"Nathaniel Idenhaus, to what do I owe this random appearance cause if it's for a doctor's visit, I hate to break it to you but there's only corpses in this morgue. Present company excluded, of course."

My attention was pulled away from my work as soon as I heard the door open. To my "surprise" it wasn't someone bringing in a fresh corpse for me to process, it was Nathaniel Idenhaus. Everyone's favorite former Nazi. I had no idea what the man wanted or why he found it necessary to pay me a visit, at work no less and I didn't care, I just wanted him gone. There was something that irked me about him, regardless of his newfound path of redemption.

Maybe it was the Jew in me, still holding onto a grudge. Perhaps, I wasn't over hating that piece of shit, racist. Even if he changed his ways and wanted to be a better man for his son, that didn't instantly nullify the past. It would take time, before I could even attempt, to revise my thoughts about this man that I loathed. In my eyes, he was still very much the enemy. For the sake of not causing a scene, I played nice though. Even if every fiber of my being wanted to tear him into fucking pieces. I exercised self restraint and maintained control over myself. And all without even taking a single cleansing breath. Ha! Just call me Zane "Zombie Zen Master" Norrison.

"Surgeons don't make house calls, far too messy."

He gave a brief laugh.

"And even if they did... I am no longer a practicing surgeon. Had an unexpected, spur of the moment, career change."

"Is that right?"

"It is indeed, a fact. Came with permanently relocating to Brooklyn."

Hmmm... less than an hour away from where I live, well isn't that peachy keen... now, I'll probably see him even more than I already do. Urge to kill rising.

"What brought on the move to Brooklyn?"

I took off my surgical gloves, stepped away from the cadaver on the autopsy table and fired up a cigarette. It was a desperate attempt to keep calm and for the most part, it worked. It's funny, I don't require oxygen and yet I still smoke, old habits die hard I guess and when you're a zombie, they almost never perish. Save for the day my brain is visited by a bullet. Knock on... wood? Fuck. I'm surrounded by surgical steel.

"Certain events transpired, that made it abundantly obvious, I would no longer be able to continue my career as a surgeon. The move was nothing more than a spur of the moment decision, an alteration of scenery, with the added perk of living closer to my son and I need to work, therefor I went looking for a job. Figured I'd go for something outside of being a surgeon. Something that still called for the use of my specific skill sets and expertise. It would be a shame to let those go to waste."

Vague.

"What's the job?"

Exhaled smoke.

"Chief Medical Examiner of New York City, one of many and currently, I'm working out of the Brooklyn office."

"Damn. Congrats. So what brings you here, to my morgue in Manhattan?"

"I'll get into that but first, let me tell you about a case that I'm working on with Mick Ashcroft."

"Ummm... okaaay."

"At this present time my office is examining the mutilated remains that were found at a gas station. Snappy's Snack Shack. The bodies were ripped apart and strewn all over the place, also a great majority of what was left of them, was nothing more than just bones. The flesh and meat had been devoured. Picked nearly clean off of the bones. There was an overpowering odor that lingered at the scene as well, that of severe decomposition and death. Even though the incident occurred that night, the stench was incredible. Overwhelming. It was almost as if something had been rotting in that shop for months. Mick thinks that's due to the fact that this vicious act was committed by a wendigo."

"That makes sense. Wendigos are emaciated beasts that were once human, cursed to crave the consumption of flesh, after committing an act of cannibalism and often reek of death and decay at an extreme level. Standing close to 15 feet tall, haggard and gaunt, with sunken in glowing eyes, antlers and enormous claws and fangs. These ashen, bags of bones don't look it but they have tremendous strength, plus they're endlessly hungry and they will not let up, till you're dead and food in their belly. That's if you're lucky too, in some cases they might just make you one of them. After that you're fucked, stuck to live as they do... if you can call that living. Every part that once made you... you, is gone for good and death is your sole salvation. Killing a wendigo is no easy task though."

"You certainly know your facts on wendigos."

"I like to keep myself informed."

Pause.

"Here's the problem. Wendigos aren't indigenous from these parts. At least there haven't been any known reported sightings of them."

Sighing, I took a pull from my cigarette and closed my eyes, slowly releasing smoke from my mouth as a deep sense of dread, swept over me.

"Yet I suppose anything is possible."

