Mexico

1976

The boy was haunting. Skeletal. A waif clinging to life for the sanctity of the innumerable machines he’s tethered too. It’s plain to see the contours of his ravaged form even through the blankets. But his face bore the cancer’s insidiousness worst of all. Gaunt, with eyes sunken into graying sockets. A living death mask. All vitality but a wisp smothered by the onslaught of rapidly replicating cells devouring his body. And then there were the smells, the tang of antiseptic with an undercurrent of stale urine. He tried not to be moved by the pathetic sight, but couldn’t help himself.

Kris (though that wasn't his name at the time) chanced a look through the window into the hallway. Alexandria (that wasn’t her name at the time either) spoke with the boy’s parents furtively. The mother sobbed into a handkerchief and nodded her head, as her husband wound a protective arm around her shoulders. Alexandria stole back into the boy’s room, stepping around to the opposite side of the bed where she too looked upon the fragile child there.

“They want to try.” Alexandria spoke without looking up at Kris.

“Do they understand?” Kris spoke stolidly.

“They understand as well as they’re able.”

“Do they UNDERSTAND?” Kris repeated, placing a forceful cadence on the final word.

It was at that point that Alex met his gaze with a touch of ire. “Don’t lecture me on understanding. Don’t forget who created who.” She sighed, softening a bit. “I’m sorry. It’s just that you know as well as I do that true understanding only comes in time….with….with….”

“You’re right. Of course you’re right.” Kris had relented too. “It’s probably best if they don’t watch.”

“Wait.”

Kris stopped, considering Alex expectantly.

“He’s going to be your thrall. Your responsibility. We need to care for this one. He’s so young.”

“I’m ready.”

(But I wasn’t.)

“I can do this.”

(But I couldn’t.)

“You’re sure?”

Kris nodded, returning his attention to the boy again. Matteo’s tainted blood was already singing to him. Making his senses glow.

“I’ll go back to them. Make sure they steer clear of the room for now.” Alexandria departed the room, returning to the parents just outside. Kris remained at the bedside, the sound of blood in Matteo’s body awakening him.

He bent low, fangs protruding, and began to drink from the child.

TWO WEEKS LATER…

“I killed them, Albert! They’re dead!” Matteo’s voice was shrill as it punctuated Kris’ ear through the phone line.

“Wait….slow down….”

“They’re dead! They’re fucking dead and I did it! Why did you do this to me?!” the boy wailed between hitching sobs.

“Don’t touch anything. I’ll be there in a little bit, okay? Just….just…..”

“Don’t leave me.”

“I have to hang up. I’ll be there in…”

“No, you won’t.”

The words stung. Not just how decisively correct they were, but because they were laden with so many of Kris’ sins. Kris had been neglecting the boy, shirking his responsibilities for want of pursuing another pretty fuck piece. Matty would learn. Kris had reasoned. We still have time before he needs to feed. Kris had bargained. I did it on MY own. Kris lied to himself.

And now the boy’s parents were rapidly cooling corpses in front of the television, the glow illuminating their blood in ever more garish hues.

Kris had come. But not because he wanted to. Because Alex had been irate. Had threatened to cut off all her support to Kris.

And now HIS problem, the byproduct of his laziness, immaturity, and lust was staring him in the face in the form of two dead parents still leaking vital fluids as Matteo cowered in the corner, weeping softly through fingers wound around his mouth.

“Matteo….Matty….” Kris spoke softly, as though an octave higher might shatter the child ever further. The boy didn’t reply at first, and when he did, it was barely discernible through the tears.

“I….I don’t….what do we do?”

“We need to clean this up.”

“Don’t talk about them like they’re trash that needs to get picked up! They’re PEOPLE!” Matty spat back in a rage.

Kris threw his hands up placatingly. “Okay. Okay. They’re people. But still, we can’t….”

“Fuck you, Albert!” Kris could see now that the boy was riding a wave of grief stricken rage that was unlikely to cool on its own. “You were supposed to be there for me! You were supposed to teach me what to do! I’ve tried calling you for two weeks!” He looked at his parents and then looked away again abruptly, squeezing tears through his closing eyelids. “I was so hungry. I couldn’t help it.”

