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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » Bad Medicine 2021
Poll: Will you donate to Mammon?
You do not have permission to vote in this poll.
Hell yeah, take my bloodmoney! (Bye, bye Corey!)
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0 0%
No! I stand with Corey! (Corey gets a reprieve)
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1 100.00%
Total 1 vote(s) 100%
* You voted for this item. [Show Results]

Veritas Part 3
Author Message
Corey Smith Offline
Active in XWF



XWF FanBase:
Some of everyone

(cheered; very rarely plays dirty but isn't lame either; many likable qualities)


#1
11-27-2021, 04:48 PM

RECAP

Corey Smith is getting closer and closer to getting his final revenge on Madison Dyson. Having injected himself with the healing nanites that repaired all the damage to his brain, he finds himself a newly replenished man ready to take on the world. But, is he ready to challenge his own morals to take that final plunge? When the time comes to put Madison down for good, will he? And moreover, will he survive the endeavor? And what of Madison’s former ally Jace? Will he be able to prevent his son Amari from becoming a new monstrous iteration of The Engineer?

And, most importantly, has Thad Duke FINALLY stopped lying?



The din of the competing voices created a disorienting crosshatch of sounds. Corey strained to block it all out, funneling his full attention on the task at hand. Before Whisper could kill him, that is. He lined up the ruination of Madison’s body in his gunsights.

And he fired.

[Image: BetterFirmHoiho-max-1mb.gif]


Amari’s voice came out like a clipped cry as Madison’s tank was riddled with holes. The life saving liquid in the tank started to flow against the new points of egress, causing the glass to splinter around the bullet holes. Inside, Madison was screaming, but the device that carried her voice must have somehow been rendered inert.

Jace tried to hold fast to Amari, attempting to bring the syringe with its mollifying cocktail of meds to bear on his son’s neck. But Amari fought hard, planting the meat of his palm on Jace’s chin and pushing him away. He set in on Corey, but the damage was already playing out before all of them.

Madison’s tank exploded, and the liquid cascaded forth, unchecked by the broken glass. The force of it set Amari to fumbling, and Corey had to brace himself to avoid falling. Madison’s body was buffeted by the flowing liquid, like a windsock at the mercy of a gale. The mask about her mouth was the only thing restraining her for a time, until it snapped and her body flowed free onto the floor. Practically at Corey’s feet.

Amari screamed in a hoarse rage, pushing himself to his feet. But his father was already on him, again trying to drug him into submission. From the hall, Corey could hear the clomping of boots and the frenzied calls to action of Madison’s personal guard.

And then, there was Madison herself. Gazing up at Corey with those milky eyes, the mottled skin of her face twisting and contorting with each wracking gasp for air. Air that couldn’t possibly fill dead lungs. And Corey knew then that she was suffocating.

It would be a release.

His finger tensed on the trigger once more. Two. Two more rounds in the chamber. The guards were drawing nearer. Amari tried desperately to claw past his father to save this broken thing at Corey’s feet.

He saw fear in her face then. She raised one withered hand into the path the bullet would take, as if she could stop it with brittle bone and sallow flesh alone.

Corey leveled the gun at the white expanse of her left eye.

And he fired again.

That was when everything stopped. To Corey’s astonishment the bullet drew to a halt in midair. Madison had stopped moving, but not out of terror. She had literally just stopped moving. Corey hastily looked around him, and found that everything and everyone else was similarly time locked. Jace was embroiled in an eternal struggle with his son. The Blackwater men rushing into the room were a stillborn parade of aggressive tendencies. And yet, Corey found that he could move freely.

…what? He hissed, terror mounting as the surreal nature of what was happening gripped him. His thoughts strayed. Perhaps someone shot me. Perhaps I’m dying, and this is my dying brain’s attempt to make sense of my surroundings before blinking out forever. But if it was death, it was a slow rider taking its dear sweet time.

Corey’s macabre revelry was interrupted then by a deep groan, a formidable sound that seemed to emanate from all around him. It sounded like the steel bones of a massive skyscraper giving way. And then, his blood truly ran cold. He looked towards Jace and Amari, and somehow the scene seemed two dimensional. An artificial flatness in reality, standing in defiance of all physical law. Corey found himself terrified by it. And then it shattered, and a man stood in the break with weaving darkness at his back.

