Corey awoke in a black canopied bed and instantly knew he was somewhere foreign. Sitting up to take in his surroundings, he found himself stripped to the waist in the midst of a circular room that had all the trappings of a medieval tower bedroom. Just outside the arched window a blood moon hung in a blackened sky, and the faint effervescent glower of embers wafted up from below. Corey’s feet hit the cool stone of the floor as he went to the window and looked upon a horrific sight. Down below, a massive fence of spears were erected, upon which countless bodies were impaled. Still more were leaping from the windows and ramparts of the caste to die on this blood choked fence below. And then, to Corey’s horror he saw that some of the impaled figures were still alive, pulling themselves off the spikes only to return inside the castle, cycle back around and cast themselves into suicidal oblivion once again. This scene was set against a hellish blaze and still more corpses strewn about seemingly in the aftermath of some terrible battle.

Corey turned from the window, aghast at the grisly surreal scene. It’s a nightmare, it has to be. He pinched his eyes shut, willing himself to awaken. But he remained stuck there, and what’s more started to feel a curious tingling on the back of his hands. Corey opened his eyes again and felt the tingling sensation increase, until it turned into an uncomfortable stretching feeling. And that’s when the lumps appeared beneath the veins of his hands, lumps that soon grew in size until they were a whole entire hand beneath the flesh of his own hand, one stacked upon the other. Corey cried out in shock and horror as he looked down and the tingling sensation captured his entire body. His stomach started to bloat with a ghastly tumor the shape and form of a human head, including a screaming mouth stretched taut against the thin flesh of Corey’s abdomen. Corey screamed so much he was lost in it, lost to the sound and pure horror he experienced as another figure was BIRTHED from his own body, sliding to the floor covered in a black tar like ichor. But Corey was miraculously unwounded by the procedure, and any pain he felt had already started to ebb away.

Corey circled the thin quivering form he had birthed. It started to rise to its feet and Corey took a few precautionary steps back. It was like an infant doe in its awkward movements, swaying as it begun to master gravity and put its feet underneath it. It was still covered in the black substance, but Corey was starting to glean features now. Long blond hair, almost white, was matted to his shoulders and back. His features were angular, almost vampiric. And the eyes, black as pitch and blacker yet than the foul substance he was coated in. Those dark eyes met Corey’s, and the newly birthed THING started to speak.

Hello again, Corey.

It was The Engineer. HIS Engineer. His tormentor.

Corey continued backing up, shaking his head incredulously. No, no, no…I got rid of you. You're dead!

And yet, here I stand. The Engineer snapped his fingers and he was instantly clean, now standing nude in the center of the room. His pallid form cut a sharp contrast with the night outside the window he was obscuring. And a little bird told me you got an interesting offer. It turns out one of my brethren…

No, enough! Shut it! I don't want to hear anymore. Corey hollered.

Oh I think it's your turn to shut up.

Corey tried to retort but found his lips immobile. Reaching up to them he found that the flesh of his mouth had been sewn shut.

Corey, Corey, Corey…so quick to dismiss ME and yet the moment another Engineer enters your midst you find yourself strangely tantalized. The Engineer's face seems to slip, briefly forming a human skull before returning to its livelier appearance.

Corey wanted to lash out against these brazen lies, but could not even pry his mouth open to try.

I can see it on your face Corey. I'm a liar, right? Well that makes two of us. Except you're lying to yourself. I know you want vengeance for what happened to your home. I also know you don't have the stones to take it on your own. So why not embrace a little help? A little abdication of personal responsibility. You know, Corey, when they used to execute people by firing squad they always loaded one rifle with a blank so that if one of the executioners later felt guilty for the deed, they could always presume their gun had the blank and they were blameless. Well The Engineer is your blank in the gun, Corey. Thunder Knuckles dies, and you can always rest easy knowing that maybe it was the other resident in your head pulling the trigger and not you. Savvy?

Corey scanned the room again, desperate for some point of egress. He noticed now that there wasn’t even a door. Just the one solitary window overlooking catastrophe. But it could be the only way he could escape. Corey plunged towards the window and took flight out of it, falling down…



Awaking in his hotel room, Corey found his sheets awash in sweat. He heaved himself up to a sitting position and turned on the light. All was well. Except for one thing.

Pan was gone.

Corey turned to the empty side of the bed, recollecting their last argument outside the club. Guilt still nagged at him, as well as a profound sadness that he may have fucked up a good thing.

Headed to the bathroom, Corey turned on the sink and ran his fingers under the cool water, splashing it into his face and rubbing it over his sweat stained face. He feared there would be no more sleep tonight, and he had an early day tomorrow. Another hype video was due to be filmed, as well as a preshow autograph signing he had to fly out to in Seattle. Corey sighed and turned off the water, returning to the common area and casting a glance at the bed. Throwing on a shirt, he decided to head to the vending machine. But upon opening the door, he was startled to see someone already there.