“It’ll be okay….” Kris interjected lamely.

“It’ll never be okay again!” Matteo shrieked. “I’m going to be like this forever! Killing people! I….I…..” His breathing quickened, starting to hyperventilate. “I can’t breathe!”

Moving quickly to snag a chair from the nearby kitchenette, Kris placed it down near Matteo. “You need to sit, regain control.” Matteo did as he was bidden, surprisingly. “Breathe slowly. In and out.”

Kris watched Matteo as his breaths slowly returned, going from ragged and hyperbolic to easy and natural over the ensuing minutes.

“What do we do?” Matty inquired again, suddenly weary.

“We have to move the bod-...your parents.” Kris looked at them then, understanding the magnitude of the task ahead of him. Alexandria had refused to help, forcing Kris to confront the problem that was of his own making on his own. “It’s going to be hard. But if you…if WE…get caught they won’t understand what we are.”

“No.” Matty looked up at Kris, eyes reddened and bloodshot. “I mean what do we do forever?”

What do we do forever?

Now wasn’t that the quintessential question.

New York City
Now

“You’re fucking done.” Lux’s tone was like iron striking iron, merciless and effective.

“Don’t tell me I’m done! He KILLED me for fuck’s sakes! You don’t get to tell me I’m done!” Kris bit back, looking up and down the alley behind his apartment complex to ensure they were still well enough alone.

“I waited for you. I waited for you because you asked me to. But you didn’t get the job done at Leap of Faith. He’s still Xtreme champion. I waited for NOTHING, Kris. And who knows how many more people he’s hurt in the interim.”

“It’s not like I was counting on him having that massive German freakshow at ringside. It’s not like I didn’t try!” But the excuse sounded weak and petulant, even to Kris. He had begged Lux to let him strip Samael of everything he had in the XWF before she acted on him. And she was right. He HAD failed. But that didn’t mean he had no right to stay in the fight.

“While that man still lives and breathes he’s a threat to you AND Matty.”

Kris winced. She was right once more. He had selfishly jeopardized Matty to act out some petty revenge. Correction, he had jeopardized Matty AGAIN. And that was unacceptable.

“You’re right. We need to handle this NOW. For Matty’s sake.” Kris paused. “Speaking of Matty, he might be able to help us.”

“You want to bring him into this?!” Lux retorted incredulously.

“No! Not like that! Not directly. Matty’s an Archon. A…a special kind of vampire. He has certain abilities that I don’t have. And I think he might be able to track Samael.”

“So is this you scrounging for a justification to not cut you out of this?”

“No offense Lux, but I’m in this whether you want me to be or not.”

Lux sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Tell me more about what Matty can do.” 

A LITTLE LATER...

Matty sat cross legged on the couch and Kris beside him. Lux had pulled up another seat so that she too could sit in close proximity to the others.

“Matty, do you really think you can do this?” Lux asked.

“I mean, probably.” He wasn’t completely confident, shrugging his shoulders as he spoke. “But it’s not like you guys don’t know where he’s going to be. When he gets booked at the next XWF show can’t you just nab him then?”

“I’ve tried, Matty. Twice. Both times he was expecting me, and too well protected for me to get at him. I need to hit him when he’s not expecting it. When he’s alone.” Lux paused. “Can you give me that information? Can you track Samael like that?”

“I….” he started, before looking askance at Kris.

“Just do your best.” Kris spoke reassuringly.

Matty sighed. “I’ll try. But it’s hard.”

“Why don’t we start with this: Matty, how did you discover you had this ability?”

“In dreams. I started seeing random people. Like, each dream would be focused on a specific person. All people I didn’t know. And at first I thought they were just stupid dreams, you know? Stuff my brain made up. But then one time I saw a guy in a bodega buying beer. He took out his ID and I saw it, his name, his address, everything. So I Googled him, and it turned out he was a real person! Some guy from Indiana.” Matty’s voice grew enthusiastic. “So the next night I tried to focus on just this guy, to see if I could repeat it. It took me a couple nights but I eventually did it, had a whole dream about this same guy again.”

“So you have to be asleep to do it?”

