His throat burns… His lungs deprived of air…

Semi-Dried flecks of blood ooze down his the tips of his writhing fingers…

He scrawls like a madman on the walls of an asylum.

Both Prisoner and Architect.

For truly, if Mark Flynn is trapped…

It is in a snare of his own design.

Eleven years of backstabbing. Of self-serving aggrandizing. Of slitting the throats of friend, foe, and unaffiliated alike.

Clawing his way across a wretched and unkind Earth.

…And now? Now?!?

He grows a conscious.

…Rejection tempts Flynn. Like a life-preserving organ transplant, every fiber of his being moves to resist the influence of this alien notion.

Who cares about GOOD? It doesn’t exist.

You’re alive. You’re THRIVING.

Throw it away. Leave the dead behind.

Keep climbing.

…

”I can fix this.” Flynn mutters, casting the voices aside... His hands grip tighter… Clinging to his nascent, unlikely desire to be good… The last shred of a soul he thought he’d lost an eternity ago.

“I can fix this.”

***

Ned bursts through… Flynn’s ‘portal’.

“Okay, Flynn. I’m here.” Ned scratches his head, looking around. “Now, what do we d-?”

“NED!” Flynn calls out, wrenching something down-to-the-ground in a side-headlock!

Ned double-takes, before rushing to Flynn’s side.

“...what are you DOING?!?”

Flynn spins… Inside his headlock, he’s wrapped his arm around the throat… of a massive three-headed dog!

“ASSERTING PHYSICAL DOMINANCE BEFORE I DISPLAY AFFECTION!!!”

…

“What?”

“NED, I DON’T HAVE TIME TO EXPLAIN EVERY LESSON FROM CESAR MILLAN’S MASTER CLASS! JUST GRAB HIS TAIL!”

…Ned curiously side-steps around the back of Flynn and the… ‘creature’? And grabs its… tail.

IMMEDIATELY, the thing seizes! Its back straightens! Its ears perk!

…

Flynn takes two fingers and scratches the beastie behind its ears…

Its right rear leg begins kicking gently…

Flynn stops!

…

…The animal presses its head into Flynn’s hand, demanding more scritches!

“HA! I have tamed it!”

…Ned coughs, unimpressed

“Great… But, also… what?”

Flynn digs his foot into the creature’s fur, before mounting its back.

“I HAVE TAMED CERBERUS! THE GUARD DOG OF THE UNDERWORLD ITSELF!”

…

Ned sniffs.

“...So. To clarify, your ‘portal’... doesn’t take us to Death’s Door?”

…

“What?”

“The… uh… Denny’s napkin you wrote the specifications on. The one you said would open a portal to, and I quote, ‘Death’s door.’ It… DOESN’T work, right? Otherwise…”

Ned gestured at the decidedly not Death's Door locale around them.

…

Flynn’s eyebrow twitches irritatedly.

“...No. But, it took us to the Underworld’s frontgate, Ned.” Flynn reaches down and gives the animal an affectionate scratch behind the ear. “Hence, why ol’ Cerby is here.”

“It’s obvious in retrospect! If we want to arrive at Death’s door, we have to traverse the Underworld itself. Clearly, the portal couldn’t take us beyond the mortal realm, so… it took us as far as it could!”

Ned pinches his temples. “The *only* thing clear here is that you have no idea what you're talking about.”

Flynn reaches into his pocket… And defiantly frisbees down another scrap of paper.

“There. MATHEMATICAL BASIS for my reasoning.”

…The bit flutters down to Ned like an autumn leaf… Kaye snatches it out of the air… Lifting it to his eyes.

…

He sighs.

“Flynn, your ‘math’ is written on the back of a Home Depot receipt… for…” Ned turns over the receipt. “$157 worth of metal piping.”

…

“Ned. You put a lot of weight in the paper my math is written on… Instead of the math itself.”

Flynn sternly shakes his head. “What happened to the guy willing to look beneath the surface enough to draft a career-backstabber for his WarGames team?”

Flynn, from atop his three-headed hellhound, squeezes its fur. Cerberus kicks up its front legs into the air… And spins deeper into the cavernous Underworld.

…

Ned sighs. He breaks into a jog.

…

And before long, the Notorious One is side-by-side walking alongside Flynn and Cerberus.

As he walks, Ned reaches into his pocket and fishes out… his phone!

Kaye lifts his device up to the cave’s ceiling. “...Do you know if this place has Wi-Fi?”

…Flynn sneers down at Kaye. “Ned, are you asking if I think the road to hell has intern-”

“Nevermind.” Kaye mutters. “Got it.”


…

……

Before Flynn can ask what Kaye ‘got’, Kaye is typing into his device…

“...So, to be clear… We’re going to charge through the gates of Hades… Find Death… And fight him until he gives back Lilabeth’s soul and body?”

“Yes, Ned. I covered all of this on the napkin.”

…

Ned chuckles, as he puts the phone away.

Flynn side-eyes Kaye suspiciously. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. Just… reminds me of a story.”

“Funny story, huh? Is it the one about the Man from Nantucket?”

…

“Because, Ned, that story is hilarious, but it has NOTHING to do with our mission.”

“...No. I meant Orpheus and Eurydice. Y’know… Guy goes to the Underworld to recover his lost love.”

“...What the HELL made you think of that?” Flynn squints, like, he’s incapable of seeing any parallel here. 

…

…Ned gazes at Flynn like he’s an alien from another planet. He shakes his head.

