The room is dark, the only illumination is the slight glow from the flame crackling in the fireplace. The walls flicker with the light as a mountainous shadow towers across the room. The Chair of Mastermind sits in front of the fire, along with it's owner himself sitting upon it, pondering in deep thought as he has done so many times before.
The door behind him creeks open and soft footsteps close in. After a few moments a gentle hand rests on his shoulder.
You're still awake.
It is the Love of Mastermind, Maria. Her soft voice warms us.
It's late--
I can't sleep, Maria. Please, leave me to my thoughts.
She sighs and removes her hand. The soft footsteps make their way back across the room to the door. She stops for a moment.
Are you sure this is over?
Mastermind says nothing and continues to stare into the burning flame.
M?
His hypnotized gaze breaks and he closes his eyes as he turns to Maria. He looks back at her with dead eyes.
No.
The relationship between Trevor Dedntik and Doctor Louis D'Ville dates back many years. To say Mister Dedntik was a pawn, would be false. He was a friend. A patient. An "anchor".
Doc made a deal a long time ago where he was able to go about our world in any way he wished, freely, provided he had his anchor. The deal would stick, as long as a few certain rules stayed intact. All under the watchful eye of the man in black.
They were simple rules and Doc, for the most part, had no problem following them. One, for example, was he couldn't directly manipulate or change the direction of any one being. Like we said, for the most part. Another was Doc couldn't directly enjoy the pleasures of those present in the paradise provided by the man in black. Again, for the most part. As Doc bent the rules in more ways than one, there was one rule that had no tolerance. One rule that if it was broken, it was game over. If his anchor would expire, die, Doc would be sent back to rot in his office like before. Stuck there, like locked in a prison cell.
The gold watch shimmers like a diamond as it twirls around from the chain under Doc's grasp. The two of them are now miles away from the Mansion of Mastermind, sitting in the bus along a back road in the wilderness of Kiwi-country.
And what is that?
Why, the key to new beginnings, my friend.
Is that... "The Watch of Mastermind?"
Trevor smirks as he says, turning the key and revving the engine to the bus. Doc continues staring, mesmerized by the watch.
It was...
He smiles and tucks the watch away into his inside jacket pocket.
Mistakes were made, my dear Trevor. Missteps were taken. Decisions were made that put us into some dire straits. With the watch we'll have the ability to fix those mistakes. To retake those steps and even rethink previous decisions made that have led us astray.
Trevor looks back with wide eyes.
What kind of mistakes?
The relationship with Mastermind and Doc, however, wasn't as close knit as a lot of his previous patients. Although the Master of Minds was susceptible to Doc's influence, his mind was strong enough to never completely submit to the power. The power of his own was great enough to fend off the haunting whispers the good doctor forced upon him.
Mastermind stood by Doc as a General in his mighty army. He provided his mansion when Doc's compound was overrun and destroyed, as well as helicopters and other vehicles along with his servants... Which some took more advantage of than others. However, there was one single thing and a single thing only that the doctor had his eyes on long before Mastermind's allegiance. The mirror.
He looks eagerly at the doctor.
Trevor, whether you wish to believe this or not, you've carried a very special role in our many adventures.
Psh! Adventures!
Trevor scoffs and Doc looks at him.
Well, what would you call them?
Trevor shakes his head as he throws his hands up.
Oh, I'd call them adventures alright.
The mirror held great power. It's origin was unknown, where and how it was crafted, but it was long in the possession of Mastermind. Doc seen Mastermind use the mirror for mere nonsense, never taking full advantage of it's true power. The doctor knew what it was capable of and planned to do just that.
You never answered my question. What mistakes?
Doc sits back in his seat and bites down on his cigar. He sighs.
You know, I'm not one afraid to admit when I was wrong, Trevor.
Really? Because after being ripped from world to world and eating bullets for whatever fucking cause you have going on, I have yet to receive any type of apology.
Apology? Apology for what? A second, third, even fourth chance?
Trevor looks up to the rear view mirror above him and observes the gaping hole in the side of his head that's apparently not hidden through his reflection. He pokes at it and looks back to Doc.
Maybe?