“That’s the best part. Not anymore! I started trying to focus on the dream people when I was awake, and last week I finally did it. I finally started to be able to focus on individual people and see where they were. What they were doing. I tried it on Kris. I tried it on Michael Graves (and really wish I hadn’t)....”

“The less said about that, the better.”

“But it’s still hard. Sometimes it gets overwhelming. There’s, well, a lot of people out there. Obviously. Heh. And it seems like it's easier for me to find people I know than people I don’t.”

Lux sat back in her chair, musing. “Is there any danger to you in doing this, Matty?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t think they know I’m doing it.”

“Well, are you willing to give it a shot?”

Matty nodded. “Yeah. I wanna help.”


“Here guys, I’ll save you the trouble of watching the latest Korvayne promo.

EGO.




EGO.


There, I just stopped you from basting your eyes and ears with 20 minutes worth of unmitigated bilge.

Seriously though, the bitch only has one gear and its full throttle, around the corner and firmly up her own ass levels of self absorption the likes of which we haven’t seen since Madison Dyson was a heel and Kieran King royally decreed that his shit didn’t stink. By turns utterly moronic and blithely banal, Korvayne is a living plague on the artistry that is the XWF promo. Which is ironic considering she thinks of herself as an artist, a claim that would be laughable if it wasn’t so unerringly pathetic.

But you know, it's not even the ego that bothers me so much about Korvayne. It’s how she tries to mandate you fawning all over her without earning it. I mean, what has Korvayne DONE? I’ll grant her, on the surface of things beating a powerhouse like Yelena Gorgo SEEMS like a big deal. Until you remember that Yelena Gorgo is also the kind of “woefully soft in the middle” cream puff who bitched out on the XWF TWICE and can’t stop getting butthurt over people being mean to her on social media. Yelena Gorgo is all branding and production values and middling talent, so it’s really no surprise Korvayne got one over on her.

And then what did she do with that Television title immediately after she won it? Dumped it off on Bobby Bourbon. And more on that later, folks!

Then of course there is the Leap of Faith match. Now, it honestly was a pretty big fucking deal that someone as new as Korvayne even got into the match. But then of course, what did she do with it? She threw away the opportunity of a lifetime on getting even with that derelict Charlie Nickles. And if that isn’t just so quintessentially Korvayne I don’t know what is; the small mindedness of it all, the notion that she doesn’t even need to do much of anything at all to “earn” your slavish devotion. It’s all there in glorious technicolor!

And maybe it’s just because the man is on my mind so much, but I can’t help but notice the parallels between Korvayne and Samael Dyson. Check it, they’re both such sucking voids of confidence that they both need the nonstop battery of fawning flattery that comes with their Insignificants and Simp respectively. Just imagine the unquenchable, ineffable HOLE that must exist in someone to require such a steady stream of worship. And the worst part? They think that makes them Gods on Earth. But it doesn’t. All it is a symptom of virulent narcissistic personality disorder writ large, combined with an insecurity so utterly profound I’m not sure we have adequate vocabulary to describe it.

In short Korvayne, you’re not fooling anyone. You’re a perfectly mediocre woman playing the Emperor with no clothes. And if I wasn’t gay before I’m sure the sight of your pasty angular ass would have made me gay now.

Oh, but that’s not all!



Matty sat in silence, eyes dipped shut, with the lights dimmed all around him. He seemed to be at peace, despite what he was about to do.

“Alright, Matty, just try to focus on Samael Dyson.”

“I knew there would be a downside to this.” Matty grinned slightly. “I’ll do my best.”

The boy took in a deep breath and expelled it. Lux leaned in expectantly in her seat, eagerness written on her features. Kris looked on too, though his expression was of a more concerned mien.

Matty’s features tightened, suddenly looking strained. His back stood erect and his head ticced perceptibly.

“Are you okay in there, bud?”

“Yeah, it’s just really hard to lock on to one person in a sea of….well…..everyone. But…” He didn’t finish his thought, choosing instead to direct his resolve inward.

Lux and Kris watched Matty intently for a series of minutes until finally he spoke again.

“I think I’m getting close. I feel….I feel….” Matty’s lips tugged down into a deep frown. “Jesus, it feels really bad. It feels like anger, and sickness, and bitterness and….and…..it’s just all bad Kris, it’s all so bad!”