‘Jo!

It was Joachim Bright, one of Corey’s closest friends. Which was a bit of an understatement considering Corey had recently wished him back to life with the help of a djinn in the run up to War Games. Corey didn’t have much time to reflect on the bizarre nature of his existence before Joachim started speaking.

Sorry ‘Cor. Didn’t meant to startle you. I couldn’t sleep, and I was hoping you couldn’t either. So I came over for a visit.

Well, you’re dead on the money unfortunately. I’ve had a bad night. Probably all the sleep I’m gonna get. Come in.

Corey opened the door further, inviting his friend inside. Joachim took a seat in the living area on the couch, and Corey sat beside him.

What’s keeping you up?

Nightmare. Long story.

Ah. Where’s Pan?

Corey hesitated. Joachim was completely in the dark when it came to their recent troubles, and he preferred to keep it that was for now. He went back to Neverland for a spell. Pun not intended. Corey chuckled, but certainly wasn’t feeling the mirth.

Is everything ok between you guys?

Sure. It’s just that Pan ages normally when he’s here on Earth so he tries not to stay too long.

Ah. Joachim smiled. I dont think I’ll ever get over the fact that you’re dating a fable.

I think he would object to the term “fable”. Corey smiled back, keeping it lighthearted. But why are you up?

Well…Joachim’s features drooped into a mild frown…it’s about you. Frankly, I’m worried about you.

Corey grimaced inwardly. He really didn’t need another person fearing for him. But he would hear Joachim out regardless.

What I saw at Leap of Faith, when you attacked TK. It honestly, well…it kinda scared me.

Corey leaned back, taking a moment to process this. It scared me too. He replied quietly. I let my anger get ahead of me. But Joachim…he burned down our home, man. You don’t think he deserves to pay for that?

Joachim looked torn. I guess I do. But at the same time, seeing you like that. It just…it wasn’t you. And I don’t want to lose you. I mean, I don’t want you to lose who you are.

“I don’t want to lose you.” The statement resounded inside of Corey, and he was moved. You’re not gonna lose me ‘Jo. And I’m not going to lose myself either. I promise. Okay?

Joachim nodded, though Corey wasn’t certain how much stock Joachim was putting in his promise. To his relief, Joachim changed the subject. I still feel so indebted to you for what you did to me.

Don’t be. You don’t owe me anything but your friendship.

I knew you would say that. It’s just that it’s hard not be overwhelmed by the gift you gave me. The gift of life! I have another chance because of you.

And I want to make sure nothing happens to you again. Corey hadn’t realized it, but in speaking the words he had also placed a hand on Joachim’s knee. He awkwardly retracted it, feeling he’d crossed a boundary. Joachim noticed the faux pas, but didn’t seem put off by it. Instead, his eyes lingered on Corey’s hand for a moment.

I’ll stick by you no matter what, Corey. And I’ll never judge you or steer you wrong…

Corey was taken aback by Joachim’s words, and he put a hand up. Where’s all this coming from ‘Jo?

Pan’s mad at you, isn’t he?

The question caught Corey off guard. Well…why? What makes you say that?

Joachim threw his hands up, as though waving off an accusation. I mean, I don’t want things to be rocky between you guys. I love you both.

“I love you both.” Again, the words struck a chord. And Corey could sense that there was something going unsaid. ‘Jo, what’s up man?

Joachim looked away, the scant spectre of guilt crossing his features. I…I can’t…

It’s okay. Just tell me. That whole “no judgement” thing goes both ways, you know?

Joachim pinched his features together, clearly struggling. Finally, he began to speak. I’d be lying if I said my feelings towards you hadn’t changed since you brought me back. It’s more than just feeling like I owe you a debt Corey. It’s feeling like…like I might love you.

Corey reeled. After everything that had happened to him of late, he could safely say he didn’t see this coming. He and Joachim had always been friends and nothing more. In fact, before Joachim had died Corey hadn’t even realized he was attracted to men. There had been nothing there. Oh… Corey replied lamely.

I’m sorry. It’s stupid! I’m sorry!

No, no, no. It’s fine! You feel the way you feel Joachim. And I respect you being honest with me. I do. Corey knew he would have to measure his response. Or did he? Did he have to tread carefully? Honestly? In that fleeting moment, Corey suddenly became aware of just how alone he felt. His eyes cast back over to the vacant bed he had once shared with Pan. And he became acutely aware of the fact that he had nobody to share his fears with. Nobody to talk to about The Engineer’s offer. Nobody to parse his feelings of anger and disappointment in himself. In short, Corey felt profoundly lonely and vulnerable.

And he put his hand back on Joachim’s knee.

