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Doctor Louis D'Ville · (05-20-2015)

"People's character is in their behavior - We're all capable of good and evil. "

â€• Bertie Carvel

Damn do-gooder's . . .

Cold and damp . . .

The Ex-Detective wakes up.

As he opens his eyes, he sees nothing but pitch black and hears nothing but the slight ringing in his ears. He's lying face down on what must be concrete by the feel of it. It's cold and hard, and indeed, feels like concrete. The last thing he remembers is bouncing on his head from a Pike County Plunge delivered by Muddy Waters. He looks around for a few moments and, without an ounce of energy in him to fall into a panic, he drifts back to into a deep sleep.

Quote:From - "Broken Moments and Holes in Time"

Fremont Street, Las Vegas
Apartment of Trevor Dedntik

Trevor- ... So you'll take care of my problem?

Doctor D'Ville- I wouldn't want to have any distractions for you either, would I?

I hope he kills the fucker...

Trevor- You get those fuckers off my back and you got a deal.

Doctor D'Ville- They'll forget you existed, my friend.

Alright. Grab the money, some booze, and see what this sicko wants me to do. I know I'm going to regret this...

The Ex-Detective walks into the bedroom, into the closet, and removes his hidden safe box from inside the wall. As he grabs it, he immediately drops it. It is nearly cherry red and is burning hot. In a panic, he begins throwing all the numbers from his seven-digit code together in the front of the box, burning his hands in fingers doing so. Finally getting it open, flames blast out of the box and burning money scatters throughout the room. Hundreds of dollar bills slowly float to the ground as if a grand finale of fireworks was just set off in his very bedroom. The flames spread to the mattress on the floor and up the walls.

Fuck, FUCK, FUCK! FUCK!! FUCK!!!

The Ex-Detective wakes up.

His first thoughts were to put out the fire, but then remembers he's not in that strange apartment, after all.

Who were those men? Why do I continue seeing this fucked up visions?! What is going on?! Wait a minute.

He remembers the cold and damp feel of the concrete floor against he face.

As he opens his eyes, he's blinded by a beam of light that shot into the room from a small sliding window. He found the strength to at least lift himself to his hands and knees and crawl towards the light. The light disappeared as the sliding window from which it came slammed shut, eliminating what little light he had. That didn't stop him to continue crawling towards the source of that light. Without any obstructions in his way he easily found his way to a heavy metal door. He reached up and found a large handle on the door. He pulled on the handle and used what strength he had to pull himself to his feet. He felt around for a moment and then very carefully opened the door.

After the contract signing took place at the end of Madfare, the Doctor has not been seen. He appeared early in the show and pulled Dead Nick to whatever fate the Doctor had planned for him. Then, of course, later the contract signing for the match with "Loverboy" Vinnie Lane at Bad Medicine. The show ended in controversy, surely like most figured it would, with friends from both sides getting involved.

Then the unexpected happened.

The Loverboy lost consciousness in the middle of the ring and was hospitalized later for head injuries. It would be a straight up miracle if the Loverboy is ready for not one, but two matches at Bad Medicine. One, a Hart Title defense against the Doctor's Prophet, LH Harrison. The other against the Doctor for his Universal Title. A match that has surely been long to come, finally coming together due to one man's constant success and the other's pure dominance. A match that is most definitely a match for the ages.

Good versus Evil at it's finest.

Whether you're a fan of the Good Doctor or not, surely you would recognize this setting... The beautiful arrangement of a crackling fireplace, as it stretches it's light across the long office causing dancing shadows across the floor and the adjacent wall. The air is filled with cigar smoke that floated extremely heavy across the ceiling. The Doctor sits behind the large desk with a scotch in one hand and a large burning cigar pinched in his teeth, which presented us all with his trademark grin.

Hello, my friends.

It is I. Your Universal Champion. Your beloved King of the XWF. Doctor Louis D'Ville. It is time once again, friends, for the Doctor to remove is crown and step away from his throne, once more. This time, however, for an excellent cause. This is not something to just "follow protocol", oh no. This is not just a drawing from a hat. No offense to my last opponent, Mister Mastermind, but the Universal Title is still far from your reach. One day, I'm sure your time will come. But not today. I accepted the fact that you were named as my opponent for my monthly title defense, but I'm sure everyone kind of figured the outcome of that one. Much like the one before. It's never a surprise when I walk away from my sessions like I do. Everyone expects the best out of the Doctor and that is what they get every single time. Whether it's Mastermind or Gator. My best is what I bring to my table, my friends.