He stepped forward, the shattered remnants of the broken wall of reality bouncing off his suit jacket as he went. Corey could only look on in numb fear as the being approached.

[Image: constantine-walking.gif]


The being, having reached Madison's prostrate form, sat down Indian style in a manner that was none too graceful. He began to study the suspended bullet, and then, raising his hand to it, he flicked it away like a boy flicking a paper football.

Plink! The being spoke playfully as he knocked it away. Then, drawing a ragged sigh, he cracked his neck and settled into position, hunching his back and licking his lips lasciviously.

Yeah, that’s one way it coulda went down.

What are you? Corey blurted, unable to restrain a tremor.

The being wagged a finger at Corey as a cutting smile split his pallid face. Skipping right past the “who”. Bright kid.

Corey bucked as he saw, for a fraction of a second, what looked like a blackened serpent’s tongue pass between the man’s lips. Flicking out at the environs and retreating so fast he started to doubt if he saw it at all almost as soon as the thought occurred to him. You wouldn’t be the first…. Corey stopped suddenly. Aiwass?

Why don't you, uh, why don’t you sit down? The figure gestured at the spot on the other side of Madison. Before he could even realize it he was complying, folding his legs up underneath him. Madison’s body lay between them like a demented coffee table, adding an extra rung of surreality to the experience.

I’m not Aiwass. I tore him in half with my bare hands. He wasn’t gloating. Simply stating a fact. But he spoke with a grimace, almost as though the simple act of speech somehow pained him.

How do I know that’s true?

You don’t. But it’s inconsequential.

Corey stopped to study the man, trying desperately to be still his hammering heart. What are you then?

Your Bible christened me Mammon, so it must be so.

What?!

The man pulled his head back, almost as though he was offended by Corey’s incredulity. You can accept an Aiwass, but you can’t accept me? And again, that blackened viper’s tongue, back and forth like a shot. I need this woman alive. He had changed the subject abruptly, ticking his eyes down towards Madison and then meeting Corey’s gaze again. You can’t have her.

She’s monstrous.

So am I.

What do you WANT?

The mysterious stranger’s mouth pulled into a savage rictus of bared teeth. Money, money, money…. Then, with a savage lunge at Corey, he whispered in his ear. ….yummy, yummy, yummy. Corey gasped in fear, and Mammon reoriented himself. We’re reforming the club, Corey. We’re making new Engineers. And we’re going to have some fun.

In a flash, Corey raised the gun on Mammon and pulled the trigger, drawing on him point blank with a shot that would have shattered his forehead and blown his gray matter out the back of his skull like so much content under pressure. But as Corey squeezed the trigger, the gun started to devolve into its component parts, clattering to the floor harmlessly with the bullet, unfired, still in the chamber. Corey panted and fell back on his haunches, skittering backwards away from the thing.

Please don’t go. I need to talk to you. It’s very important.

HOW ARE YOU HERE? Corey’s face was broken out in flop sweat. And yet, he still tried to make inroads in making sense of this abomination.

Well, that….THAT, is a fascinating story. Again, the painful grimaces as it spoke, again the subtle flick of that blackened tongue. I come from out there.

He points at YOU.

Out where?

Out. THERE.

I don’t understand? Space?

Mammon chuckled. It sounded like an ewe being strangled. How long did you think you could play with the boundaries between time and space without consequences? I really should write the XWF a thank you card for concentrating so much destruction in one place. Betsy Granger. Lux. He paused. Alias. Why, Alias even makes quite the show of it, doesn’t he? Yesssss. Defending his pretty little bauble as he spits in the face of cosmic law.

Are you saying….are you saying WE caused this?

Cause implies foreknowledge. You left the door open by accident The leering smile on his face betrays the perverse enjoyment he seems to be taking out of this. And I know Corey, how shocking this must have been for you. This casual interruption of the tried and true hero’s tale. But you see, I couldn’t let you FUCK THIS UP! His voice rose into a restrained rage, spraying spittle as he placed a harsh cadence on each word.

Corey winced in the face of Mammon’s anger, but rallied. You’re not making sense. Where do you come from? Are you from Hell?

I’m from Jersey City. He chuckled. I’m from everywhere that plays host to the breed of avarice I require.

What does that even mean?