Joachim looked down at it, and a small smile tugged at his lips. Corey, you…

Riding an onslaught of confused emotion, Corey’s lips met Joachim’s. And Corey was half surprised to feel Joachim kiss him back feverishly. It all happened so fast as the passions of the moment took told, and they rapidly removed each other’s clothing and went to the bed. As Corey laid on top of Joachim, Joachim pulled him in close and whispered in his ear. I love you. I’ve always loved you.

Two Hours Later….

Joachim was sleeping peacefully beside him, and Corey was watching his chest rise and fall as he escaped into his thoughts. The lovemaking with Joachim had been frenetic and intense. It felt right. The chemistry. The caring. It hadn’t been some cheap fling. There was something there.

Or perhaps, Corey reasoned, he was simply deluding himself again. Deluding himself from realizing that Joachim had just been the latest in a long chain of metaphorical narcotics he had been using to make himself feel better. To distract himself from his woes. And that thought terrified Corey. To think, he had brought this boy back to life just to use him now, to help Corey assuage his tempers. It was abominable. Terrible.

And with mounting shame, Corey realized it was probably also true.

Later That Day….

We open on Corey Smith sitting in his ruined home. He sits upon a simple wooden chair that has somehow escaped the tumult. But it’s what’s behind him that draws the eye. Because one side of the room is an ashen mess, walls laid waste down to the studs and foundation, furniture melted coils of springs and shared wood. Everything beautiful made despairing. But on the other side of Corey’s seat, there was hardly any damage at all. Just the creeping black soot and telltale remarks of smoke damage would suggest a fire had ever occurred. And Corey sat in this impasse, between what is whole and what is obliterated, and he began to speak.

I’m always interested in what people call their hype spots when they go to air. Regardless of whether they’re some slice of life, trash talking heat builder, or something that cuts to the confines of reality itself….the NAME means SOMETHING. And what people chose to call these moments can be very, very telling.

Christian Andrews called his Resurgence of Legends.

“Resurgence of Legends”. Corey seemed to be taking the mouthfeel of the words, rolling them around his tongue. Then, he smirks.

You’ve got some cast iron juevos, Christian I’ll give you that. Because for you to assert that you are any kind of legend after one milquetoast XTreme title reign and four whole matches under your belt has got to be damn near the ballsiest thing I’ve seen yet. Or the most delusional.

“Resurgence of Legends”. You know, when I first saw that pop up I was like “Holy shit, is James Raven back? Did Doc D’Ville start to care again? Did Alias return?! Has Drezdin once again blessed us with his presence?!” Corey pokes a finger at the camera. Incidentally, if you ever tell James Raven I called him a legend, I will deny it to my dying day.

But yeah, whew. What a case of blue balls that was. And in case it hasn’t clicked for you yet Christian, you’re not a legend. You’re not even close. I’m not even a legend.

Four matches does not a legend make, Christian. Even if they were victories.

Four matches. Jesus Christ. Nah man, nah. The bar is not THAT low.

But what an ego on this guy, huh? I bet he also loves tossing words around like “legacy”. I bet he thinks this match up between us is going to be some earth shattering, sky thundering battle for the ages. Something spoken of in bardic odes for centuries to come. Something that’ll change the very world!

Corey starts to laugh.

It’s gonna be none of that Christian. Because you don’t bring enough clout to this match to make it that epic. You just don’t, okay? Maybe in a year or so, if you actually stick around this time, you’ll be able to make those kind of claims to fame. But you’re nowhere fucking close right now. Capiche?

Make no mistake though Christian. I would actually like to see you stick around. The fact is that the XWF? It’s getting a little…stale. I barely have any legit contenders to my Universal Championships if we don’t count the two guys with briefcases who we all know are going to take the easiest possible way out of that scenario. I want to see fresh blood…new faces! I want guys like Christian Andrews and Slade Durant and even that freak Roger over on Anarchy to stick around.

But don’t any of you dare go calling yourselves legends. That ain’t yo word.

And hey, before I’m accused of being too mean to the newbie who ain’t quite a newbie, I will say this. Those four matches you had? Yeah, I watched them Christian. And yeah, you were pretty good. Good enough in fact that I think this match between us, well, it’s gonna be a CONTEST. I’m not gonna roll you. That much is clear. But do you have enough in the tank to face a Universal Champion after a five year absence? That bit’s a little murkier.

I don’t think you’re going to win this Christian. Yeah, I’m a little biased, but looking at this clinically; you’re working off five years of ring rust against one of the very best the XWF has to offer. You’ve never come close to touching the top like I have, despite your so called “legend” bonafides.

But I hope you learn from this loss. I hope you carry something away from it and stick around.

This is gonna hurt like hell, Christian. But it doesn’t have to be the end.

You feel me?