, that I fully intended to sabotage the match. I fully intended to do whatever I could to lose that match. That's exactly what I did.

I'm the reason Griffin MacAllister lost his tag team title. I'm not the one that refused to get along with anyone long enough to defend the tag titles. He and I split as a team and he ended up with the tag team titles. Nothing stopped him from choosing a new partner to carry on with. So Pest, check your facts. Griffin MacAlister lost the tag team titles because I wasn't there to carry him anymore.

I have held every major championship, Pest. No matter what you choose to believe. While I'll concede the fact that I did not hold both show titles, one really is equivalent to the other. I'll concede that point to you on a technicality.

I did not hold the crown? You're right, the top championship became the Universal title and the crown faded away to a yearly award. Crown, top championship. Universal, top championship. See how this works? And the Federweight? Seriously? That trash title was re-branded with new names and rules a half dozen times in the last two years. Heavymetal Weight. Ark. E1999 UFO FTW. Federweight. They're all the same title. Equivalent to garbage. Just like you.

Once again, you resort to making up lies. First I was a rapist, and now my father is. And I'm the child?

Alas, we near our conclusion of dispatching Pest as a liar and a fraud.

December 16, 1955.

Does that date ring a bell?

It should.

It's the day that the failed abortion known as Pest was born. He claims to be this Vietnam war veteran, yet the math doesn't quite add up. The peace treaty which included a cease-fire, release of prisoners of war, and troop withdrawals was signed on January 27, 1973.

Pest was yet only 17 years old.

There was only a little over 27,000 troops in the nation at the end of 1972. The earliest you could have been in Vietnam was the spring of 1974 when combat operations were done and over with for over a year.

I know, I know. “The date on my XWF99.com profile is wrong” or “I falsified my identification in order to join the war early” or “Duke, you like raping children, too.” That's how this goes, right?

I'm kind of tired of hearing that I'm too old, or I'm washed up or my time is up, and all that. The truth is Pest, I really am the measuring stick, and if you don't like it, then beat me.

Prove me wrong.

Don't worry.

I'll wait.

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