It means I’m here because your friends’ cosmic flounderings made it so. So I intend to make the best of it. Which by your standard means, “ make the worst of it”, I suppose. He shrugged playfully. Then looking at Madison with a start as though he had forgotten all about her. Oh! He passed a hand over her face, and suddenly a black breath mask appeared over her mouth. Almost…screwed the pooch. He cracked his jaw as he spoke.

You're going to turn Amari into an Engineer.

That is the plan. He gestured at Madison. Her as well. Why not two?

Fucks sakes...Corey breathed.

One plus one is even more fun, fun, fun. He wiggled his head playfully with each utterance of the word fun.

I'll stop you.

No you won't. This ends here.

You're going to kill me? He visibly tenses.

No. Mammon said with a touch of wistfulness. That would martyr you, which causes me so much trouble later on. Plus, it implicates us when we'd rather keep a low profile. For the moment anyway. So we're going to make a deal instead. 'Kay? Who "us" was goes unspoken.

Do I have to sign in blood? Corey jabbed, a bit more confidently than he felt.

I mean, if you want to. That hoary old stereotype. But no, your verbal acquiescence suffices. He claps his hands together, gritting his teeth. So, offer number one. And I think it's rather good! You stay away from my pets, and Thad Duke becomes your friend again forevermore.

Corey shook his head incredulously. You can't….

I can, Corey. I CAN. I can make him your friend again. He'll wake up tomorrow and POOF, all the animosity will have melted away. I can make that happen for you.

You're lying.

Why would I utter such a provable lie? I want you out of our affairs for good. The being paused. You can have him back.

Corey's insides lurched at the enormity of it all. To think, it could so simply all be set right again. A wave of the proverbial wand. His mind strayed to the kiss they shared, an intimate moment that, while not a prelude to something more, was an exemplar of how deep the roots of their relationship had once gone. Deep down into the pulsing heart of the very Earth, a deathless and complete beauty that would broach no darkness.

Except it all fell apart.

Corey bit at his bottom lip in consternation, eyes locked on this mysterious figure offering him the world.

Why would you ever say "no"?

Why would I ever say no? But Corey knew damn well why he would say no. Because to win Thad over this way would be a hollow victory and a punitive disregard for the man's free will. But how tempting it was. The greatest sins always are.

No. No, I won't have it.

Corey expects rage, but instead Mammon proffers up a giddy smile. I’m so glad you picked option 2. Because option 2 is the destruction of everyone you love. Mammon frowned. I will turn your little pissant commune in Florida into an abattoir. Christian, butchered. Dolly, butchered. And just because I can and because I think you still harbor a sliver of affection for him, Thad, BUTCHERED. I’ll take little Frankie with me to hell and boil him until his eyeballs melt in his skull and he dies screaming for Thaddy Daddy to save him. He leans in. Are you with me, Corey?

Corey closed his eyes, face trembling as he pictured this promised savagery in his mind’s eye. Yes. He replied reluctantly.

So do we have a deal? Henceforth you don’t interfere with us?

He breathed a weary sigh. Yeah.

IIIIIIII CAN’T HEAR YOU!

YES! Yes, we have a deal!

Oh good. Then we can return to our regularly scheduled broadcast.

NOW


[Image: fbi_academy.jpg]


The shot is tight on Corey as he kicks it off.

Last stop. All aboard. He smiles.

The shot pans back to reveal the interior of one of many offices at FBI Headquarters. Corey is sitting at a table with a suited man. A laptop is also open on the table.

Here I am at Quantico, Virginia, vaunted home of America’s agency of super sleuths, the CIA!

Actually, we’re the FBI.

See! These guys are SOOOO on point! Just kidding Special Agent Kilmeade. Corey shakes the agent’s hand. So you might be asking yourselves, “Corey, what are you doing hanging out with the Feds when you have a big time match to prepare for?” Answer: I’m using their bitchin’ training facilities all the while tearing Thad Duke a whole ass new one YET AGAIN. Now, as you guys might have noticed, Thad Duke took FOREVER to get to his point in his last promo. See, that right there is a sign somebody doesn’t have much to say. Puffing up his piece with hollow self congratulatory platitude before working his way into an astute dissection of about two seconds worth of video clip that he says completely demolishes my claim that I was happy about him winning the Universal Championship. Nevermind that I never, not once, voiced my displeasure with him being Universal Champion. Never, not once, did I CHALLENGE him for that championship he said I had such a hard on for. No, just that I was caught on camera not jumping for joy and wetting myself to the tune of Thad’s theme music as he held that belt aloft.

