##The fire grows hotter
Our names will be screamed aloud
The story will change##

-Part Four-
“STICKS and STONES”

I woke up to the feeling of something prodding me in the stomach and even a few times in the cheek. Something sharp, but not so much as to puncture my clothes or my skin and it was hardly noticeable after I realized how bad my head was killing me.

I opened my eyes and saw it was now early morning. Again, I told you I sleep too much. This wasn’t so much a sleep though, more of a you’re thrown from a moving vehicle and smack your head off the road. Through my blurred vision I saw two silhouettes standing above me with obviously one of them doing the prodding.

“Do you think he’s dead?” I heard someone say. A girl.

“Maybe! If he is, I call his wallet!”

I recognized that voice. It sounded like--

“Oh Charlie… Hey, look! He’s moving!”

I sat up and smacked away the small stick that the girl was using to poke me with.

“He’s feral!” Said Charlie, pushing the girl in front of him.

“He ain’t no feral, Charlie. Look at ‘im! He’s hurt!”

I looked around and found myself on a back road across the river from the city. I could see it less than a quarter of a mile away, I guess I was lucky I gave Oswald the time of day or else I could have easily ended up in the bottom of that river.

“Hey, Mister? You okay?” Said the girl as she kneeled in front of me.

She looked confused at my face as if she might’ve recognized me, too.

“The name’s Dolly. Dolly Waters.”

“Ugh.” I managed to say.

“What are you standing around for Charlie? Help him up!”

The burley guy from the booth yesterday shuffled over, grabbed me by my arm, and forced me to my feet. I wobbled my head around trying to get the rest of my focus back.

“You okay, or what, Mister?” She’s prodded me..

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I finally mumbled out.

“What the hell happened to ya?” She prodded again.

“I, uh, just--” What are words?

I closed my eyes and rubbed my face. I couldn’t put a single thought together. Was I concussed? Was my brain bleeding? I could hear Charlie snickering outside of my darkness. I opened my eyes and saw him smiling and Dolly continuing to look confused at me.

“I saw him strolling up to the tower yesterday. I was gonna warn ya buddy, ya don’t wanna piss around with Theo. He’s kind of a dick.” Charlie mentioned.

“Yeah, sorry if I got you in any trouble.”

“Trouble? Me? PFFFFT! How so?”

“Pryce asked me if you were hanging around and called security to have you removed from the premises.”

“Ha! Little Feather couldn’t track a rainbow to a pot of liquor!” Charlie laughed.

“Charlie, I told you not to be hanging around there anymore. You know how much Theo hates it,” said Dolly with a disappointed tone. “Why do you go there?”

Charlie reached down his pants and pulled out a wad of cash and smiled.

“City-folk are pretty gullible!” He said as he shoved the wad back down and I’m pretty sure he winked at me, but I wasn’t looking his way.

“You look pretty beat up, Mister. Why don’t you head back with us and we’ll patch you up.”

“Head back where?” I mumbled again.

“Our home,” she said cheerfully before Charlie stepped in.

“Hey, how can we trust this guy? I don’t know if Theo dumped his ass out here or not. He could be working for him. We can’t bring anyone like that back with us.”

Dolly peered closely at me, narrowed her eyes, and looked me up and down.

“You working for Theo, Mister?”

“Trevor. You can call me, Trevor.”

“I’m gonna call you Trey,” Charlie interjected.

“But that’s not my name.”

“Sure it is! It’s short for Trevor! What’s the big deal, Trey?”

“You never answered the question, Mister,” interrupted Dolly.

“He might not be working FOR him, maybe he’s working WITH HIM!” Charlie held up an index finger in his found revelation.

“Which is it, Mister? Are you working WITH or FOR Theo?”

“Yeah, spit it out!”

“No, I’m not working for OR with Pryce!” I screamed.

Dolly and Charlie both took a step back and said, “Woah!”

“Chill pill, dude.” Dolly whispered.

“Yeah, until we get back to our neighborhood, it’s best we don’t attract any unwanted attention,” said Charlie.

“I’m sorry for yelling,” I take a step back myself. “ Look, I’ll come with you. Maybe you guys can help me figure out what I can do next.”

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The Patient sits on his knees on the floor scribbling across several sheets of paper… Scratching portraits and long texts… Skipping from one sheet to another… He stops and mumbles some incoherent nothings then angrily tears one of the papers and tosses the shreds of paper into the air. He stands up and hurries across the room to a desk where more papers are scattered. He looks through the pile of them, frantically reading them one by one before tossing them aside. The Patient grabs the pencil from behind his ear and starts scribbling on another sheet of white paper. Within a few minutes he has his picture finished and rushes over to the wall where many other long sheets of texts and portraits hang.