“Nevermind. Darcy was telling it to me, so I've been thinking about it.”

“You hadn’t heard it before?”

“Oh, sure, loads of times. It’s a favorite of mine.”

“...Wait.” Flynn’s brow scrunches, perplexed. “Why would she tell you a story you already know?” Flynn tsk-tsks. “Waste of your time. Inconsiderate.”

…Ned scratches his head.

“Oh. Well. I, uh, told her I hadn’t heard it.”

…

Flynn looks into the middle distance… His mouth opens slightly… as his eyes whir back-and-forth… trying to understand Ned’s Sphinxian Riddle.

“See, she mentioned it and I'm familiar,” He says, lifting his left hand. “But, if I said I knew the story… She wouldn’t tell me it.” Kaye adds, lifting his right…. He then puts the ‘facts’ he’s holding together. “Ergo… I told her I didn’t so I could hear it from her.”

…

Flynn’s eyes light up!

He laughs, snapping his fingers.

“Oh! I get it! Like a prank!” Flynn giggles. “You’re wasting HER time, tricking her into thinking you don’t know the story!” Flynn wipes a tear from the corner of his eye, beaming with pride at Kaye. “God, that’s hilarious. I love that. Ned, I didn’t know you were FUNNY!”

“No, it’s… *sigh*.” Ned shakes his head, already running out of energy, trying to explain basic human impulses to Flynn. “Sometimes, you don't prioritize the story over the teller. Because the teller is more important to you.”

…

“Unbelievable. You’ve just said the SINGLE dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Flynn scoffs, like Ned just ruined Flynn’s favorite joke by explaining it. “Why would ANYONE do that? You’ve already deciphered and embedded all valuable knowledge from the story after hearing it the first time!”

…Ned sighs. “Flynn, sometimes a person can tell an old tale in a new fashion. And you might learn something about them based on what details their rendition focuses on.”

…

“Other times, it’s… it’s just nice to listen to someone tell a story. Even when you're acquainted with the ending.”

…

“Dumb.” Flynn repeats, dismissively…

…Ned shakes his head, glancing backward, back from whence he came…

Weighing leaving Flynn to his… ‘adventure’.

…

“So, what’s this fuckin’ story already?”

…Ned side-eyes Flynn, who stares straight ahead, getting comfortable, riding his massive three-headed dog.

“Nah, you’ve definitely heard it before.” Ned shakes his head. “It’s required.”

Flynn sneers, waving his arm dismissively. “Ned, some of us WORK for a living. I don’t have time to wikipedia every FAIRY TALE that’s ever existed.”

Flynn snorts dismissively. “Some of us live in the REAL WORLD!”

His three-headed mythical Greek hellhound also snorts….

…

“Alright.” Ned shrugs, looking down at his phone. “I’ll tell it.”

***

So, quick background.

Orpheus is a… famous comedian in ancient Greece.

…I thought he was a famous speaker?

…Flynn, you said you hadn’t heard this story before.

…*cough*

I haven’t, NED.

…

I just have a sixth-sense for when people are INCORRECT.

Heh, well, Orpheus was a bard and a poet. Back then, bards had to do everything. Recite famous speeches, sling jokes, play tragic songs… He was a Rennaissance man, you might say.

I would not say that. Ancient Greece was three MILLENNIA before the Rennaissance, Ned!

…Look, he did it all, okay? Comedian and Tragedian. Back then, crowds wanted you to do both.

Tough crowds, I imagine.

Anyway, Eurydice - the love of his life. Beautiful, kind, nurturing…

Uh-huh, sure, with ya.

So, one day, Eurydice is walking through a forest.

…

…Really? No snide comment? Like, what's this girl doing walking through a forest?

Ned, in ancient times, if you weren’t in a forest? You were in the ocean.

Walking through forest was how people MOVED through PHYSICAL SPACE. Now, GO ON.

…Well, she’s walking through this forest. When she comes across a satyr.

Ah! A goat-man!

Right. And he finds her attractive. He starts chasing her.

…Sexual-assaulty vibe there.

Indeed. She runs.

Damn, poor Eurasia. Goat legs are pretty much all-terrain… mountains, grass, snow… He’s not slowing down for ANYTHING.

Unfortunately for Eurydice, you’re not wrong. She’s running, he’s closing in… She’s sprinting so hard, she’s not looking where she’s going… And she falls into a den of vipers.

WHAT?!?

Yeah! A den o-

3.5 DRACHMA!?!?

***

“...What?” Ned peers up from his phone, perplexed.

Flynn holds up a finger, demanding patience. “One sec, Ned. Charon, the boatman of the River Styx is DEMANDING 3-and-a-half drachma for passage on his DINGHY!”

Flynn spins towards a hooded skeletal creature, standing in a canoe with his arm outstretched.

“Char, baby. The price has ALWAYS been 2 drachma. One on each of the dead man’s eyes. Do y’all have INFLATION in HELL?!?”

…

The skeletal boatman beckons once more. Guaranteeing no discount.

Flynn scoffs in disbelief.

“Excuse me… But, for 3.5 drachma, are MEALS provided?!? Are we getting LOBSTER A LA KING?”

…Ned squints, perplexed. “Can’t we just ride your three-headed hound across Styx?”

Flynn dismisses his hand. “Any living thing that touches the river’s waters dies, I can’t risk Cerby’s life. I sent him back to the gate…”

Flynn spins around… His three-headed animal companion forlornly turns, before running back to the Gates of Hades.