Another pause, this one lasted longer. Why did Nathaniel come to me, to talk about this case? There had to be something more behind it. He didn't come by to talk shop, out of the blue. No. He needed something from me, but what? Then all at once as I gathered my thoughts and tried to wrap my mind around everything, it came to me. Son of a bitch.

"Why exactly did you come to me with this information?"

Ever ask a question and already know the answer? Redundant, I know and I knew the answer, right then and there and yet, there I was still inquiring.

"I wanted to see if maybe you'd like to help with the case in some capacity."

"Is that so..."

My eyes popped open and I stared directly into Nathaniel's eyes; cold and icy as ever, quickly moving toward him as I tossed the remainder of my cigarette to the side.

"Don't lie to me, you're hunting this thing, aren't you? You want to kill the wendigo and you want my help cause I'm already dead, my flesh is poison to it. It has nothing to do with the case, nothing beyond making sure that it can't hurt anyone, ever again. Mick can't do it alone and you can't get close enough to it, can you? No, the thing's stink messes with your senses and on top of that you're alive. Which puts you at a disadvantage."

"Alright, yes. Your predictions were most accurate. We need your assistance to hunt a wendigo."

"Why couldn't Mick have approached me for help, why did it have to be you?"

The words tumbled out of my mouth, I couldn't stop them, they simply fell out of my face and for a second there was nothing but silence. Then Nathaniel gave a slight nod and it seemed that he understood, far beyond what was stated. With a sharp point my way, he declared.

"That's why!"

His abrupt tone startled me and made him halt his words, before continuing in a much calmer fashion.

"I surmised you have certain issues with me and you have every right to feel the way you do, I have said and done vile, reprehensible things. I also realize that alters nothing but I can't erase the past. All I can do, is try to do things differently and... I don't know. I honestly don't know what I was thinking. It was my idea to have the request for your aid, come from me because I thought if I asked, you'd detect an adjustment in my attitude and the way I perceived things. Maybe recognize a difference and understand that I am trying to amend my ways."

"Why would you asking me for a favor showcase that to me?"

"I should have been aware that would be your reaction? Very well, allow me to elucidate, I figured you would take an exceptional offense to me, based on my history and the fact that you are Jewish. I merely wanted to clear the air, so to speak and possibly show you that in spite of my former controversial outlook..."

"You mean your maniacal master plan, to rule the world. Wage war and kill billions of the population. Your dream of being der Führer."

"Ja... darauf beziehe ich mich..."

Nathaniel stopped himself and took a breath as he seemed to reassess his approach, then started up again, this time regarding me with an expression of sincerity.

"Apologies, I don't mean to make light of the subject but trust me when I say, I do realize the seriousness of the situation. Understand this isn't exactly easy for me, admitting errors is a rather foreign policy, especially since this involves something I had such a strong belief in for as long as I did but that's on me not you, I am doing my best though."

"In regards to what you said. Yes, that is what I am referring to... my misconception that it was my destiny to be... der Führer and rule over all with an iron fist. To proclaim death to the masses that I deemed insufficient waste or vermin and promise a systematic global takeover, in order to bring myself into power. I was wrong about all of it and those injustices are only the mere tip of the iceberg. I am guilty of much more heinous undertakings, actions that no one would ever be mindful or familiar with because of the measures that I took to stay under the radar. Secrets that now must hang as nothing more than skeletons in my closet."

"A cross that I bear alone. For those deeds, I do not believe I am worthy of atonement; however, I still thrive to reform and take on a new stance. This is done for my son's sake, to eliminate the chances that he ever turns out like I did, full of so much hate and to eradicate the evil that in some cases, I may have even been responsible for setting in motion."

"I thought that if I came to you and asked for help, something I would never do in the past... due to your heritage, that you might take note that I am trying to modify my outlook. That I don't want to be the man I once was... no, I strive to be better than that now. Now, I see you as an equal, opposed to a lesser being. I suppose that was a stupid objective, with such a meager act on my part but that was my intention. Nothing more or less, it is as it is... so be it, some scars are too deep to mend, even within the bodies of the dead."

Brief laughter of the bittersweet variety.

"Most commonly within the dead actually, I should know."

Frick-frickty-frickballs! Why did he have to say all that?!?! Sure, it wasn't perfectly worded but he was doing his best, considering... wait, how did he know I was Jewish?