He had the UNIVERSE in the palm of his hand. The black cloud held heavy reign and was strong like a giant hammer that squashed anyone and anything that opposed. Which is what made it so very important to stay anchored to this world. One way to guarantee that, was to ensure that Mister Dedntik never seen that disgusting white, bright light. Unfortunately, the mishaps and misfortunes seemed to follow him everywhere he and the doctor went. Relying on such scum provided was hardly trustworthy Doc knew this. The mirror was the answer.
I see. Well, Trevor... I apologize then.
Really?
That was less of a question and more of a sarcastic 'Fuck You'.
Absolutely. I apologize for rescuing you from the SEVERAL horrific, inevitable demises that you had lined up for yourself. From the careless drug and alcohol consumption to you tangled up with some shady fellows.
Ooooo. What color was the kettle?
Pardon me?
Lou, how the fuck is this any different from getting knocked off and buried in a cornfield somewhere? Or taking one last blast and falling crooked-eyed back on the couch and drifting off forever with my last moments in complete euphoria?
You're ridiculous.
Hardly! It's better than dying a thousand times. You may not know this dick, but it's not just the gunshots, the stab wounds, and getting run over that hurts. Dying fucking hurts, too.
Doc snickers and looks away.
You think I don't know pain, Trevor?
Looking back the doctor smacks the back of his head, popping out the glass eye from his left eye socket and catching it with his hand.
Hm?
He pops it back in.
With it, the doctor would not necessarily ensure that Trevor would never die, but he'd be able to resurrect him in a way. He would simply exchange Trevor for Trevor through the reflection in the mirror. Like a new man, with a fresh memory, Trevor would awaken reborn with no recollection of his demise.
I have fought relentlessly. I have combated in battles that have been bookmarked in history. I have built my image and molded a legacy like no other.
The engine of the bus chugs as the doctor leaves his seat and begins walking towards the front. Trevor turns, a cigarette hanging from his mouth. He sighs as Doc continues.
We've already been provided with a long, boring history lesson, so I'll spare us of that. Everyone knows what I've accomplished and there isn't a single soul in this FINE federation that can deny my capabilities. I've been called washed-up. I've been called a "has-been". I've been told that my time is over and all that's left is said legacy. Memories. History. The black cloud has drifted away and the skies remain clear of any present danger.
Doc pulls the handle for the door and steps off the bus.
I guess we're hanging out here some more then?
Trevor says to himself, shrugs, and turns the key killing th engine.
How wrong they were. How wrong they ARE. What is it going to take to convince these ignorant minds that I am still the same, STILL, the same dominating force that I was just a few short years ago?
Doc walks along the dirt on the outside of the bus. It's a small pull-off place along the road, just edging a cliff-side where the ocean waves crash against it. High on the mountain top in the far distance like a palace, Doc looks in admiration at the Mansion of Mastermind.
As clever as the doctor thought he was, the eyes of the man in black were not blind to his shenanigans. Doc did manage to make several narrow escapes from several of the mercenaries sent to stop him, but his attempts to retain control of his situation were foiled by someone he least expected. Trevor.
Later this week the High Stakes pay-per-view kicks off and I will, once again, be in a position to take back the reigns that I lost my grip on all that time ago.
The mirror backfired on Doc. After exchanging a thought-dead Trevor for the reflection, he waited inside the realm for the next time Doc would use it, and fight back. Which is exactly what had happened. Trevor emerged from the mirror, smashed it, and put a bullet into his on brain. With no Trevor, no anchor, Doc was pushed back down into the depths and remained there with no means of escaping.
The epic battle royal headlining the event will determine a NEW Number One Contender to the UNIVERSAL Championship. Every, single fellow on the roster, minus the UNIVERSAL Champ, himself, of course, will have the "opportunity" to walk away as such. I do say that VERY loosely, because although the opportunities are there, they are slim.
I have full intentions of winning, my friends, and, if you were paying attention even a little bit to Trax's history lesson, when I put my mind to something I usually accomplish it. Ask your Chris Chaoses. Ask your Gators. Ask your Loverboys. When I want something, I get it. No matter anyone's efforts. No matter how hard they try, it will mean nothing when I enter the ring and throw each and every one of them out and move onto the final match where I will bury whoever the unfortunate soul is to make it that far. When my reign as UNIVERSAL Champion ended at the hands of Mister Loverboy, it was my choice to step away and give you all that fresh breath of air.