The Patient admires it for a few moments before taking a step back and admiring his wall. He lets out a long, dismissive sigh when he hears the lock to his door unlatch and the door swing open. Two armed orderlies enter the room and guard each side of the door followed by one other one carrying a tray of fruit. The Patient watches the orderly cross the room through the scattered papers on the floor like a bobcat watching a little bunny rabbit. The food is delivered to the table in the center of the room and the orderly turns around for the exit. He stops halfway and turns to the Patient.

You’d better tidy up some in here… You know how the Doctor hates walking into a mess….

The Patient puts his head down and allows the orderly to leave the room unscathed. The two armed ones follow him and shut the door behind them leaving him alone in his room with his scribblings and his fruit, which ends up flung, tray and all, against the door shortly after it is latched.

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I went with Dolly and Charlie back to their end of town, which was actually Old XWF territory. The buildings were far more run down here than they were across the bridge, it was like a slum. The store rooms upstairs in old convenience shops were converted into apartments and those shops were used to advertise and pawn off whatever you could scavenge for whatever someone else could scavenge. Those that lived here truly lived off of themselves and it was very Old West-like, but made of concrete instead of sand.

I followed Dolly and Charlie through the dirty streets until they cut down an alleyway. I pulled my box of cigarettes out of my pocket and noticed I’m dangerously low with only a few left.

“You know where I could get more smokes?”

I chose not to ration one right now and tried lighting one up, but my lighter started failing me. I flicked it and flicked it, but only a spark.

“You gotta be shittin’ me…” I said and let my arms fall to my sides. I looked ever forward and noticed that my companions were gone.

“Hey! Charlie? Dolly? Where’d you go?”

I heard nothing in return and slowly continued down the alley. When I came to an intersection I stopped and looked and listened each way for a sign of either of them, but there was nothing. I had a decision to make now, I could go forward, left, or right… I was about to make the choice on my own and head right before I heard some light, girlish laughter coming from the left. My path was obvious for me, so I turned around and headed that way.

For what appeared to be the middle of the day, I wasn’t sure what time it was, things got awfully dark. The walls felt like they were creeping in closer and closer and, oddly enough, the garbage and debris lying around became less and less. The alley took a quick turn and the walls shortened my arm span little by little as I continued forward. I now have a roof over my head and a very limited, flickering light source above my head. I noticed the pavement at my feet had changed to a filthy, white ceramic floor. I heard the laughter again followed by some indecipherable whispers.

“What the fuck is this?” I muttered.

I could feel my heartbeat in my temples, my hands, my legs, my stomach… And the pain was starting to come back… A cold sweat began to come on; I started to stagger and bounced from one of the walls like I was drunk. I faced another corner and took the turn again, the adventure, again, choosing ever forward. Ahead of me was a long corridor, at the end an old wooden door with a bright glow surrounding the outer edges of it drew me closer. I approached it, feeling it’s own pulse in rhythm with my own in every step I took. When I finally got to the door and reached for the handle and--

“Hey, there you are!”

Dolly grabbed me by the wrist and the entire world around me flashed back to an open alleyway like the one I thought I left. The pain was gone like it was never there and with my other hand, I saw that I was holding a door handle for a rusted old door that hasn’t been opened in a long, long time. I looked back at her and took a couple of steps back to gather my bearings again.

“There’s nothing in there, you know.”

“Yeah, uh, I wasn’t.” I struggled to find the words again.

“Whatever. Follow me… And try to keep up this time!”

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The Doctor stands in front of a TV monitor watching the Patient as he diligently continues his work inside his room..

Doctor…?

A voice from a different nurse enters the room. We’re not inside the Doctor’s office, we’re in an observation area where the Doctor has surveillance access of the Patient.

Yes?

The Doctor about-faces and smiles at her as she approaches him carrying a clipboard.

I have the end of day reports for you.

He smiles and claps his hands together.

Oh, perfect! Please, please!

The Doctor motions for the nurse to read from the clipboard.

Uh… uh.. The Patient has shown an increase in verbal and physical aggression over the past several days. Patient continues to suffer from sadness, anxiety, sleep deprivation, delusions, hallucinations, and self-defecation.

Oh, do we need to hire a nanny to change him now, as well?

The nurse continues to uncomfortably read the report.