Flynn wipes away at his eyes. “Stupid… Ash… in the air. Giving me allergies.”

…Charon beckons for payment once more.

Flynn fishes a hand into his pocket. “You’re a THIEF, Charon.”

Flynn side-eyes Ned as he drops four ancient Grecian coins into the boatman’s hand… Then, splits one in half and takes back the split.

“Ned, go on with your stupid viper story.”

…Ned shrugs, glancing back down at his phone.

***

Right, so… Where was I?

This broad, Eurythmics, ran from a goatman rapist and fell into a viper pit. Real pickle. How’s she gonna get out of this one?

…Uh, she doesn’t. She's bitten and dies.

…

Wow. Great story. I get why it’s a ‘favorite’ of yours.

…It… doesn't finish there.

Phew.

That’s a relief.

Was starting to think you were sick, Neduardo. Telling me of a story about a girl dying tragically, AS I work to save Lilabeth. Pretty fucked.

Well, there’s more! If you’d let me tell it…

Who’s stopping ya? CONTINUE.

…Okay, so, her body is discovered by Orpheus, her one love, right?

Ah, yeah, this guy, he’s also in the title. Makes sense the story isn’t over yet.

So, he discovers her body and weeps over it, cradles it in his arms.

…Wait, is her corpse still in the viper pit?

…

He probably should be keeping some distance from the body… Y’know. On account of the vipers.

…

…What?

…If you don’t wanna hear it and you'd rather drown in a pit of snark, I can stop now.

…

…Good, I didn’t even wanna hear it.

…

……

…FINE. I’ll stop interrupting. Keep spinning your yarn, Mark Twain.

Thank you.

So, Orpheus is holding on…

To the love of his life.

Cradling her to his chest.

Hopelessly lost.

It’s done.

She’s gone.

And in the face of this despair…

Confronting the fact that the moment to act is gone…

His love is no more and never shall be again…

…

Orpheus does something… irrational.

Absurd, even.

He begins singing.

He mournfully weeps, wailing for Eurydice.

…Because when nothing rational could work, sometimes you discard rationality…

And try the completely irrational.

…

Y’know what I mean, Mark?

…

Mark?

Goddamn pirates, GET OFF MY SHIP!

…

What?

***

Ned looks up from his phone.

To see Flynn standing, sword at the ready, dueling with a skeletal crew of invaders!

Charon’s empty cloak is stomped against  the ferry’s deck as Flynn duels three… no, four skeletons at once!

Ned’s eyes widen!

“What is happening?”

Flynn groans.

“Ugh, Ned! Isn’t it obvious?”

…

“Not in the slightest!”

Flynn groans once more, as he crosses blades, drawing his shoulder forward, SLASHING! The non-muscle-having skeletons are overpowered, driven overboard!

But, another half-dozen take their place, dueling Flynn!

“We’re battling the Crew of the Damned! A misfit, undead pirate crew, sailing the River Styx! On a mission to stop Charon’s ferry and undo death itself!”

…

Ned scratches his head.

“Wait, I thought WE wanted to undo death itself. Don't we share a common goal?”

Flynn pulls out a skeleton’s rib cage, then bashed the skeleton-that-previously-owned-those-rubs over the head with it! He frisbees the ribs over the ship’s bow, before spinning back toward Ned.

“I want to reverse death for LILABETH, Ned-Dead-Redemption! If these pirates destroy the Charon’s ship that ferries the dead to the Underworld, how could I bring Lilabeth back to life?”

…

Ned snaps his fingers.

“Ohhhh, gotcha.” Kaye points at Charon’s withered cloak, yellow with pus, black as death… “So, the pirates killed Charon? That way he can’t ferry the dead anymore?”

…

Flynn coughs.

“Uh, no. I killed him… pretty quick after we set sail.”

Ned’s eyes widen.

“WHAT?!?”

“He ripped me off! 3-and-a-half drachma, Ned! At those prices? He was begging for a customer mutiny!”

…Ned blinks.

“So, you mutinied against Charon and THEN started battling undead sea pirates?” Ned scoffs. “And you did all that without telling me?!?!”

Flynn slashes into the crowd of skeletal pirates!

“You!”

Slash!

“Told me!”

Parry!

“Not to!”

DODGE!

“INTERRUPT!”

SPIN-KICK!

“YOUR STORY!”

Wham! The very last skeletal pirate scatters into spare bones, which flutter into the Styx.

Flynn, breathingly heavily, sheathes his blade…

…

He walks over to the ship’s wheel.

And turns slightly starboard.

(That’s ‘right’ in nautical directions).

…Flynn coughs.

“There. Continue your tale, First Mate Ned.”

…

Ned sighs, retreating back to his phone.

***

Okay. So, Orpheus sings a mournful ballad over his lost love.

And the forest spirits... The nymphs, the faeries, the forces of nature itself…

They pity him.

The clouds darken. The sky sympathetically weeps.

Thr spirits of nature take pity on Orpheus, informing him there might be a way to save Eurydice.

Great. So, he should do it.

Well, it’s treacherous, you see. They tell him to travel to the Underworld itself. Approach the throne of Hades, the Underworld’s king. And sing his sorrowful dirge. To move the Deity of the Deceased to return Eurydice to the living world.

Oh, man, okay, I’m getting into this. Great story so far, what an opening. What a quest.

So, Orpheus walks to the Underworld. And standing before Hade-

…Wait, what? He just… walked there?

Yeah, Mark, he walks. The spirits told him to. So, in front of Hades, he begins to si-

He just… WALKS? To the UNDERWORLD?