We’re really using taxpayer funded resources on this, aren’t we? The agent inquires skeptically.

We sure are! So here I am with an actual expert video analyst to review the footage in question and see if Thad’s claim holds water. Agent Kilmeade, if you will?

The agent, looking a little less than thrilled, turns to the laptop, which is already keyed up to show the following selection:

Quote:Thaddeus is awarded the XWF Universal Championship as he drops to both knees clutching the title to his chest while out on the floor a dejected Chris Page, Witness and Corey Smith are at ringside. Fireworks start to explode above the ring in Tombstone Arizona lighting the sky up as the crowd roars with approval.

The agent meticulously slows down the two seconds worth of footage down to the microsecond, stopping to zoom in on the faces of the three men in question.

So, in your expert opinion, what does it look like is going on there?

Well, in my expert opinion, it looks like this Chris Page guy looks pretty unhappy, while that weirdo in the mask and you are just kind of sitting there.

Huh. So you would say it looks like a “dejected Chris Page…AND Corey Smith and Culty Fuzz?”

“Culty Fuzz…?”

Just roll with it. So it doesn't look like we're all dejected?

I mean, yeah, your read on it is correct. And, considering the one guy is wearing a mask it wouldn’t even make sense to say he looks dejected.

HUH. Corey smirks. Well, I guess it all boils down to your read on the situation. Corey winks at the camera. Thank you for your expert analysis.

Yeah, sure. But all you really had to do was watch the tape. He shrugs. Anyway, I got some real work to do.

Oh sure, sure! Can I use your office?

No.

An awkward pause ensues before the shot abruptly transitions to Corey in Quantico’s elite training facility!

Aaaaand, we’re back. So! About that tape that Thad Duke desperately tried to STREEEEETCH into a searing indictment of yours truly. Turns out it’s just another play on words, or in this case, images. Another twisting of the truth. Because that is what Thad Duke has been doing this ENTIRE time.

And fuck me I guess for not looking like I’m in a state of ejaculatory ecstacy in a two second clip after I just got bumped out of the ring on the back of my injury prone head. Yeah, my bell was pretty rung after that shot. It may have even been one of the precipitators of my most recent decline. Who knows. But the bottom line is this. Thad Duke tried to expand a blink and you’ll miss it clip of footage into a whole ass condemnation of me. Because that’s ALL he has to work with. I showed literally no other indications that I was upset with him being the Universal champ. Not a one. But all it takes to hang me on a cross in Thad’s eyes is a blip of me with a pained neutral expression after landing on my skull.

Ridiculous.

But so, so indicative of what Thad’s tried to pull this entire time. Thad, do you know why, by your own admission, most people would buy what I was saying at face value? Because it’s the truth, you ass. And I’m sick and tired of your relentless reconfiguration of the last year of our relationship so you can try to paint me as the villain. I’m sick of your psychic deductions into my exact thought processes like you’re some discount Kreskin motherfucker. And I’m sick, sick, SICK of you twisting around the last year’s worth of love I’ve shown you so you can try to score some sick facade of moral authority.

So I did what you’re not supposed to do.

I stopped watching your promo.

Cut that shit off whole hog. Because redefining the minutiae of our relationship is precisely what you want. You want us all getting stuck up in the nooks and crannies, like that video clip, because it distracts from the big picture. And because I’m a big picture guy, that’s precisely what I’m going to end this on. A recounting of the objective truth of both of our actions so the people can decide for themselves who is in the wrong here.

This started with you winning the Universal Championship. After that match, I took credit for helping you win. Which is ACCURATE. But, by my own admission, maybe a little too much. Maybe I should have kept that to myself. Maybe I should have realized you weren’t secure enough to handle that. So that’s MY fault. I take accountability for that.

Next comes Continuum. I didn’t trust Doc as far as I could toss his Satanic ass, and while I disagreed with your relationship with him, I never once saw it as a reason to discontinue our friendship. In fact, I hung in there with Continuum because I was afraid you were getting played. Maybe I was right. Maybe I was wrong. But my intentions were always noble. Oh, and you gave me a Tag Team title and then later tried to claim I was an asshole for accepting it. ‘Natch.