The Patient continues to require paper and a utensil to write with. The Patient is content when they are allowed to draw or write. The Patient does not eat and drinks only when necessary. No weight loss has been reported and blood work has remained normal.

That’s still fascinating, is it not? Why is that?

Why is what, Doctor?

What fuels him to continue the way he does?

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I was brought to a place that I could only assume was their own little hideout. It was in the basement of an old library where XWF archives were kept. We entered through a door on the outside, not through the library above or its main entrance. A long stairwell took us down to a steel door where Dolly knocked three times and a little slider opened up like at the bar last night. Two angry, but soft eyes peered through and looked over the three of us. Dolly stretched up on her tippy toes and spoke to the eyes through the hole.

“He’s with me,” she said.

The door opened and I didn’t believe my eyes. In a single room, a little over a dozen people were around; congregating, watching television, playing pool, and studying maps of the town and city in what looks like a small recon area off to the side. It was a pretty laid back environment from what I saw.

“Thanks, Jimmy,” said Dolly to the bearded, long haired doorman as we passed. He says nothing and just gives me a Popeye’d-look.

I followed Dolly over to the little recon area I spoke of and took a seat around a large, circle table. The girl explained to me that the XWF has been broken up into different areas and I needed to be aware of what I was into going to each one. The first area, with the tower and the club, was simply the “XWF District”. That’s where HQ and most of the action went down, and where everyone paid the most attention.

Where I was now was Old XWF Town. It was mostly abandoned but contained the base of operations for two different groups that don’t have a place or just don’t belong within that deep city life. The first group was the kind people that just took me in. They appear to be led by this girl, who couldn’t be twenty years old, and seem short on food, followers, and general resources. West of the city had a dense forest and was where Duke’s castle was built, and south was the docks. Between the docks and Old XWF Town was an old abandoned amusement park called XWF Land.

I explained to Charlie and her who I was and why I was here. I don’t think Charlie was listening anyway, but Dolly was the first one who actually seemed at least a little concerned about the disappearance of her boss and leader of the XWF.

“How long has he been gone?” Dolly asked.

“I’m not sure -- A couple of days, I think.”

“Do you have any suspects?! Who do you think is behind it?!” She asked.

“I’m not sure. I haven’t exactly got anywhere with this investigation quite yet.”

“What are you waiting for?!” She said, throwing her fists on her hips.

“I haven’t exactly had the best of luck since I arrived here. My first lead kind of shot itself in the foot and the second threw me out of a moving car.”

“Yeah.. We should get you looked over, huh?”

Dolly sat me down on a couch and retrieved a small first aid kid and pulled out some bandages. The little medikit seemed limited, as well, I think more about how it’s a good thing I wasn’t all that banged up.

“So who are the others out there you mentioned here in Old XWF Town?” I asked.

She closed up the box after patching me up and placed it on the table in front of us.

“Well, there’s another group that Theo doesn’t really like roaming around the streets all of the time… But they get away with a lot more than we do.” She pauses. “Atara sings at the Scorched Earth and Betsy makes certain ‘arrangements’ for the other girls to…. Make ‘visits’ into the city for certain ‘jobs’... Ya know what I’m----”

“They’re whores!” Charlie yelled from across the room and Dolly smacked her forehead.

“Old XWF Town is owned by Big Money Ozzy… The Bob boss…” She said with her hand still rested on her brow.

“Yeah, we’ve met.” I cracked my neck. “He was the fine fella that threw me from the car last night. Well, his cronies were.”

“Oh! Lucky you! See, he wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”

“I figured as much.”

Her enthusiasm and optimism seemed extended. Dolly continued.

“Betsy hates the fact that her turf is owned by someone else. She’s been working her way into the XWF police and deeper sanctum for a while now to get him out of the picture and take over XWF Old Town for herself.”

“How do all of you fit into the picture?” I asked.

“We don’t. That’s the thing. There’s no place for us here like there used to be and it’s only going to get worse now with Vinnie gone. We’ll do whatever we can to help you get him back, Mister.”

“Is there any kind of conflict between you and Betsy?”

“Not at all! Well, not for a while, anyway. We tend to keep our distance from each other. Except for Charlie….”

“Worst entrepreneurs I’ve ever seen!! They told me my money was no good, so I brought someone else’s and they still denied me services!” Charlie shouted again from across the room.

Dolly sat silent for a moment, half embarrassed from Charlie’s remarks in front of their guest, when she noticed something.

“Charlie? Where’s Jimmy?? And why is the door open?!?!”

Suddenly, there was a loud, deafening *POP*!!