Now. As I said before, this is nothing like any of those previous matches before. The Loverboy has finally decided to come forth and challenge the Doctor for the finest prize of them all, the Universal Championship. The higher-ups, most definitely, did a splendid job making this match exactly what it truely is. Mister Loverboy did that as well. As if I did not feel confident before, I most definitely do now.

That's why I adore you so much, Mister Loverboy, much like I do Gator. You two have watched as I one day appeared in the XWF and never failed to impress anyone around me. The best when I entered and the best right now. So tell me, if I have not changed and you have gotten so much better over the past year, how is it that I'm still the best? I may not show much of a change in my performance, my friends, but the Doctor knows how to adapt to the competition around him. As close as you came, Mister Lane, that's as close as you'll ever come. As close as Gator came, that's as close as he'll ever get, ever again, because I've proven that I can take down the one man that holds the only pinfall over me. I adapt, Mister Lane. And as it appears I won't have to adapt to much due to your condition. I have to give you credit though, you held your own against the Asylum, quite well. Well, the Knight got involved, as well, which I must give him credit. He definitely put himself in a very dangerous situation. So, holding your own or not, you still didn't leave the arena the same way you entered. I do hate sicking the dogs on you, but you know how things are these days. If you think that I'm manipulating one of the General Mangers into writing certain cards in the Asylum's favor, you're mistaken. I believe it could possibly be any bad blood that possible emerged from your little group? What was it? The Underground? Reminded me of a reality show on the television watching the group bicker on decisions and leadership among themselves. Hopefully all of that ridiculous team work stuff is behind you, Loverboy. Others will only hold you back, my friend.

Just before your wasted efforts came to a close during the Lethal Lottery Tournament, you won the Stampede for the Hart Title. Isn't that better than messing around with the Trios or Tag Titles? Or the Federweight Title even? You're finally at a prestige enough position in this fine organization that you're recognized as a true threat to some, I'm sure! You defend your title as you should and you win. You're doing fantastic, my friend. I've done the same with the Universal Title. For three months now, Mister Lane, I've defended this title against anyone and everyone that the fine heads at the top have thrown at me. You've managed to pull off some impressive victories in the past that I'll never be able to touch. As you mentioned, MacAlister, Mister Luca, and, a fellow King, Theo Pryce. They're gone and unless they ever come back, I'll never be able to share that accolade with you. Mister Duke, on the other hand, well, we'll perhaps see that one day.

Perhaps.

Regardless, Mister Lover, who you've beaten in the past, Legends of the XWF or not, you must realize that those are pretty irrelevant facts. Look straight in front of you right now.

Hello, my friend.

It is I, the current threat in your life right now. The Doctor. The King. Louis D'Ville.

I'm not an obstacle keeping you from the top, Mister Loverboy. An obstacle is able to be either avoided or conquered. I am not an obstacle. I cannot be conquered. Avoided?

Ha ha.

Perhaps.

But if that was the case, we would have thought of that a long time ago, am I right?

The question you've probably been asking yourself every five seconds since you decided to come after me, is "Am I good enough?"

You mentioned it right from the start. You're a confident fellow, Mister Loverboy. Always have been. You have faith in your abilities, regardless of a past filled with doubts and rejection. You paint a picture for the world to show them you're fine. Deep down you know you're not fine. The glamorous life you live, Mister Lane.... Snuggling up every night you can to a huge pair of breasts that you use a pillows. Wearing your make up and playing the Rockstar of the XWF.

Excuse me.

Megastar, am I correct? You are indeed that, Mister Lane. Mister Hollywood, baby. You're coming into this match and have already presented yourself to the world as being the underdog. Which, don't get me wrong, is definitely obvious! But to go over it and go into slight detail about it just makes you look like an asshole, Mister Lane. And no one likes an asshole. What are you looking for out of all of that 'underdog' talk, Loverboy? Do you want everyone to feel sorry for you coming into this match? Do you want them to think nothing of it when I defeat you and defend my Universal Championship? No matter how epic this match is everyone knows who's the best out here right now and everyone knows how this match is going to end. Our hour of hell and mayhem. What a grand stage, my friend. Perhaps one of the most grand stages of all time!

Bad Medicine. Iron Mayhem. Sixty minutes with the victory going to whomever has the most pinfalls. It's a good stipulation from my stand point. I've only been pinned, hm, one time, so I think my chances of a few good kick outs are high.