…

Correct.

He doesn’t… invent a portal to Hell? Or have to… WORK to arrive at Hades’ fuckin’ front door?

…I mean, he… uh… it was a pretty long way to walk.

…

Really long.

These forest critters… They just tell him to go to Hell? And next scene of the story, he’s just there?

That’s fuckin’ TERRIBLE plot pacing!

Flynn, I didn’t WRITE this ANCIENT GREEK MYTH. I’m just reciting it!

That’s not how stories work, Ned! Ooh, my goal is to arrive at the peak of Mount Olympus!

…

Neat, I’m there.

You MILLENNIALS think that getting what you want requires WANTING IT and PLANNING TRANSPORT! There’s MORE than that!

…Flynn… WHAT ARE YOU ON ABOUT?!?!

I’M SAYING! There’s a whole… fuckin’... ARC that’s supposed to present itself. He’s supposed to undergo challenges! Grow as a person! The whole…

…

Okay, look, I ACKNOWLEDGE NOW. The SPECIFIC WAY *I* pitched the Optimal Path?

That was a scam.

BUT, the core concept still had nuggets of truth in it! A hero should struggle to earn what he wants! Otherwise, he could have had it any time he wanted!

Flynn, I think you’re equating struggling to earn something to deserving that thing.

There! Exactly right! For once, we agree, Nuthin’-but-Ned!

…No, we don’t!

Look, just because Orpheus went where he thinks he needs to be to achieve his mission? That doesn’t mean he’s where he should be! You’re assuming th-

It’s ridiculous, is what I’m saying. He should have to PROVE himself to get there! The pacing is all off!!!

Flynn, listen t-

Hold on, let’s get some unbiased input.

What do you two think?

…

What? What Two?

***

Ned looks up again from his phone.

In a dark room, Ned and Flynn sit across two cloaked faces, shadowed in the dark.

“Whoa, where are we now?”

Flynn pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Y’know, you millennials, with your face buried in your phones… There’s a WHOLE WORLD GOING ON AROUND YOU!!!!”

…

“Look, we’re in the City of the Dead, right?”

“...Wait.” Ned shakes his head. “I thought we were just on Charon’s… er, our ferryboat, crossing the River Styx?”

“Oh my God, Ned, that was like, FIVE MINUTES AGO! Since then, we’ve run through docking procedures, snuck past the city guard, and we’re now INSIDE the city itself.” Flynn snaps his fingers, impatient with children these days. “Keep up!”

…Kaye sighs. “Fine.”

“SO. Outside the city is the Elysian Fields, where true heroes go when they exit our mortal coil. THIS is where Death’s throne is. Where he weighs of a hero’s soul. We get there? We can battle Death!”

…

“Okay.” Kaye groans, impatiently. “So, can we skip there now? Get this over with?”

…

Flynn laughs. He points his thumb at Ned, looking at the two shadow figures like ‘can you believe this guy?’

The first shadowy figure guffaws, loudly and theatrically…

…

He thrusts his elbow into the second figure, who looks over like ‘what?’ before shrugging and joining the laughter, (albeit quietly and more politely).

“Oh yeah, just like Orpheus!” Flynn smirks derisively. “We’ll just WALK up to Death! Hey, why don’t we make an appointment with his secretary!?! I’m sure he’d love to squeeze us into his schedule to MURDER HIM.” Flynn beats his fists against the table, like he’s dying laughing.

…Ned’s eyes narrow, irritatedly..

“I mean…” Ned mutters, under his breath… “I’m just saying, if we can get to him…”

“We can’t.” Flynn shakes his head, shaking off the last of his laughter. “He has a veil around his throne. Unpassable by anyone… besides himself.”

…

“A veil?”

“Yeah, Death’s Veil.”

“So, okay.” Ned says. “If Death’s veil is impassable by anyone but Death, how do we bypass it?”

“We don’t. It’s impenetrable while present. We’ll have to shatter the veil.”

“...And how, pray tell, do we do that?”

Flynn grins.

“Fortunately, I have an operative who’s been gathering intel for many months.”

The first shadowy figure rips off his cloak!



“Anyeong haseyo, Comrade Ned Kaye!”

…Kaye’s eyes widen.

“Wait… War Criminal?”

“Yep, NK’s been dead for almost a year now. I figure by now he’s mapped every square inch of the Underworld!”

The War Criminal laughs as he reaches into his coat pocket! “Haha, exactly so, Mark Flynn!” NK spreads a map over the wooden table before them. “I have death’s design memorized as if it were written on the back of my hand!”

NK lifts his own hand to his face to emphasize his point!

…

Suddenly, he squints at it in confusion. He lifts his own hand closer to his face.

“Wait…” He reads writing on the back of his hand. “When you get home… put the eggs in the fridge?”

…

“How long has that message been there?”

“Since you died probably.”

…

“Oh no!”

…

“My eggs!”

***

Inside NK’s military compound’s kitchen, a set of eggs has been sat on the counter…

For ELEVEN MONTHS.

…

The stench is… truly awful.

***

“Drat!” NK snaps his fingers.

Ned scratches his head. “Wait, hold on. I thought you and NK were… uh… more adversarial these days?”

Flynn’s eyebrow twitches. “How do you mean?”

“I mean, didn’t NK just use Chad GPT’s body to try and kill you?”

“No, see, that was NK’s spirit OCCUPYING Chad GPT. This is NK’s soul!”