Although Doc was betrayed by his long-time patient, the idea of the doctor using him to gain back his free pass wasn't out of the picture. It took several months, but Trevor finally arrived in the "city" where the doc's office resided. After Trevor's arrival was brought to his attention, he made sure that the ex-detective would find his way to the doctor's quarters where he would be manipulated once again to do the doctor's bidding.
It wasn't frustration from losing the belt. It didn't discourage me from competing. It gave you all hope, though, did it not? Ha! False-hope. It takes the caliber of someone like the current half, and soon-to-be EX, owner of the XWF, and not even defeat me personally, EVER, to steal the night. Again, if you were paying attention in Trax's history class, you'd have been reminded of this already. So, with that said, even a former UNIVERSAL Champion in Vinnie Lane KNOWS that night could have easily gone the other way. In a towering, terrifying crash, Lane managed to get the three count on the third competitor in the match, Gator, to become champ. To be honest, it couldn't have happened to a better guy. Mister Loverboy and I go back to the very first time that I walked through the doors. Our battles were as epic as they come, and wrote a history in the XWF story books that are, obviously, still talked about to this day.
Doc's situation was slightly different this time around. He had close ties with a new patient, one a bit more useful, Unknown Soldier. With a union that shocked the world, the two of them became XWF Tag Team Champions after competing in a tournament for the titles. He showed up in Doc's office right around the same time Trevor did, following, what woud have been safe to assume, another methamphetamine overdose. With some careful planning, the doctor was able to figure out a way where Trevor would be able to "piggy-back" his way back into our lives through Soldier.
It wasn't meant to last, however, Soldier has an iron stomach, but even he couldn't keep down the ex-detective for that long. Once Trevor was himself again, he was in more pain that any person could've ever imagined being in. He needed a new body, "a vessel", so to speak. Which involved another one of those rules to be broken.
Enough of you seem to have some pretty high hopes and confidence leading into this event. It's not surprising. Everyone puts on the facade when they're faced with imminent doom. Michael Graves, for example. A man more caught up in a little, innocent girl's gutchies than the tasks that have been at hand. This gentleman has been on both sides of the spectrum with the good doctor. He was my partner in Round One of the Lethal Lottery Tournament, where we most certainly, of course, prevailed. He didn't make it very far without me, then again, I did the same with that pompous moron Donald Trump in my corner, as well. No biggie. The whole point of it, in my humble opinion, was to eventually knock that OTHER pompous moron, Chris Chaos, down a few pegs. Which happened quite a few times recently from losing the UNIVERSAL Title via cash-in then getting dropped on his head by your's truly.
Fast forward ahead a bit where Graves got a taste of what he missed in my corner when the KINGS™ defended the Tag Team Titles against AX3. Needless to say, what everyone expected happened and the KINGS™ walked away still champions.
So, Mister Graves knows what to expect if he happens to win the other battle royal and gets to that final match against me. Whether it's Michael Graves, whether it's the Bearded War Pig. Whether it's Robby Main or Danny Sex. Whether it's the KINGS™ own JESTER, Cadryn Tiberius. Whether it's Chris Chaos after he loses his UNIVERSAL Title match against Thaddeus Duke and champion Jim Caedus. Whether I have to beat Mister F'n Confidence twice in one night.... I'm strolling out of Las Vegas the Number One Contender to the UNIVERSAL Championship.
Doc pulls pocket watch from his pocket and it shimmers in the dying sunlight. Doc continues staring up to the mansion in the distance, smiling his trademark smile while puffing away at a cigar. Trevor is in the background harassing some wildlife.
Let's not get too ahead of ourselves though, hm?
Before the battle royal even happens I have, what Trax thinks, is some kind of epic showdown to take care of. I think he's giving this a little bit more hype than what it really deserves, to be honest. It's not like we've been feuding through the ages and, in reality, he's the one that's had the problem all this time. He's the one that's had something to prove. I've never once thought to myself that I'd never be complete until I beat Trax. Just another digit in the win column to me. Trax, on the other hand, has been insistent on an appointment with the good doctor.
Let's talk about that a little bit.