Kris shot Lux a concerned look before retraining his gaze on Matty. “You can stop whenever you want.”

“No, I want to do this. I want to help.” the boy returned solidly.

Another minute passed. A bead of sweat worried its way down Matty’s forehead, and finally he spoke again. “I’ve got him.”

“It worked?” Lux asked, unable to restrain a touch of incredulousness.

The boy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, squirming and wincing. “I can see around him…he’s….his thoughts are muddled. He’s high as shit. It’s tough for me to make sense of where he is. But….” Suddenly, Matty’s eyes snapped wide open. “Oh God, what is that?!”

“What, Matty?”

“There’s something….something with him. Something alive…sort of….and strong….and….oh no….oh no! IT SEES ME!”

Kris stood up abruptly. “Matty stop! Pull away!”

Matty replied between gritted teeth as his body tensed even further. “I’m trying! I CAN’T!”

Just then, Matty’s head threw back, and he unleashed a scream. Kris went to Matty, shaking his shoulder. Matty’s eyes rolled back in his head.

“Jesus Kris, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know!” He gave Matty another shake. “Matty! Come on buddy, snap out of it!”

And that was when Matty rose up off the couch and hung suspended in the air. Kris stumbled back in shock as his ward beheld him with the backmost whites of his eyes. Lux also snapped to her feet, instinctively going to draw a weapon and cursing when she realized she was unarmed.

“SAMAEL DYSON IS UNDER MY PROTECTION. YOU WILL NOT INTERVENE.”

The voice that issued forth wasn’t even remotely close to Matty’s. It had an echoed cadence, booming and authoritative. And if you listened carefully enough, hidden in the pockets between words, were a gaggle of other voices bleating what sounded like nonsense.

Kris looked to Lux, face ashen. Lux took the fore and spoke for both of them. “Who are we speaking with?”

“I AM THE ONE WHO INHABITS THE IMPOSSIBLE ANGLES. I AM NOT OF THE STARS BUT BEHIND THEM. I AM ALL THAT EVER WAS.”

“That doesn’t really narrow it down.”

“SILENCE YOUR IMPETUOUS MOUTH!”

Lux grimaced, not used to being cowed but understanding that prudence was needed here. “The boy you’re inhabiting. It wasn’t his fault. We asked him to look in on Samael.”

“WHY?”

“Because Samael hurt me. And hurt one of Lux’s friends. Amongst many others. Because he’s dangerous.” Kris spoke.

“THE MORTAL KNOWN AS SAMAEL DYSON IS NECESSARY. YOU WILL INTERVENE NO LONGER.”

“What if I put a bullet between his eyes?” Prudence had its limits.

“Lux!”

“No, Kris. I’ve dealt with assholes like this my entire life. They built a future of ruin. One that I’ve been fighting my entire life to stop.” Lux stood up straight. “You don’t frighten me, demon.”

Suddenly, a gout of blood sprayed through Matty’s lips. He gasped and his chest hitched as though struck.

“Lux, this thing has Matty!” Kris shouted.

But Lux tuned him out. “Answer me. Which one of the faceless horrors I’ve been fighting my whole life are you?”

“I HAVE NO NEED OF A NAME. I AM BEYOND TIME.”

“Yeah? Then why do you need a broken child like Samael Dyson to enact your plans? It’s always the same. Always some trumped up wannabe God who just so happens to need a human to do its dirty work for all its supposed vaunted power.” Lux sneered.

Matty spat up more blood, his head knocking backwards.

“Stop Lux, stop it now!” Kris turned to Matty and the thing inhabiting him. “We’ll lay off Samael, okay? We’ll stop. Just please….please don’t hurt him anymore!” 

“I CAN BREAK THIS ONE. I CAN SHOW YOU I AM NOT TO BE TRIFLED WITH.”

Kris sunk to his knees. “If you’re going to break anyone, take me! Please, God, please don’t do this!”

The beast stopped speaking, and then, Matty dropped back down onto the couch. His eyes rolled forward again, and he began coughing and wheezing. Kris joined him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Matty?!”