All the while, I cultivated a friendly rapport with Alias. Not to spite you, but because I thought maybe he was someone who needed help. Turns out, the guy is effectively superhuman and needs approximately zero percent help from me, but hey, again I was trying to do what was right. Unfortunately, Alias also had a big hate on for you. A hate which, at the time, I considered neither logical nor fair and attributed it to a confused state of mind. Also important to note, despite his stated hatred of you, Alias had ample opportunity to get at you and make due on that hatred. How many times were you at the same show together? Shit, once more with feeling, HE SHARED A RING WITH YOU AT WAR GAMES! But never once did any more harm come to you than what could naturally be expected to come of a match at War Games.

Also important to note, and this was something Alias himself pointed out ages ago, Alias never asked me to stop being your friend. The Doc on the other hand? All the fucking time. All the time he was telling you to dump me. Who was manipulating who? Looks like Doc won in the end. Good job, Thad.

Anyway, things continue in that vein until War Games. You signed up to be a captain. I did the same. And, I assume, we were both trying to draft the best team possible. Alias ended up on my team because he was the top guy in the XWF bar none. In fact, it would have been downright idiotic for me to NOT pick this nigh superhuman freight train of a man. Me picking Alias was never a refutation of our friendship, it was just objectively good drafting. And if you hadn’t been a captain, you know who I would have drafted first? You. Because at that point you were the one soul in the XWF that I knew I could trust above all others.


Corey sighs and hangs his head.

So what do we think so far folks?

He chuckles mirthlessly and then continues.

Back to reality. So, as we all know, you decided to air out our dirty laundry in your closing War Games promo. Instead of coming to me and hashing it out behind closed doors, you just had to sing it to the rooftops that you’re an aggrieved party and you’re just not gonna take it anymore! You turned the ruination of our friendship into just another wrestling storyline. Thanks for that.

Sooo, yadda yadda, Corey’s team wins War Games, etc….etc….

Now, naturally, I’m pissed. My best friend just metaphorically popped a bullet into my skull. So I decide I want to hash this out in a match. So I go to management and ask for one. And before they can even render an answer, Thad Duke tells me and the world, “nuh uh.” And pick your reason! “I’m not doing this on free TV”.” “If you had just asked me directly instead of going to management I would have considered it.” I mean, fucking PICK ONE THAD. But yeah, at any rate, he decided he wanted nothing to do with me back then. Probably because he couldn’t have borne such an ego crushing loss after he just lost to my team at War Games. Yeah, he had to get some wins back under his belt to rebrand the ol’ self esteem. I get it.

And, of course, we come to our finale. Where, instead of giving me a match and doing the honorable thing, he ambushes me, kicks me in the head (the area that is the MOST bad touch for me), and causes me to lose the XTreme championship. And I repay that in kind by cashing in on him at Relentless, feeding him the same bad medicine (pun intended) he fed me.

Oh, and bonus round! Thad follows all that by joining up with noted scum sucker, B.O.B. founder, and backstabber of Robert Main, Chronic Chris Page. Wow, wow, WOW. This shit, out of all this, might just speak for itself the best.

So there we have it, folks. The OBJECTIVE chain of events. And I openly admit, I made some missteps. But even in doing so, I did my damndest to maintain a modicum of integrity in the face of the bitterest emotional loss I’ve experienced since I lost Lux.
Corey tamps down on a quiver in his voice. He takes a moment to collect himself before starting anew. But I’m only human. I could only take so much. So, Thad, and the people who support Thad, I want you all to take a good long, hard look at this chain of events. Without the spin. Without the minutia. And I want you to ask yourselves, who here displayed the preponderance of integrity? Who here tried to do things the right way?

I think the answer’s pretty fucking obvious. But hey, you don’t even have to ask me. You can ask Frankie instead.

Frankie. The boy who still believes in me to the point that he wants me to be his Godfather. Thad, are you gonna tell me your own son is mistaken?
Corey’s features warp into a semblance of incredulous disgust. How have you managed to square it away in that thick skull that I am both the devil made flesh AND somebody your son loves and respects? Cognitive dissonance, much? Jesus I wouldn’t want to be your head right now.

Frankie, it would be my honor to be your Godfather.
Corey says this solemnly. But even more than that, I’d like to give you your Dad back. Thad…hasn’t been Thad. And I don’t know if it’s just what he says is bothering him, or if there’s something more to it.