I'm REALLY good at kicking out too, Mister Lane. After all, I was am a former undefeated XWF X-Treme Champion, as well.

Yeah, REALLY good at kicking out. So, if anyone is hoping for a high scoring event, you'll most likely be disappointed in the end. Can you count on one hand how many times you've been knocked back, Mister Lane? I hope you still can. Whether you've been on fire or not, my friend, the Doctor has not grown stagnant. He is not stale. Yes, he may be the same old Doc, but there's nothing showing that he is anything less than perfect.

That's right. The same. Old. Doctor.

Now, Gator thought that was a bad thing. As I clarified before, I adapt to my enemies and obstacles. Adapt and overcome, Loverboy. So, being the same old Doctor just means that I'm still the best. I'm still the man. I'm still the King. Yep. Same old Doctor.

As the Ex-Detective pushed on the door, the bright light that just stung his eyes was no longer there. Instead, it was a very dim lit hallway. As he looked behind himself now into the dark room from which he came, the hallway isn't much different in looks. The place reminded him of a dungeon. Concrete walls and floors, hallways lined with doors, rooms that obvious appeared to him as prison cells. How did he get here?

He slowly began to wonder down the hallway and nearly jumped out of his clothes when the large metal door slammed behind him. The sound echoed through the empty halls and nearly shook the entire structure. The lights flickered and swung back and forth from the corroded ceiling. There was nothing much left of it. The conduit and railways were exposed and, quite frankly, it's surprising the lights even worked.

As he walks along, he thinks about trying different rooms to see if they could possibly be a way out. But, he's so freaked out about the situation that he just sticks to the dimly lit hallways.

It's extremely humid, unlike inside the room, the floors and walls are almost damp from it. A bead of sweat falls down across his brow and into his eyes. As he goes to wipe it away he catches a shadow off in the corner of his eye. At least he thought he did.

"Hey!"

The Ex-Detective bellows out. Nearly slipping on the damp floor he begins to jog down the hallway after whatever he might've seen. It could have been just a shadow from the light, it could have been a person. Whoever or whatever it was, wasn't giving the Ex-Detective any time to catch up to find out.

"Wait a minute!"

The jog turns into as much of a run as he can make it. For having no idea how long he's been locked up like that, without food or water, he seemed to have more energy than he anticipated. He wanted the hell out of here, that's most definite.

As he turned a corner he slid about three feet to a stop. In front of him was a tiny person dressed in a pink bunny rabbit suit. The Ex-Detective rubbed his eyes once again, not for the sweat but in disbelief.

Now, things are getting trippy.

The bunny rabbit looks at the Ex-Detective for a minute with a disgusted look on his face, then begins to slowly hop around, as if trying to sell the part that he's a real bunny rabbit. The Ex-Detective continues to scratch his head, still not willing to give in to what he's run into.

"Um? What the fuck are you doing?!"

The Ex-Detective finally put the words together to ask.

Waiting for YOU, fuck face.

"Waiting for me? For what?!"

For THIS!

The bunny rabbit stops hopping comes at the Ex-Detective and kicks him square between the legs. As he drops to his knees in pain, the bunny takes a few steps back and superkicks him straight in the jaw. The Ex-Detective falls back in agony.

"What the---!!"

The bunny rabbit holds out it's right paw as if to flip the Ex-Detective off and begins to hop away from him down the hallway.

"Wait a minute! What the fuck?!"

The Ex-Detective slowly manages to get to his feet and stagger down the hallway just as the bunny rabbit cuts a corner. When the Ex-Detective reaches that same corner and looks down, what seems, a mile of hallway. He watches as the bunny rabbit crawls through a doggy door at the bottom of a much large wooden door at the very end of the hallway. He manages to reach a full sprint and finally reaches the door. He reaches out and turns the handle.

He enters the room and it's nothing like the rest of the building that he's seen. The room has a bright red glow to it and smells like campfire. He sees the bunny walking across the room and behind a desk where the Doctor sits behind.

Did I do good, Doc? I brought him right to ya, like you said.

Very good, my precious Violator. At ease.

The Doctor pulls a dog biscuit from the top drawer of his desk and tosses it to the Violator dressed in the pink bunny rabbit costume. He catches it in his mouth and munches away as he walks past the Ex-Detective and exits the room.

Hello, my friend!

Please, have a seat. We have much to talk about.

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