Cut to a scene of a studio in the XWF Enterprises building. There is white shag carpet on the floor, with black electrical cords penetrating it, causing small canyons between the fibers. There is a loveseat, with a black end table with a plant on it, then there is a recliner. Both pieces of furniture are beige in color.

The scene is quiet, but something stands out about it. Sitting in the recliner is the resident backstage interviewer, Steve Sayer. He's a man who's interviewed more men here in XWF than any other journalist. Today he has the scoop every reporter wishes they could have.

Cain.

Cain sat there on the loveseat, leaning back and quite relaxed. Wearing his black dress pants, red dress shirt, and a black blazer, he looks absolutely wicked. His fingers are adorned with silver rings, each with a different gem set into a dragon's maw..

Unlike popular interview segments, Cain is the first to speak.

Cain: First off, Sayer, I'm going to tell you right now. Do not waste my time. If you do, I'll not hesitate to rip your still beating heart out and sodomize you with it in front of these cameras. Secondly, I wouldn't suggest angering me either, because I can think of three hundred different methods of making you suffer. Got it?

Steve Sayer: ...wow.

Wow indeed. Truth be told, Cain and Steve never had really gotten alone. Steve had saw Cain as as a pompous, holier than thou ass. Cain knew this but also felt he was entitled to said attitude. After all, he was one of the first humans in existence. He, in his mind, was God's Chosen. A dark angel, even.

Cain: You really shouldn't be surprised, Steven. I've done worse to better men than you. So save your wows for a normal man.

Steve Sayer: You know what, Cain? I can't understand for the life of me why you don't like me. What do you have against me? I have done nothing to you as far as I'm aware. So what's your problem?

Cain had the power to make men feel inadequate in his precense, simply because of who and what he was. He could kill a man easily and he could get away with murder.

Cain rolled his eyes.

Cain: I'm not the one with the problem. The latest generation of humans, this generation of humans that commit murder in an amateurish fashion. Not only that but it seems to me that you foolish mortals take my artwork and try and duplicate it. Robert Ramirez? Gacey? Ted Bundy? Jeffery Dahmer? Oh my god. These men are feared? They're just a bunch of psychopaths. Defective beings, much like Ghost Tank. God does make mistakes, but when he created me, he had a problem solver in mind.

Those mistakes, Steve? Dim. Peter Gilmour. You. People who by all rights do not have a right to breathe, let along speak my name. Makes me nauseous, honestly. Those fans aren't any better because they cheer these...

Cain spat in the floor.

Cain: ...liars. Fools. I mean, Sebastian Duke says he's an illuminati but we both know that can't be true. Secret society, dick. Peter Gilmour says he has a huge dick, yet he couldn't keep a woman if he tied a bitch up in the basement. Such contrived stories from all these men. But mine, Steve?

Steve Sayer: Let me stop you, right there, Cain...

Cain: Why Steve? So you can verbally suck Vinnie Lane's dick?

Steve Sayer: No. Not at all. Actually, I wanted to get your opinions on your opponent for this Wednesday. That man is none other than Ghost Tank, a former Asylum member and a man who had some very derogatory things to say about you and your family.

Cain could feel it and from the look on his face, you could see it. Truth be told, he was unimpressed. He visibly yawned and just shook his head.

Cain: Is it really fair to say that I am underwhelmed? I want to say that I won't underestimate him, but honestly, I've said that. I feel now that maybe I should have went with my first instinct, because this man has proven to me what a fucking fraud he is. Now, I used to call myself a "monster" too, but the fact is, I realized something.

Dictionary Said:mon·ster
ˈmänstər/Submit
noun
1.
an imaginary creature that is typically large, ugly, and frightening.

Cain: An imaginary fucking creature, Steve. So while Ghost Tank may believe, correctly, I might add, my story I know that he's yet another stupid liar of a man. A mortal. Its human nature, Steve.

I imagine that in some circles, Ghost Tank is frightening. Midgets scare easily. Cain doesn't. Proto humans do not.

Steve Sayer: Of course, Ghost Tank has expressed belief in your story. A story I might add that is quite unbelievable. No one lives forever, that is the belief of most people. Back on subject, why don't you show any belief in his claims.

Cain: Now let me stop you, Steve. I never said I didn't believe Ghost Tank. Yes, maybe he is a phoenix. But the lie here is that he's a monster. Like I said, a fraud. If you've ever noticed, the only thing a Phoenix was notable for was dying, burning, and being reborn. Not murder. At least none that I've heard of. So he has eternal life? Whatever. All the more time I have to make him suffer. And I will make him suffer. Now...something did catch my attention...and I'd like to play that excerpt right now, Steve.

A detail left out from earlier was the big screen TV that loomed over the scene. Cain grinned evilly and snapped his fingers, our screen going to static. The excerpt from the interview played, word for word.

Ghost Tank Said:What do I mean? You're a motherfucker, in the most literal sense. You and your brother fucked your very own mother, whom made more children, that you and Abel married and also fucked. Your bloodline is more full of incest than a stereotypical redneck! I bet one of the records that were omitted from the Bible is probably that your brother was more loved by Eve, as well as God, and because he had a bigger dick than you, and could give Eve the best dicking she's ever had between you and him, your jealousy made you kill him. After all, Adam must have been the biggest pussy in the known world to let Eve fuck her very own children, and let them get married to their sister-daughters.

Steve Sayer: Strong words from Ghost Tank there...

Cain: Strong words from a feeble mind. Do you see what I see, Steve? I see a man who is trying to anger me with these words...hoping...praying that he can throw me off of my game.

Fact is, as usual, this man has failed. I'm not angry. No. I'm not even insulted, because it was common back then to have sex with your family. So that's not an insult, its a fact. He really should try harder, but we both know he's not even giving this his all.

You see, Steve, this is my time. And that's what he needs to be thinking about. Not ways to insult me because he can't beat me.

Steve Sayer: He...can't beat you?

Cain: You heard me, Steve. Since I've returned in full strength, I intend to show everyone the reason why God marked me. It wasn't punishment. Oh no. This mark? This "curse" as you mortals call it? Fuck that. I am God's chosen one. I am gonna thin out this world's population.

No longer will the weak be allowed to live, and make no mistake. Ghost Tank is weak. He will be the first to die by my hands in this reign of terror, Steve. No. Punches. Pulled.

It was then that there was an intense silence shared between the two men. Steve was scared. He could see it in the eyes of the oldest living being in existence. Cain was dead serious. No kidding. He meant every word he said, which was chilling. He knew what Cain was capable of. What he'd done.

Cain stood up. Steve felt his anus clench.

Cain: Relax Steve. Destroying you would prove nothing. You see, I can smell fear. But at the same time, I am a murderer. Not a bully. No, Ghost Tank is the first in a long line of victims in my reign.

Steve Sayer: Your...reign?

Cain: Oh yes, dear Steven. Because I don't care who the Universal Champion is after I beat Ghost Tank. Because honestly...I want my first taste of gold. That taste of gold will be seasoned with blood, Steve.

Count on it.

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