Thad, this match is going to happen because at this point, it has to. We need to work through this bad blood between us. We need a release valve for all this anger. And while I have meant everything I’ve said here tonight, I acknowledge how wholly stupid this has all been.

So here we come to the crux of it, where each other’s character will really be born out. Thad, after our match, are you finally willing to have that conversation? No more talking over each other in promos. No more attacks. Just one more match…and we come to Jesus. And you know what? I don’t even want you to do it for me. I want you to do it for Frankie. We owe it to him to get our shit together. And I think, at the very least, we can agree on that.

I’ve….sacrificed a lot to get to this point. To get well again. I’d hate to sacrifice anything more.

Corey continues to gaze into the camera’s all seeing eye for a moment longer, before it fades to black.

THEN


Jace slams against the wall, taken up by his own momentum, as they plunge up the stairs. Corey is just behind, keeping pace. What the fuck happened back there?! Jace pants as he keeps pushing himself forward.

I’ll explain as we’re leaving. Corey grabs hold of the bannister to steady his ascent. Is your guy gonna be there?!

Jace bursts through the door at the top of the stairs, out onto a flattened stretch of roof with a helicopter, blades whirling, ready for takeoff. Corey pumps a fist in the air. Yes!

The tamping of boots is not far behind, and Corey slams the metal door shut behind him, looking for anything to brace it shut. Shit!

Just get in! Jace gestures frantically for the helicopter. Corey reluctantly backs away from the door and heads for their escape. Jace is in first, and he’s already bringing a pistol to bear on the door as Corey slides in right after him.

What are we lookin’ at Jace? The pilot barks out.

Just take off! Go, go, go!

The pilot curses audibly, even above the din, and the helicopter starts to lurch into the air. Just then, the door explodes open and five armed Blackwater troops spill out onto the roof. It takes them a moment to realize what’s going on, and when they do, they take aim and open fire.

Jesus!

Bullets land against the hull of the chopper with loud echoing thuds. Corey rolls into a ball, trying to give up as little surface area as possible. But he hears another staccato salvo of machine gun fire, this time with an accompanying crack of glass. The pilot is still cursing, and he banks hard left before either of them have a chance to close the door. Corey looks up as he starts to slide out of the chopper, bracing himself just in time. He gasps in terror at the growing distance between themselves and the ground. And that’s when he spies Jace, just barely clutching onto the edge of the door, body flying freely in the night air.

Fuck! Corey hollers, and he instantly reaches out towards Jace with one hand while taking hold of the foundation of one of the seats. Grab on! Jace, wide eyed and terrified, reaches over with his free hand, taking hold of Corey’s. Hold on! I need to get a better grip so I can pull you….

And then Mammon was sitting next to him, cross legged with a playful smile on his face.

No, not now! Corey begged off, looking back at the hand he’s clutching the bottom of the seat with as he tries to readjust his grip without surrendering to the calamitous fall himself.

Corey this just won’t do. It wont do at all.

What do you want?! We already made a deal!

And I’m adding another clause. He points at Jace, at their interlocked hands. Drop him.

Jace, recognition dawning on his features, calls out to Mammon. You son of a bitch!

I’m not dropping him! Corey plants a foot against the hull just to the left of the open door.

Yes…you….will! Mammon reared up, completely unaffected by the momentum of the chopper or the buffeting blasts of wind.

Corey became aware of the pilot calling out to them, saying something, but it's lost. I can’t. I can’t!

Then poor little Frankie’s eyeballs burn in his skull because you couldn’t sacrifice a drug dealer!

Corey, don’t let me fall! Don’t let me fall! Jace pleaded as his grip white knuckled even more.

He’s dying anyway, Corey. He can’t have much time.

Shut up! Shut UP! Corey shut his eyes, drying desperately to drown out the complete sensory overload of the moment so he could just THINK. Christian’s words returned to him again. A good man. A good man.

A good man.

And Corey lets go.

Jace’s betrayed screams are soon cut out by the whirring of the helicopter’s blades.

Christ, was that Jace?! Did we lose him?! The pilot whipped about in his seat, drenched in fear.

Corey opened his eyes. Mammon was gone. Jace was gone.

Close the damn door!