"I appreciate your honesty, keeping in good faith that it will continue, how did you know I was Jewish?"

This query brought on a look of contemplation and I could tell, he was deciding how he would respond or if he should say anything at all. With a slight tilt of his head, he considered me and then spoke in a very matter of fact tone.

"Because I did my research on everyone in the XWF and you were on the list to be exterminated."

Now that was fucking honesty.

"Haha! Wow! Fuck! Okay then! Well, on that note, lets kill ourselves a wendigo!"

---

"Robert "The Omega" Main vs Zane Norrison."

"With a chance to win the X-treme Title, hanging in the balance."

"A title that I used to carry."

"Sure would be nice to wield that again, not gonna happen though."

"Nope."

"Not a chance."



"Not unless I put myself through hell."

"Literal hell."

"Which I am perfectly fine with and fully intend on doing. Without hesitation or even a remote trace of fear."

"What?"

"Did you perchance think I was going on another route there?"

"Tsk... tsk... you know what they say about assuming things..."

"For shame. You all should know me better than that, by now. I'm the guy that's still wrestling, even after a beheading, for fuck's sake. Okay. Being that I'm a zombie, sorta makes that a tad less impressive but c'mon, I could have had my feelings hurt, my heart broken so severely, that I never returned. Choosing to instead, fall into a pit of deep despair, totally inconsolable and forlorn. Wailing to myself... "Oh woe as me, woe as me" whilst eating from a box of Fruit Loops, one loop at a time. Listening to nothing but Promise Ring, for all of eternity. Yeah... I could have done that..."

"If we were in some fucking bizarre, alternate reality, where I'm a zombified turd in the form of a man. Wait. Scratch that. Even a zombified turd wouldn't listen to Promise Ring."

"There's no way, I would have done anything but get back up, and keep going. I might not be on top but I'm resilient, nothing will change that. Least of all words. Love me, hate me, respect me or think I'm nothing, it makes no difference. Opinions don't have weight, unless you put actual legit value, in the individual's words. I'm here because I want to be here, I adore the thrill of combat and I will keep fighting, till I lose the ability altogether; however, since I'm already dead, the chances of that happening are fairly slim."

"So go ahead, come at me with all you got, Robert and do your worst. You better be packing heat when you get in that ring cause I can take far more punishment, than any wrestler on the roster and I will keep getting back up, I won't stop coming. I am unyielding and relentless. Yes, I fully expect you to cause damage upon my body and I do feel pain, with the exception that it fuels me and drives me forward to fight. Nothing is more inspirational than grievous bodily harm."

"The question is... how far will you take it, Robert? Dismemberment? Evisceration? Come on, brutalize me big boy, use your fists as tiny sledgehammers and pound on me, until I'm a bloody mess, I mean it's not like you can beat me to death. So have at it man, go buck wild and get as creative and crazy as you like, really obtain some fun out of it. Cause I know I'm out for some 'real' fun, only I won't shy away from disembowelment or tremendous amounts of mutilation."

"Oh and just a heads up, I'm kind of a biter. Hope that's not a problem for you. Hmmm... I wonder, how long you'll be able to keep fighting, while simultaneously bleeding out. Here's the real question above all else, do I avoid consuming brains before our match, cause that should give the fight some serious kick. Spice things up and increase the unpredictability level, tenfold."

"Takes a couple of days without sustenance before I start teetering on the brink and stuff is truly, dangerous, so I could risk it. I don't know, what do you think Robert, should I roll the dice and take the gamble for our match? Give you an extra special, undead abomination battle, like no one on the roster has ever experienced, to date?"

"What do you say, Robert? Are you feeling, extra frisky cause I am and I know that inner monster within me that usually stays quiet and dormant, wants to play... oh, so bad. I am willing to go as hardcore as you want here. No safe words required. This is an X-treme match, after all and there's nothing more X-treme than a ravenous zombie, in need of cerebellum. Hey, if it helps matters, I'll do my very best to control that urge to crack your skull open... and take myself a taste of that fresh, juicy brain, resting inside."

"Oh no. Awww... man. Fuck. Now I'm hungry. Well, this is as good of a spot to stop as any, see you in the ring, Robert."

1x X-Treme Champ
1x Hart Champion
1x SOTM November 2018