NK scoffs. “Pish-posh, Mark Flynn! The soul is a fabrication of your Western culture! As is every religion! All cruel ploys designed to trick you poor capitalists into futile individualist pursuits! Abandoning the beauty of the collective!”

…Ned squints, confused.

“Wait, hold on. You don’t believe in souls?”

“Naturally not, Comrade Ned Kaye! As a True Korean, I forego all supernatural beliefs!”

…

“Haven’t you… lived in the Underworld the last eleven months? Where actions in life are judged by an arbiter… Like a religion?”

“Ah!” NK lifts a finger, as if he’s about to refute Ned’s point! “I comprehend your reasoning! BUT!”

NK claps his hands together.

“I choose NOT to think about it!”

…

“I see.”

“Regardless, while you were prattling on about your story.” Flynn cuts in. “I apologized to NK for… sending him here. It’s my fault what happened, and I’d take it back if I could, I promise.” Flynn smacks NK on the shoulder, which is… affection, I guess. NK nods approvingly.

…

“...What?”

“What what?”

Ned thinks about what Flynn just said.

…Then, goes over it again.

Ned’s eyes widen like a pair of saucers.

“...I don’t know if I’ve ever heard you apologize to anyone. For anything!” Ned shakes his head. “I can’t believe I missed it.”

Flynn scoffs, pointing at the still shrouded fourth beside NK. “Shuddup and focus, Phone Boy! You, me, NK, and Kato over there have a veil to pierce if we’re going to defeat Death!”

“...Ah, Mark Flynn. If you’ll recall, my dear subordinate Kato still walks among the living.”

…Flynn squints.

“Wait, then… who’s…” Flynn turns toward the second shadowy figure.

…Who sheds his cloak as well.

“Mister Flynn.” A small, slender figure timidly smiles, his face hidden behind thick-rimmed glasses. ”It’s a p-p-pleasure to see you again.”

…Flynn’s mouth drops.

“Larry.”

…Ned exhales.

“So, this is that wolfman guy you mentioned earlier? Like, the Underworld sure is conveniently populated by the people you’ve wronged, huh, M-”

WHAM! Flynn flips the table over.

“My map!” NK shrieks, scooping it gently off the ground like a wounded shoulder.

…Flynn steps forward.

And wraps Lawrence in a bearhug.

“I’m so sorry, Larry.”

…

“I’m so fucking sorry.” Flynn’s eyes soften. The spirit of hatred and spite…

Starts to well up. His eyes watery.

His voice cracking…

“I choked.” Flynn lets out. “I l-let you down when you n-needed me and I wasn’t th-there a-and… Fuckin’ Dracula, that… Pr-pr-ICK. It sh-should’ve been hi-... It sh-should’ve been… me. I’m…”

…

Flynn tries to keep letting out this apology he’s clearly kept deep in the cockles of his black heart for almost two years now... But his tongue ties, overcome with emotion. He squeezes his one-time, the pacifist wolfman.

…A hand squeezes his back.

Flynn looks up.

Lawrence smiles, nodding. “It’s okay… It’s okay.”

…Flynn quickly wipes his hand across his face, regaining his composure.

“Phew, sorry… uh… The sulfur fumes down here in the Underworld..” Flynn clears his throat, wiping his nose. “It’s awful for my allergies.”

…

“Okay!” Flynn snaps his fingers, pointing at the War Criminal. “NK, hit us with the plan.” Then, his arm spins toward Ned. “Ned, keep the story coming.”

…Ned squints perplexed. “...You want me to keep telling the story… While you plot breaching Death’s security?”

“I’ve been doing everything else while you’ve told this story, Flanders. Honestly? I don’t think I can go back to not having it on in the background of my life.” Flynn shrugs. “I’m just this way now.”

“Indeed!” NK chimes in. “From what I have heard, this tale is most charming! A foolish westerner singing foolishly to his equally foolish western gods. Like one of your many American podcasts, I am enamored!”

…Ned shrugs. And turns back to his phone.

***

…Okay, so… Orpheus arrives before Hades.

Singing this song that moved the nature spirits enough to guide him to the Underworld.

Drew the Gods’ favor enough that they wrapped him in a shield of their blessings.

Charmed Cerberus enough that the guard dog allowed Orpheus past the gates of Hades.

And he stands before Hades’ throne. He sings…

…And Hades considers Orpheus’ plea for his love back.

…

……

C’mon, Hades, you fuck, give him Yuri Lowenthal’s soul back!

…

And Hades offers Orpheus a deal.

…If he turns back the way he came, from the Underworld, back… Eurydice will follow him out and be free.

…Really?

Kinda anti-climactic. He just… gets her back? That easy?

Not quite, Mark. See, if he turns around before they make it out of the Underworld… Her soul is lost to Hades forever.

So, Orpheus leaves… Singing with joy.

Jesus Christ, this guy sings when he’s happy AND sad?

He's not as guarded as some of us.

Anyway, as he steps onwards, as he sings… He hears behind him… A familiar voice.

A beautiful voice… Harmonizing with his ballad.

Oh shit, it’s EuroDisney!

With his whole heart, Orpheus wants to turn around. Every fiber of his being wishes to embrace the love he thought lost forever.

DON’T DO IT, O-MAN! GET OUTTA THERE! STICK TO THE MISSION!

But, Orpheus resists that urge, singing, putting one foot before the other… Marching out of the Underworld.

YES! YES!

Orpheus walks past the gates… Past Cerberus… Beyond death’s realm.

