Threaded Mode | Linear Mode

Andrew Logan · (08-21-2020)

~The picture slowly comes up on a shot of the Logan family house, namely the kitchen. This is one of the places where Andrew Logan's memories seem to focus the most. Memories of his wife, Grace. Memories of the happy times between them. At this time, though, there are no memories taking place. Just Andrew Logan, standing there and looking around the empty room. There are no plates waiting to be washed, dried, and put away. No magnets stuck on the front of the refrigerator with reminders of items that needed to be done. It looks fairly cleaned up, with no emotional ties whatsoever. Andrew slowly leans over, considering the floor for any signs of marks or damage. There are none. Andrew sighs, slowly straightening up.~

Andrew Logan - What happened here? What's the truth?

~Andrew looks around again, as if trying to will himself to see past the nothingness to the hidden items underneath. After a few seconds, there are flashes throughout the room. For a second, we see the blood once again puddled on the ground, where a body once laid. Andrew stares at it, watching it change, looking now more like a soda spill. After a moment, it fades away entirely. Andrew focuses on the table, seeing a piece broken off, a leg missing. A second later, the table is back in one piece, doing its usual job of waiting for the next dine-in meal to be served on it. Andrew slowly lowers his head, seemingly fighting back tears.~

Andrew Logan - WHAT HAPPENED HERE??

~There is no answer, nor did Andrew expect to get one. He turns and walks towards the back door, the exit from this particular kitchen. He opens it wide, showing a blindingly bright light coming from outside. Andrew doesn't hesitate; he immediately heads through the light, disappearing within it.~

~The camera clicks on, showing a blast of static before clearing up. This is obviously a less high-tech version than we're used to seeing in XWF promos, likely a hand-held camera of some sort. The picture is readjusted, and Andrew Logan soon appears in front of it, looking into the lens to make sure everything looks correct. He turns around the view finder so he can see what's being recorded. Satisfied, Logan steps away, back to the desk where the camera is aimed.~

Andrew Logan - So I thought I'd start recording this as my own evidence, in case something ever happens to me. Maybe someone will eventually find the tape. Except it's not called a tape anymore, is it? Well, whatever you call the digital card on this thing. Let's get down to it. So in the past few weeks, I've been having weird flashes of memories that I don't remember. Visions of my late wife, Grace, showing that maybe our marriage wasn't as happy as I remembered it. In search of answers, I talked to an old... family friend, who informed me that Grace is actually... still alive.

~These words still haunt Logan, as he still has trouble saying them aloud. The loss of Grace and his anger towards his brother, Anthony Logan, was all he used to fuel himself for years. But after taking a moment, he continues on, wanting to get this all recorded.~

Andrew Logan - Hearing this, I no longer felt I could trust my own memories. I don't know what happened to jumble them up the way they are. It's still a mystery to me. I asked my friend, Malcolm Price, to look into it for me. To find out the truth of what actually happened to Grace and myself. The trick is, Malcolm disappeared the next day. My uncle says they haven't been able to locate him. He's vanished from the face of the earth. And the truth is, I don't know if he chose to disappear, or someone else had a hand in it. I do know he was at the office when my uncle said he never showed up, so something smells fishy in Detroit.

~There's a noise nearby, and Logan stops for a second. He straightens up, looking towards the door, but after no one comes storming in with machetes or machine guns, he relaxes again, turning towards the laptop he has set up.~

Andrew Logan - Malcolm did leave a gift for me. He was always a guy who loved puzzles. You set him up in an escape room, he's never been happier. So I wasn't too surprised when he left a secret log-in message on his computer, that helped me track down a flash drive with important information on it. I assume it has something to do with why he's disappeared. The problem? Malcolm apparently missed a step, or I wasn't paying close enough attention and mislaid a clue, because the files are encrypted and I don't have the foggiest idea how to get into this.

~Logan gestures at the flash drive, which is currently plugged into the laptop. On the screen, you can see the folder from the flash drive. There are files there, but they all appear to be completely secured. When Logan clicks on one of them, a message pops up, asking a curious question: What's the difference between this computer and Stephen Hawking?~

Andrew Logan - Was this supposed to be obvious? It probably is in Malcolm's circles. I don't know much about Stephen Hawking. I suppose that will be my next step regarding this drive, researching him. But I also have another pressing concern: is Malcolm still alive? Is he on the run? Or is this another zealous overreaction to something that I don't understand?

~Logan thinks quietly, before facing the camera one more time. He gets closer to it, locking eyes with the viewer as if staring at them from beyond the grave. This, he hopes, will never come to pass.~

Andrew Logan - I'm going to find you, Malcolm. I don't have very many friends left at this point. I can't afford to let you pull a Flight 370 on me. You have to be out there somewhere, right?