Corey steadied himself, and then, getting his knees up under him, he crawls to the door, takes hold of the latch and pushes all of his weight into it. Finally, he’s able to seal the cabin off.

Now talk to me kid! Did Jace….?

He was shot. He got hit. I couldn’t do anything for him.

Damn it! God fucking….!

Corey slumped to his side, waves of revulsion wracking his body. He closed his eyes again, and wondered what kind of man he was.

~~~~~~~~~~


Down below, a boy sees his adoptive father fall to his death. Amari’s breath forms icy shadows in the air as he drops to his knees in shock. He barely heard his father’s screams as he fell. So Amari added his own. His ragged vocal chords elicit a heart wrenching, guttural howl. He sinks down onto his forearms, roof gravel biting his flesh, as he shrieks miserably into the indifferent concrete. But, there was one notion that stood out above all. Only one true conclusion to be had.

Corey Smith must die.

TWO DAYS LATER


Corey is instantly swarmed by a tide of humanity. His people. The people he saved. The people who saved him. The children were about his waist and knees. Older friends clapping him on the shoulder or going in for hugs. The prodigal son was home. He was well. And Corey dug deep to reciprocate their joy, returning hugs, smiling and laughing.

Dolly and Christian stood off to the side, simply watching at first. Dolly frowned.

Something’s wrong.

Yeah.

Christian wades into the masses, pleasantly begging them off, offering up exhortations about Corey’s need for rest. With some reluctance, the people soon begin to disperse. Corey kisses Christian on the cheek. Dolly makes her way over on her crutches. Corey whispers something to Christian, and then he hastily walks into the house and doesn’t stop until he reaches the room he shares with Christian. Dolly nods in Christian’s direction. Christian nods back and follows Corey into the house, up the stairs, and into their room. As Christian enters, Corey is simply standing in the midst of things, eyes slowly filling up with tears.

It didn’t work…?

No….it’s….yes….I….

Christian swooped in, catching Corey as he is afflicted with full body sobs that almost send him to the floor. Holding on tight, Christian brought his lips up to the flesh just below Corey’s ear.

It’s okay. It’s okay.

But all Corey could hear were Jace’s screams rebounding inside his head. That and the resolute fact that his well being had been paid for in blood.

NOW


Corey worked the bag furiously, lashing out with rapid fire punches and kicks. His expression set into a grim determination, so focused was he that Christian, watching from afar, intuitively knew. Because he had experienced it before too. Because for all of Corey's recent smiles and jovialty, a film lurked just beneath the surface. A fine sheen of ache that, in the quiet moments, bled through the surface.

This wasn’t just a particularly intense workout. No.

This was a man working through his ghosts. His truth.

His Veritas.













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Hello, gentle readers. It is I, Mammon. And when I say "readers", I mean readers. I see you out there!

So, I hope you all didn't get too bent out of shape with my disruption of Corey's narrative. I didn't think it hurt the overall pathos between Thad and Corey. If anything, I think it added a bit of spice, eh?!

And Thad....love your work! Whoever does your dialogue...? Truly inspiring! I mean, not Doc D'Ville inspiring, but inspriring nonetheless.

And you know, I think Thad's motivations throughout this entire arc have made perfect sense! It is, as the French say, Mieux vaut prévenir que guérir! That is, it is better to prevent than to heal. And what Thad Duke did was prevent Corey from eventually making his treachery ever more clear! Isn't that right, Thad? I'm quite sure it was coming. At some point. Most likely.

But! As striking as the interplay between ThadxCorey has been, do any of the rest of you get the sense it's ringing a bit hollow at this point? We all know these two saps are going to hug it out eventually, right? Right?! Well, I'm giving you all the option to nip it in the bud! You see, I've worked my magic fingers and...oh, look! There's a poll there! Go take a look!

.....


Did you look? A little confused, are you? Well don't be, silly! All I'm asking for is a simple donation....

///:bloodmoney:///

....to the "Make Corey Smith Go Away" fund. Think of it as a retirement pool if it helps! But we need your support if we are going to make this e-fe....erm....PROMOTION the most stimulating experience it can be for all involved. Just toss a coin to your witcher! That's still a popular saying, right?

I'll be seeing you. Maybe in person! Accessing the dark web is so much easier from the inside....








[Image: CoreySig6A.png?width=270&height=406]
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