GET THERE!

He walks outside… He feels the Earth under his feet. The life springs back into the air around him… He’s left the Underworld!

FUCK YEAH! MY BOY PULLED IT OFF!

He spins around, joy in his heart, enraptured with euphoria!

Fuckin’ YEAH!

…

But Eurydice is gone.

…

…What?

She’s not behind him. Her harmony gone. The warmth Orpheus felt evaporates.

…

…Lost and confused… Orpheus considers Hades’ words… That he must not turn around until he’s escaped the Underworld…

…

No.

That THEY must not turn back. Until THEY’VE escaped the Underworld.

…What?!?

Yes. Orpheus decides. Falling on his knees, consumed by grief. He must’ve turned around too soon… Before his love had the chance to touch the Earth.

…

……

…Why?

WHY THE FUCK DID YOU TELL ME THIS STORY, NED?!?

…What, what do you mean?

What a TERRIBLE STORY! A guy gets to the endzone and then CHOKES!?! He blows the game on a technicality!?! And loses an innocent fucking soul!?! What the FUCK, Ned!

What’s the point?!? What’s the moral?!? Not to ever lose focus when doing something?

NEWSFLASH, NEDAROO! I ALREADY DO THAT! I will NEVER LOSE FOCUS!

I WILL GET LILABETH BACK!

I CAN FIX THIS.

…

Mark, that’s not what that story is about at all.

…

Whaddya mean?

See, some people believe that version. That Hades spoke the truth. And that Orpheus must have somehow failed the test and failed Eurydice.

…

But, I disagree.

I believe that Orpheus was powerless to reverse death from the beginning.

That someone died that Orpheus felt tremendous guilt about losing.

Ned takes a breath, some less than desirable memories bubbling up.

And Orpheus, in the face of a great and senseless loss, believed in a senseless mission.

That maybe, if he spoke to Death…

Or sang to Death…

Or impressed Death…

Death would twist fate to give him what he wanted.up

…And Hades even played his part and sent him on an errand with clear conditions.

…

But no one followed him out.

Orpheus left the way he came… Alone.

That story isn’t about Orpheus’ failure.

It’s about how we grieve.

Mark, when we lose someone… People search desperately for ways fate could or should have changed.

What could we have done differently?

How could we undo what we did?

…And sometimes, we tell ourselves...

If I’d done things different? They’d still be here.

If I just changed my ways, I can undo what I’ve done.

…

Maybe if I took one extra step forward before turning..?

But, those stories we fabricate while we’re in pain?

They’re just stories.

…

Sometimes, the only way to truly heal.

Is to throw away the comforts of grand promises and fables.

And face reality.

…

Y’know what I’m saying, Mark?

…

……

Mark?

It’s time.

…Phew, I’m glad to hear it, Mark. I agree.

It’s time to beat death once and for all.

…

Goddammit.


***

Ned looks up from his phone.

Flynn stands at the edge of the Elysian Fields.

His blade at the ready…

“DEATH! I’VE COME FOR YOU!”

On the distant end of the fields… Is a tall throne. Sitting atop the throne, is a shadowy figure.

Motionless.

…

Ned exhales.

“So… what? We broke Death’s veil?”

Flynn grins, pressing his blade forward…

SSSSSSSHHHHHH! The sword  is repelled backwards by a dark invisible aura.

“We’re about to…”

Flynn reaches behind himself… Retrieving…

A warhammer.

Covered in Norse ruins.

“Mjolnir.”

Flynn drags the hammer on the ground beside him… The metal head zaps blades of grass as it’s dragged…

“Phew, heavy boy, arentcha?”

…

Ned shakes his head.

“Mark, you’re mixing up mythologies. Why would the NORSE mythological warhammer Mjolnir… be anywhere NEAR the GREEK ELYSIAN FIELDS?”

“See, I had the same question. But NK’s map revealed that Valhalla neighbored the Elysian Fields! They’re both lands where heroes go to conquer and wage battle forever more! Very similar…Basically once death decides you’re a hero, it’s just sorting by ethnicity.”

…Ned clears his throat. “That makes it sound… kinda racist?”

“Oh, it is!” Flynn claps his hands. “But! We seized Mjolnir… It can break Death’s veil.”

Flynn runs his finger along the grip of the Warhammer. It sizzles with lightning energy.

“But… In order to wield its power, we need a true hero.”

Flynn exhales, patting Kaye on the shoulder.

“Only one with a pure heart… with an untainted sense of justice… could wield such a weapon.”

“One capable of seeing the good in everyone… Even when anyone else would be blind to it.”

…

Ned covers his heart, genuinely touched.

“Flynn, that’s… Wow.” Ned smiles, beaming. “Well, I don’t know if I agree, but I'd be honored to-”

Flynn lifts his index finger. “Hold that thought, Neddy.”

Flynn leans backward!

“NK! HIT IT!”

In one scoop, NK bends down… AND HOISTS THE HAMMER OVER HIS HEAD!

“IN THE NAME OF THE GLORIOUS LEADER!”

…

Ned pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I really ought to learn at this point…"

…

“*sigh*”

NK BRINGS THE HAMMER DOWN!

SMASHES THE VEIL!

THE DARK MAGIC EXPLODES INTO SHARDS LIKE SHATTERED GLASS!

…Opening the road… to Death’s throne.

“Death! I say now! Surrender Lilabeth’s soul!” Flynn calls out! “Or else… I’MA BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU!”

…

The shadowy figure…

Atop the throne.