The lights went out with the sound and the room instantly filled with smoke. There was indecipherable shouting over more shouting and I, without knowing my exits, I hit the floor and crawled to a wall. The smoke burned my eyes, but I was still able to find my way by feel and a little bit of sight. I could hear footsteps stomping and more people yelling… Looking back, I saw the folks that were staying here being forced outside one by one by what looked to be cops. Was this some kind of raid? What the hell was going on?

I wasn’t sticking around to find out. Staying low, I moved quickly until I found another door. I opened it and looked back one last time to see these cops setting fire to the furniture and walls of the place. Through the flames, I noticed the last man from the printed photographs had just entered the room and was staring straight at me. He smiled and removed his sunglasses as I turned and went through the doorway. When I slammed the door shut behind me, all of the shouting and screaming from the otherside was zipped out of existence. I found myself standing in a long corridor and it was pitch quiet. It’s like I’ve switched buildings or stepped through to somewhere completely different all together.

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It didn’t take much for me to get what I wanted out of this, did it? Even after all of the belly-aching and mirroring, we weren’t only taken on a trip through the labyrinth, but we also got another glorious puppet-show courtesy of our Universal Champion! Maybe it’s the King in me, but I’ve always loved a good show, you know. In a few ways, I’ve come to find that I can relate to some of the crazy ramblings that you’ve been going on about. The things you’ve hidden and dabbed throughout your journeys and puppet displays. See, I’ve never fought for glory and gold, either. I’ve never fought for recognition or reputation. All of that just came along with it, didn’t it? I’ve fought for something greater than all of that, too, and that, my friends, is the FIGHT itself!

PFFT. Corny, right?

Go ahead and pick that apart all you like, like you’ve done every single other thing I’ve said, we’ll touch on this later through another secret door. I like seeing that fire of your’s once ablaze struggle to stay significant as you’re slowly backed into a corner. I’ll keep blowing on it for ya. I know it’s me and all that low hanging fruit that you’re running around like Pac Man on crack gobbling up. It’s hard to decipher if I’m even throwing any bait around because you literally scoop up every single thing I put out there and puke it back out into some version of what you want it to mean or say. I’ve explained myself already about what I said. About May Day, about War Games, about King Louie’s, and snakes. You can take as many things as you want out of context and make it look as contradicting as you like, but you're just regurgitating words. I love watching you pull out every single weapon you have to battle the one thing you know can finally stop you in your tracks. Is that becoming something too cliche to say? Well, darn me all over again… But that’s the idea isn’t it? It’d be stupid not to pull out every stop with so much at stake. Maybe I could think of a different way to word it without breaking any of my rules? Even the one about not tracking your missteps or calling you out on anything! So, just to be clear, since I said I wasn’t going to do that, it gave you the hall pass? If that’s the case, then keep doing it, I guess. I’ll try not to call you out on your BS from now on because that would be going back on my word.

WAIT A MINUTE!! Did I just call you out on something then tell you to keep doing it again?! Dawk some points off the old score card for that one…

This loopy loop does get old doesn’t it?

But this is what you do. You’re no climber, you just attach to someone climbing and take the ride up. You’re not an attacker. What bounces off of you sticks to me!. Every whisper uttered from my lips isn’t safe from you to tear to shreds. It backs up my point that you need someone there to give you what you need to go on. You need someone to feed you or else you’ll have absolutely nothing to bring to battle. I’ve had to set the ball up on the tee each time so you could swing, bash, crank, bang away in every direction anyway. Keep flaunting that mirror in my direction, but the entire world sees you digging so deep into your bag for anything that can be used against me.

Like your stupid book. I told you I didn’t want it anymore either. I’m chopping off your head, remember? You were going to run around like a chicken and still do the hand thing? So, what I’ve come to find out through all of this is that you throw some pretty weak hits. You just strike the same points over and over and over again until they bruise. You take my points, turn them around, and over exaggerate them. You take your points and if I have anything to say about them throw up a force field and fling everything I say right back. It’s a great strategy, to be honest. Anyone else would be in the fetal position in the corner right now crying away and sucking their thumb. Anyone else would be at a loss of words because the fuel they needed were their own words just spit out right back at them. Some people need that fuel, don’t they? They need to wait for someone to mess up or twist something around to make it look so and beat it to death until everyone's convinced its so amazing! Imagine being so unfocused that you don't see that I'm unfazed by this sticks and stones nonsense.

I now know that ever forward just means whatever direction you’re facing then. Fascinating. I thought there was more to it than that. So it can be forwards, backwards, up, down… Whichever direction we choose.

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