~After another moment of consideration, Logan reaches out, turning off the camera.~

~The video quality improves greatly as we see Andrew Logan making his way into the offices of his Uncle Arthur Logan. The place always looks like a legitimate piece of business, which, in its own way, it is. But it's also the criminal headquarters of Arthur, a true mastermind when it comes to pulling off shady deals and corrupt happenings. It's not a stretch to think that Arthur could have had something to do with Malcolm's disappearance. Andrew walks through the cubicle farm, stopping for a moment at Malcolm's usual spot. Interestingly, his computer appears to be gone, along with a lot of his stuff.~

Arthur Logan - So, I figured you'd be coming back and nosing around, nephew...

~Andrew turns to see his uncle casually leaning on a cubicle wall, smiling at him. Andrew nods in deference to his uncle, before pointing back inside Malcolm's old spot.~

Andrew Logan - Uncle. It doesn't look like you wasted much time getting rid of Malcolm's belongings.

Arthur Logan - Wish I could take the credit for being so efficient, but it wasn't me, boyo. The police came by with a warrant. Seems that they got a tip that there might have been some wrongdoings going on with Mr. Price. I was as surprised as you are.

Andrew Logan - I'm only surprised you let them take his computer.

Arthur Logan - The lad was a bit of a wild card, Andrew, but you know as well as I did that he kept his computer extremely secured. I know the police won't find anything on it, not for a million years. As for the rest of his junk, well, they could have it. But I do hope he returns soon to reclaim it. I've put out feelers, trying to get any word on what happened, but so far nobody seems to know anything.

~Andrew nods, trying not to show his own suspicions. After all, it's not like his uncle would tell him if he 'disposed' of Malcolm, knowing their relationship.~

Andrew Logan - You think someone in the competition took him out?

Arthur Logan - They'd be bragging about it by now, not openly, but you know how it goes. A word here, a hint there. I've heard nothing. Plus, I don't know if you'd heard this, but apparently Malcolm's old police records? They've apparently been wiped out. All of the information on him that can be found. To me, that says that Malcolm's done this himself, God knows why. You'd think he'd reach out to one of us if he could.

~Arthur says this as if just letting it come off the cuff, but Andrew knows better. His uncle is fishing, and Andrew has no reason to take up the bait.~

Andrew Logan - Have you been to his apartment yet?

Arthur Logan - The authorities have probably already come and go there as well. But if you want to try your own luck, I have no problems with you heading over there. I went over there a few times to feed and water Gyntrigue.

~Despite himself, Andrew almost laughs. Gyntrique is Malcolm's venus flytrap. The name is from... well, Andrew never found out why Malcolm called it that, but he assumed a girl named Gyn was involved. After reliving the memory, Andrew looks over at his uncle, who's offering the spare key. Andrew gladly takes it, as it will save him some time breaking and entering.~

Arthur Logan - I'm worried about the kid, nephew. This just isn't like him.

Andrew Logan - I'll see what I can dig up.

~Andrew nods to his uncle and turns, leaving him behind. Arthur didn't give away anything, and played all the right notes in making himself look innocent. Could it be because he actually had nothing to do with this? Or is he playing a game of strategy right now? Either way, the next move for Andrew is clear: check out the apartment of one Malcolm Price.~

So I've gone from fighting a washed-up legend to battling a wizard. How fitting. Last match, I talked about how I loved myths and legends as a kid. Part of that was also going back to medieval times and reading about King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. There I learned all about Merlin and his magical wars with Morgan La Fay. Most people don't know that La Fay was the apprentice of Merlin before they became adversaries.

But you probably know all this, Wizard, because someone has likely compared you to Merlin at some point. So what would be a less obvious form of discussion about you? The Lord of the Rings? No, no, Gandalf the Gray has definitely been spoken about before. Should I head to Hogwarts and speak about Harry Potter, or Dumbledore, or even Voldemort? What's the point? It's too obvious. How about the Wizard of Oz? That's just laughable, really, although I wonder how fitting it would be, since that wizard actually didn't have any powers.

Of course, I watched on Saturday as the Wizard had his match against Donovon Blackwater. I had heard it was going to be Xtreme Rules, so I was pretty excited to see an amazing contest of strength and skill. What I got was Blackwater apparently being cursed and failing to really participate in the match other than as a fall guy. I would have liked to have seen the drug test for Blackwater afterwards, see if something maybe found its way into his drink? Because it certainly didn't seem natural that a man who called out The Wizard and wanted to fight would be so completely shut down like that.