Rises up.

And walks forward.

Emerging from the shadows.

…

Flynn gasps.

“I knew it! Your cold, calculating… Your ruthless efficiency… You could have only been one being all along.”



“TheoooooooOOOOOOOO!” Flynn draws his blade prepared for war.

“Oh, go to Hell, Flynn.” Ned dismisses, angrily. “you’re saying… THEO IS DEATH?!?”

”Yes.” Theo confesses, evilly! Sinisterly! Diabolically! ”Of course, Flynn. I’ve plotted against you from the very beginning.”

Ned scoffs. “Some things never change, huh?" Ned sits down with his phone, delivering a middle finger at everyone and everything around him.

Ignoring this, Theo draws a scythe from behind his back.

”And now? I shall finish the job I started TEN YEARS AGO by NOT DOING MY BEST IN THAT TRIOS MATCH!”

Theo charges running towards Flynn.

Flynn draws his sword! ”I KNEW YOU WERE STILL MAD AT ME ABOUT THAT!”

Flynn charges!

The two XWF Legends dash towards each other!

Only one will survive!

The fate of the WORLD is at st-

“So, Flynn, are you going to the funeral?”

…

“…What?”

“Lilabeth’s funeral. When is it?”

…

……

…………

.

.

.

***

Denny’s - 3:43 AM

Flynn stands on a worn booth seat…

Fist in front of him, like he’s wielding a sword.

…Sitting across from him is Ned, on his phone.

…

Flynn looks down…

On the table before him…

Scraps. Bits of paper. Napkins and receipts… And doodled across them…

Sketches of imaginary cities.

Of fantastical weaponry.

Of fictional plans to beat Death.

…

The ravings of a lunatic.

Pseudoscientific blather.

Bad math.

…

Twin glasses of water sit on the tabletop. Moisture gathered under them…

The wet surface has dampended the pages, blending into madness soup.

Into a cacophony of insanity, almost as illegible and unfollowable…

As it was when Flynn first wrote it.

…

Quote:”I don’t care what *you* do. I’m FIXING this.” Flynn takes a deep breath… And sprints through the portal Front Door to the Denny’s.

From the diner’s exterior, Ned can see… Flynn sit down at a booth, grabbing a fistful of napkins… To sketch out more of his insane plan.

Quote:Flynn, from atop his three-headed hellhound, squeezes its fur. Cerberus kicks up its front legs into the air… And spins deeper into the cavernous Underworld.

Flynn paces the floor of the Denny’s, with an odd walk like he’s in a saddle.

…

Ned sighs. He breaks into a jog from the booth they’ve chosen.

…

Before long, the Notorious One is side-by-side walking alongside Flynn and Cerberus.

As he walks, Ned reaches into his pocket and fishes out… his phone!

Kaye lifts his device up to the cave’s ceiling. “...Do you know if this place has Wi-Fi?”

…Flynn sneers down at Kaye. “Ned, are you asking if I think the road to hell has intern-”

“Nevermind.” Kaye mutters, finding ‘DENNYS WIFI GUEST’ on his phone. “Got it.”

Quote:“Other times, it’s… it’s just nice to listen to someone tell a story. Even when you're acquainted with the ending.”

Flynn scoffs, scrawl his crude adventure of braving the Underworld to rescue a dead girl’s soul.

Quote:WHAM! Flynn flips the table over.

“My map!” NK shrieks, scooping it gently off the ground like a wounded shoulder.

“HEY!” The server from Denny’s, (whose checked in on Flynn and Ned once in the last three hours… “That linoleum on the wood comes outta my paycheck!”

…Flynn steps forward.

And wraps Lawrence the server in a bearhug.

“I’m so sorry, Larry.”

…

“My name’s Greg, dude. Get off!”

…

“I’m so fucking sorry.” Flynn’s eyes soften.

…

Greg wiggles his way out of Flynn’s grip…

“You got problems, man…” Greg wanders off to continue not serving people.

…

…A hand squeezes Flynn’s back.

Flynn looks up.

Lawrence smiles, nodding. Ned guides Flynn back to the booth, patiently. “It’s okay… It’s okay.”

Quote:People search desperately for ways fate could or should have changed.

What could we have done differently?

How could we undo what we did?

…And sometimes we tell ourselves...

That if things were just a little different, they’d still be here.

Or if I just changed my ways, maybe I can undo what I’ve done.

…

Maybe if I took one extra step forward before turning..?

But, those stories we invent while we’re in pain?

They’re just stories.

…

Sometimes, the only way to truly heal.

Is to throw away the comforts of grand promises and fables.

And face reality.

Face… Reality.

…

“…Sorry...” Flynn’s hand shakes, as he wipes cold sweat from his brow.

“Whadja say, Ned?”

Ned glances up from his phone.

“Lilabeth’s funeral. When is it? Her family might appreciate you being there.”

…

Flynn nods, his mind adjusting back to reality. He fishes his own hand into his pocket for his phone…

He scrolls through his calendar.

…

…

“Oh.”

…

Flynn clears his throat.

“It was… yesterday.”

…

“I missed it.”

***

Reality.

I lost track of it for a minute there…

I convinced myself into the same bullshit mindset that every other face in this goddamned company falls into.

I’m special.

I’m ordained by a higher power to twist arms outta sockets and break bones.

…

Now that I’ve got my head back on straight…

I dunno about all that.

I’m not like the other ‘heroes’ you find around the XWF.