“Yeah….it’s me.” Matty let out another battery of coughs. “What the hell was that?”

“Whatever it was, it’s bound to Samael Dyson.” Lux sat back down, looking exhausted. “And it makes this so, so much worse….”

But Kris’ mind wasn’t on that at all. Because all he could consider was how he just put Matty in danger once again. Decades in, so it goes.


“No, no, no. That’s not all.

Because we haven’t even touched your dalliance with Bobby Bourbon, have we?

“Oh oh, but I’m the victim!” I can hear you plaintively moan from here. And you know what, you were. Congrats on your victimhood. Congrats on getting roughed up by that sweaty no account manlet whose time has waaaaay passed him by.

But also, congrats on how you leapt on that whole shabang to expose your belly to the world.

I mean, how the hell do we go from you arrogantly ordering the trillionaires to declare you the Television Champion on the official XWF website….



….to rolling the fuck over for Bobby Bourbon and dropping aforementioned title literally days later? HOW DOES THAT HAPPEN?

Well, it happens when you’re an abject coward, Korvayne. It happens when you realize that somebody (Bobby Bourbon of all people) has your number and there is not a goddamn thing you can do about it.

It happens when you throw in the fucking towel before the opening bell has even rung, as evidenced by that halfassed promo you cut in the days leading up to Warfare. Because suddenly this bitch who literally couldn’t shut her mouth if her life depended on it was making vague allusions to cutting shoots without actually, ya know, CUTTING SHOOTS. And it’s not like she didn’t have the material! It’s not like Bobby didn’t just hand her her ass in a Gucci bag. It’s not like she didn’t have a wellspring of anger and resentment to draw on! Oh…oh….except it wasn’t anger and resentment was it? My bad.

It was just pants pissing borderline catatonic levels of TERROR.

How tragic.

And you know what? It says a lot about your gumption, Korvayne. Because if somebody had humiliated me like that, I would have fought back fist, tooth and nail to right that wrong. Just like I’m fighting back against Samael Dyson now. But you and me? We’re worlds apart on that. Because you didn’t have the SPINE to stand up for yourself against Bobby. You just wanted him off of you, right? You just wanted him to leave you alone. So you kowtowed to the bully like a total subserviant, metaphorically (or maybe even literally, who knows) voiding your bowels and trying to appear as submissive as possible. I’m struggling to think of a weaker display I’ve witnessed since coming to the XWF and all I can recall is Isaiah King accepting a tag team championship handout from SEB after getting his ass beat. At least Isaiah has that body going for him though. Heh.

So in the end, what are we left with?

We’re left with a loud mouthed, chronically insecure, attention whoring, praise craving, generic mean girl who is incapable of so much as standing up for herself against Bobby Bourbon, yet will blow a 24/7 briefcase opportunity on getting back at Charlie Nickles. Way to pick your spot, girly. 

Now lets talk the facts of the matter. I’m 10 and 3, Korvayne. I’ve been pinned ONCE. I’ve beaten TWO former Universal Champions in Dickie Watson and Charlie Nickles. Your major accomplishments are beating consummate crybaby and failed cultist Yelena Gorgo and getting your shit pushed in by Bobby Bourbon. Tell a betting man why they should roll the dice on you over me?

You can’t, can you?

It’s fine. Most people can’t.

But suffice it to say, this train doesn’t stop at your station. My aims here are more than just putting a stop to Samael Dyson. I intend to build a career here in the XWF, build a LEGACY that guarantees a future for myself and Matty. And considering I don’t age, I intend to be doing this for a very long time. You are but an anthill on this path, a footnote in this story.

This Warfare, your immense ego only gets you so far. In fact, it gets you staring up at the lights as my hand is raised in victory YET AGAIN. Eleven wins. A future secured against mediocrity.

It’s okay though, Korvayne. I hear John Blade and company are getting sick of feasting on their own. The undercard is looking for a powerful personality who’s all bluster and no bite. I’m sure you’ll fit right in. 

As for the rest of the XWF? The vampire king is putting you on notice. Bryce, you have more than just your wayward lover with a shiny new briefcase to worry about.

Kristoffer Arroyo is here. And he is FOREVER.