Now, how am I the bad guy here? There's been more than one occasion as of late that Trax has shoved his business where it had no business. One example would be the previously mentioned Tag Team Title defense against AX3. I can definitely see Trax's point, but why would you rush out to defend a publicly proud pedophile in Michael Graves and asshole like Chris Chaos? I certainly wouldn't. Some evil mother fuckers there and have you heard them talk? This take over and what not... It sounds to ME that they're the tyrants. Theo Pryce has had half of this company in his back pocket for longer than all of you know apparently. Things have been running smoothely, have they not? I've heard of no complaints until it was made public then all of a sudden the KINGS™ are the ones trying to take over. No, no, my friends. We've HAD power. All along.
AX3 is hardly worth a worry of our's, you know. They call it a takeover but all Michael Graves did was recruit a champion and a briefcase holder, which inevitably leads to a UNIVERSAL Title. And SURE, he's recently pinned the Xtreme Champion to gain the title. So, sure, they have a grip on a few things, but it's a loose grip. Jim Caedus, Robby Main, AND Michael Graves both find themselves in some predicaments, so that grip could be broken before the weeks over with. Unlike the stranglehold that I have on the XWF at the moment. I hold a quarter of the Tag Team Titles right now and I have more push around here than the UNIVERSAL Champion, himself. It will all fall into place soon enough, my friends, just be patient.
Trax can run his jaw all he wants about how confident he is about our session. I know he's shaking in his boots. The AX3 rescue wasn't the only occassion that he's stepped out of line, you know. Last Savage he couldn't keep his hands off me. After I discarded Micheal McBride like the piece of garbage that he is, I was attacked. That's right, my friends. Attacked.
The very man that insists he has my number has taken on some "gorilla" tactics to try and just MAYBE get an upper hand on me before our match. I've already got somebody "poofing" in and out around me lately, I don't need another one. It doesn't end there either. Twice he came after me that night. After my victory THEN after the main event! He attacked me from behind AGAIN and kicked me into the production equipment. If he's got something over the good doctor already like he says, couldn't he at least be a bit more honest about it? You don't see me waiting around every corner and in the bathrooms for a vulnerable moment to take him out. I'll do it when it counts. When the ref counts. To three. While he's flat on his back after I slam him there.
Doc throws his cigar to the ground and looks back to Trevor who looks up sensing the doctor's eyes upon him.
What?!
Trevor exclaims.
Doc laughs and shrugs as he opens up the watch and looks down at it watching it tick.
Trax talks like he's on the same level as me. Sure, we're both former UNIVERSAL Champions, sure we've shared our time as Xtreme Champions and briefcase holders, but he's hardly my equal. He said it himself, while I was Xtreme Champion, I held it for a looooooooooooooooooooooooooooong, long time. I never lost the championship, there's a wink, but I did cash-in to become UNIVERSAL Champion. Which I also held for a looooooooooooooooooooooong,long, long time. Very much, UNlike Trax. He's held other title as well that I wasn't applicable for during his time, I was handcuffed to the upper-echelon titles due to rules, so be it. Much like my Tag Team Championship, his time as the Intercontinental Champion and whatever else hardly means a damn thing to me. Trax knows what the TRUE prize is around here and by the way he's been flaring those big nostrils of his, he's on the hunt, as well. Like I said before, I don't mind beating him twice in one night to get what I want...
If there's one thing that I can point out that even Trax, himself, could agree on, it's that the odds are NEVER against the good doctor. Who's the favorite going into this match? Is it Trax? Is it Doc? Puh-leaze. I haven't been an underdog since my third match here and even though it may be one of those FEW times we're counting with one hand, it was within a blonde cunt hair that I didn't walk away Television Champion that night.
Trax HAS MADE a few GREAT points as of late without a doubt. I have been great. Yes. Yes, I have. I AM great. Why, yes. Yes I am. I'm a staple in the company? I'm the fucking binding. I'm the light, the dark, the breath of the XWF. That shitty feeling you have in your stomach right now? That's me. The golf ball you're trying to swallow? Me. The migraine? The shaky knees? That's right. Every single person in the roster has it, because they know I'm here and I'm coming. Trax is done fucking around? I never started fucking around. Trax isn't going to LET me win? I'm not going to let my scotch get warm while I'm out there taking care of business. The entire roster is puckering their assholes waiting for this night in anticipation, all to be a waste when it's all said and done. I'm coming, my friends.
Doc begins walking back to the bus where Trevor stands, who went back to corrupting the exotic wildlife of New Zealand. He looks up to the doc as he's approached.
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