I’m not Kido, blessed by a goddess with divine combat prowess.

I’m not ALIAS, traveling across realities to preserve the sanctity of the multiverse.

I’m not Bobby Bourbon, who…

…

Actually, full disclosure, I have no idea what Booberry is doing out here.

Didn’t he kill a dog in his last promo?

People are still out here chanting ‘Fun’ for a dog murderer? Jesus…

…

Anyway. My point…

I’ve pulled off a few things when the chips were stacked against me.

I’ve achieved things no one in this company has ever achieved before.

I’ve fought tooth-and-mail from day one to keep my spot as a mortal man among gods, devils, the undead, mythical creatures… What-have-you.

…

But beating those fanciful characters?

Didn’t make me a God.

I’m just a guy.

A talented wrestler, but a mortal one.

I'm not gonna beat death itself.

Lilabeth is gone.

…

But, in the here-and-now?

People that need my help.

I can save those other kids Gravy took.

Someone’s gotta.

And if none of those other fucking IMMACULATE good guys that the XWF fans love can fit ‘saving children from a madman trying to explode their skulls’ into their busy schedules?

…

Guess they’re gonna have to settle for a flawed one that the fans boo.

A guy who might fuck up along the way.

But will fight with every scrap of my fucking being.

To prevent the harm I let slip by once before.

…

While we’re talking reality.

Micheal Graves, everybody.

Seems like every other week, Gravy is declaring that his new angle is the KEY to TAKING OVER THE WRESTLING WORLD!!!

Remember when Gravy was a cyborg for three weeks? Apparently, he was SET TO TAKEOVER ALL OF WRESTLING!!!

…

Then, y’know… I kicked his ass.

Then, Bourbon powerbombed him and, PLOT TWIST… it turned out Gravy’s costume was less “gears and wires” and more “cardboard and dry-erase markers”.

Turns out he was running around in Botface!

Very offensive to the robotic members of our staff! How do you think you made MARTY the robot referee feel, GRAVY?!?



Rewind a little ways further back when Gravy was pretending to be a believer in the Optimal Path… That he would suffer his way into beating me for the Universal Title.

He spent a few days trying to out-suffer me. Then went radio silent the week of the show.

And I beat the ever-loving SHIT out of ol’ Mieky, in the main event of Bad Medicine.

What’s my point?

Graves loves to play pretend.

He loves to reach into his costume box and play dress-up.

And he’s decided to go back to an old classic.

‘The Dark Warrior’ Micheal Graves.

With his mist formula that Bourbon already reverse-engineered and started selling en masse on his website.

With his ridiculous costume.

And if you know anything about ‘Dark Warrior’’s past? With his biting off more than he can chew.

Gravy’s always swung above his weight class. And taken poundings every other week because of it.

(They would be poundings EVERY week but, we switched to bi-weekly shows)

No. Gravy’s latest transformation into the Dark Warrior?

Is just another con. Another desperate trick by a man who’s always been more flash than substance.

Who’s always tried to outrage… because he can’t out-entertain OR out-wrestle anyone on the roster?

Remember. I walked a mile inside Gravy’s shoes.

Piloting his DOUGHY body and SHIT hands from the inside.

I know Gravy’s mind.

And deep down, Gravy knows who he is.

A MEDIOCRE talent.

A guy who needs these tricks because if he fought on the same playing field as anybody else in the locker room?

He comes up short.

Ol’ Mieky clings to his edgelord pomposity and paltry bag of tricks, because without them? He’s fucking irrelevant.

The only way Gravy could make the front page is by executing a national tragedy.

…

Case in point? Graves’s latest trick.

Kidnapping children.

Strapping explosives to their neck.

My neck.

And his neck.

An Exploding Dog Collar match.

…

Honestly?

Not bad.

Hell, the ol’ Flynn would’ve almost been impressed.

…Almost

This is some B-minus-Level pre-match headgames from typically a C-student. Not too shabby.

And I do understand its reasoning.

I can’t lie. And Graves has said it before.

There’s more common than uncommon between Mark Flynn and Micheal Graves… Historically.

We both piss off people that think wrestlers need to act or talk a certain way.

We both would rather experiment with the art form than play the hits every week.

We’d both rather die in that ring than let a man claim they beat us.

In a different world, Gravy? Where things turned out differently?

We might’ve found ourselves aligned… Instead of opposing sides of the ring.

…

But, let’s not dream.

Let’s talk reality.

You’re no all-powerful supervillain.

You’re barely even a villain.

You’re a pathetic, small, child-kidnapping coward. Strapping explosives to the necks of children because you KNOW for a GODDAMNED FACT.

That in a head-to-head matchup?

I fucking OWN you.

EVERY.

GODDAMN.

TIME.

That’s the funny thing about reality, Mieky.

Last week, my head was in the clouds.

I dreamed of being the great hero, purging the ultimate evil from the XWF…

Then, my ol’ buddy Ned brought me back down to Earth.

And I saw you for what you really are.

A nothing.

A nobody.

A cockroach that runs when the lights come on.

And this weekend? On Warfare?

I don’t have to destroy you.

I don’t have to eradicate you.

I just have to beat you.

Save the kids.

And leave you…

Writhing and humiliated in the center of the ring.

Foiled in your quest to cling to relevance.

Completely and utterly.

By GOOD GUY.

MARK.

FLYNN.

…

That’s how Micheal Graves vs Mark Flynn will end.

The same way it always ends, Mieky.

Not with a bang.

…Heheh.

But with a whimper.