I will say that what happened next sickened me. I have no connection to Robert Main, but his actions towards Fanny were intolerable. If I hadn't been so far on the other side of the arena at the time, maybe I would have interceded. Or maybe not. I've got my own problems to deal with, as you may know. But the fact of the matter is that right now, Wizard, another man occupies your brain. Robert Man rightfully has your full focus. It's simply bad luck that the powers that be decided that you and I should face off like this, in a Parking Lot Brawl, of all things.

I will say that I haven't quite healed from my Falls Count Anywhere match with Johnny Not-Such-A-Legend. Hopefully I'll be closer to 100 percent when we face off. But I do plan to be 100 percent focused on you, Wizard. You've shown how dangerous you are, becoming the Wrestler of the Month here in the XWF. That's another title I would love to add to my collection. I am a Destiny Decider. A Battle Royal victor. A Legend Killer. And next up? I prove that I'm impervious to hocus pocus. You can cast your 'spells' and watch them fail. I will not be confused, I will not be silenced, and I will not be stopped.

There is no bargain you could make me to stop the wrath that is coming your way. You may be strange, but consider me the force that will send you off the road and into your own personal hell, possibly with broken hands to boot. You see? A modern reference to wizards, just for you.

~Logan unlocks the door, letting himself into Malcolm Price's apartment. It is immediately clear that there have been other visitors. The place is pretty much trashed. Papers are strewn across the floor, drawers are open and dumped out on counters, bags have been emptied. It's basically a pure example of "How To Search An Apartment Room By Room 101". The only question is, did the authorities do this, or Arthur's men? Logan steps around some of the mess, looking around the place, wondering what he hoped to find here. He walks up to Gyntrique, who is still upright in the corner, getting all the sun she could need.~

Andrew Logan - So what do you think, Gyn? Your master tell you anything about where he might be running off too?

~Amazingly enough, the plant... doesn't say shit. Logan never expected it to, but he still laughs at himself for a moment before continuing his look around the apartment. Laying on the floor, he sees a calendar that's been flipped back one month, showing July. Andrew picks it up, checking the information written on there, but it mostly has to do with gaming tournaments and birthdays of co-workers and friends. You would think Malcolm would have a high-tech way of doing this, but then sometimes it's just better to write things down. Andrew notes the last day of July, marked as "Getting Together With Andrew".~

Andrew Logan - Strange. I don't remember anything in particular about that day. Were we supposed to get together, Malcolm, and I just forgot? Or is that a different Andrew? I suppose it doesn't really matter, does it?

~Andrew flips the calendar closed and goes to put it down. But after a second, he raises it back up, looking intently at the cover.~

[Image: 61v18a0gxSL.jpg]

Andrew Logan - Huh. Well, that explains why I don't remember getting together, if it was a year ago. 2019, a year that we all thought was a little rough, having no clue what was in store in 2020.

~Logan steps back, tucking the calendar under one arm. There must be some reason why Malcolm still had a calendar from 2019 in his possession, especially since the Stephen Hawking reference might connect to the riddle that Logan hadn't solved yet. Logan turns and goes to the bedroom next, searching around for any more clues. He opens up one of the nightstand drawers, looking inside. He picks up a box of condoms from inside, studying them.~

Andrew Logan - Unopened. And also apparently from 2019. Poor Malcolm. Never convinced Zelda to come to his castle, I suppose.

~Finding nothing else of note, Logan leaves the bedroom, heading back to the apartment front door. He looks back once more, as if thinking about straightening up a little, but changes his mind.~

Andrew Logan - When you get back, Malcolm, I'll give you a hand with this.

~Logan turns and goes out the door, making sure to lock it before he closes it behind him. The room is silent for a few moments, until the sound of a whirling camera is heard faintly from the ceiling. We fade out.~

I don't suppose you know any good memory spells, do you, Wizard? That might be the one reason I might be willing to spare you at Saturday Night Savage. If you actually had power that could help me to see the true path my life has taken, instead of the jumble I currently see, I would see fit to spare you as much pain as possible. I couldn't just let you walk away, as that works against my current goals, but I wouldn't spend my time trying to smash you through the roof of a Corvette or a Honda Fit. Whatever cars they're going to have sitting in the parking lot we'll be competing in.

All-in-all, Wizard, I'm just not a believer in dark arts. I don't see you as a Willow, saying you're bored now and flaying my skin from my bones. I don't picture you as a Force user, someone like Darth Vader or, dare I say it, even Dark Helmet. If I'm trying to link you up with a famous magician, I have to say, I keep coming back to Harry Dresden. A man with a little bit of skill, but one whose known more for his tricks than his magic.

But maybe you can surprise me, Wizard. Maybe you ARE a Gandalf, or a Merlin, or Glinda the Good Witch. Who knows? I suppose I'll find out what you're bringing to the table next Saturday. Don't forget to make yourself some magical healing powder beforehand. You're going to need it.

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Malcolm Is Missing
Author	Message