Post by hardcorehammer24 on Feb 6, 2022 18:03:18 GMT -5
Flashback: 21 May, 2018-
The last few weeks had been a haze to Jakie Wentzel. Lying in a bare hospital bed, he had hovered between both the pitch black death sleep and a blurry wakefulness. What he actually could remember was minimal: prepping for the match of his life against Rob Riot, anticipating the satisfaction of being one step closer to a championship title, and losing by cheap technicalities. Whispers from visitors telling him that a loss to Riot was not the end of the world…he would recover to fight another day. Indeed, many had fallen to the legendary co-founder of Riot Star Wrestling before, and had still maintained a successful career in the ring, however the defeat had been a crippling blow to Jakie’s morale. His one shot at winning the World Championship belt had slipped through his fingers despite everything he had suffered through. All he had lost in the months leading up to the event had been lost in vain. And what did he have to show for it? A one stop visit to the intensive care unit and useless sympathy.
Masquerade was a distant memory, clouded by a severe beating and a body that felt to be on fire. Even the drugs flowing through his system could not stop the pain he felt. All around him was a predictable daily regiment often found in a recovery unit…monotonous but comfortable. The strict regimentalism of the hospital staff reminded Jakie of life in Intercourse in the years before being reduced to ash and blood. A time before he had been forced into a life of professional torture and agony for the entertainment of the English majority in this country.
Jakie did not receive many visitors, at least not from anyone that mattered all that much to him. Mary Zucker came to visit at least once a day, a dear friend in a world of loneliness. Her release from the clutches of the Von Krauss family had offered him at least some relief from the darkness he endured. He should have listened to her...she had begged him to leave the world of wrestling from the very first day of her return. Driven by pride and his competitive nature, he had told her that it was too late for him to ever go back to the farming life; Bishop Weaver needed him for the Holy endgame, the purge of evil corrupting the entire pro wrestling world. Mary was simply unwilling to support his mission.
‘Forget that Bishop Weaver!’ she had yelled back. ‘He may have saved my life, but only to get to you, Jakieboy. It was always about messing around in your head and doing his dirty work.’ Jakie had not known that during his match, Weaver had indeed left him alone, hopping a flight to who knows where when he had needed the former bishop’s guidance the most. Despite everything, it was Mary who had stayed by his side when things had gone south.
Mary, however, had not been the only frequent visitor to Jakie’s hospital room either. In the dark evenings, Jakie could sometimes make out a sinister shape watching him from the shadows. The spectre never spoke, but seemed to be spying on him, waiting for the right moment to strike. And yet the figure gradually became less menacing than before as days turned to weeks. His menacing presence had weakened, as if merely a pawn in a far more devious game. Something reeked of his employer’s schemes. If not Armand Von Krauss, then one of the other power-hungry demons from inside RSW looking to satisfy their bloodlust. Jakie had many times fallen into their traps, but he insisted that this time would be different. No more would he serve the darkness. The time for his redemption was near.
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It was the night before his hospital discharge that Jakie Wentzel could no longer be silent. The time to address his nightly visitor had arrived. He waited in silence until long after the staff had turned in for the night. As expected, Jakie saw long dark shadows cast from the entrance to his room.
“I can feel yah near, shadow man, speak naw if yah haff something tah say.”
The specter responded, still obscured and unmoving from the advantage point of secrecy.
“I was afraid you hadn’t noticed my influence. I have kept my identity unknown for some time now. I assure you that my anonymity must remain to ensure the safety of us both. The walls have ears and eyes all around, and the time for redemption draws close.”
“Well, that may be, my brother, but I want no part off this scheming. I haff lost too much already, been fooled and deceived by far too many off the devil’s agents, ant haff reached tha end off this dark path…”
“Indeed, a new path does calls for you. Many in my new order have proven to be ineffective in achieving our mission, but you may still be of use to Us. I had hoped to use your talent to climb to the top of the ranks, but your shameful loss to Robert Riot in the tournament was a major blow to the plan. Being a man of mercy, I wish to grant you a one time only offer. I am sure Bishop Weaver told you about his promise to serve Us?”
The name cut through him like a blade through flesh. The Bishop had not included Jakie in his personal business and trusted him with his life. Another deceit among many; how far did Heinrich Weaver’s conspiring reach? What promises did he make with men of power? He shook his head faintly.
“Nah, he was apparently a man off many secrets. He ran off like a coward when I blew tha title shot, onst.”
“…Nor did he speak of my promise to ensure your safety?”
“Yer promises lie with Heinrich, not with I, naw. I do not need yer safety or yer mercy. Why do yah hide in tha shadows, unless you haff just as much tah hide as tha bishop?”
“Do not misjudge me, Mr. Wentzel. I am a man of great means, and if you need a break from the ring, fine. Join the ranks of my order, and I can make all your problems go away. All I will ask of you at this time is that you come to me when I call for you.”
The prospect of freedom enthralled Jakie. He could finally give Mary Zucker the life he had imagined…a new life of retirement. The true work of a life devoted to God could begin.
“Suppose I say yes, naw. How will I know yer call when I don’t even know you?”
“I assure you, when the time comes you will know me. The Order is weak, my empire small in comparison to others in the world of wrestling. But give it time…That’s the majestic thing about empires…they rebuild from among the ashes of their fallen predecessors, Jakie...”
The last few weeks had been a haze to Jakie Wentzel. Lying in a bare hospital bed, he had hovered between both the pitch black death sleep and a blurry wakefulness. What he actually could remember was minimal: prepping for the match of his life against Rob Riot, anticipating the satisfaction of being one step closer to a championship title, and losing by cheap technicalities. Whispers from visitors telling him that a loss to Riot was not the end of the world…he would recover to fight another day. Indeed, many had fallen to the legendary co-founder of Riot Star Wrestling before, and had still maintained a successful career in the ring, however the defeat had been a crippling blow to Jakie’s morale. His one shot at winning the World Championship belt had slipped through his fingers despite everything he had suffered through. All he had lost in the months leading up to the event had been lost in vain. And what did he have to show for it? A one stop visit to the intensive care unit and useless sympathy.
Masquerade was a distant memory, clouded by a severe beating and a body that felt to be on fire. Even the drugs flowing through his system could not stop the pain he felt. All around him was a predictable daily regiment often found in a recovery unit…monotonous but comfortable. The strict regimentalism of the hospital staff reminded Jakie of life in Intercourse in the years before being reduced to ash and blood. A time before he had been forced into a life of professional torture and agony for the entertainment of the English majority in this country.
Jakie did not receive many visitors, at least not from anyone that mattered all that much to him. Mary Zucker came to visit at least once a day, a dear friend in a world of loneliness. Her release from the clutches of the Von Krauss family had offered him at least some relief from the darkness he endured. He should have listened to her...she had begged him to leave the world of wrestling from the very first day of her return. Driven by pride and his competitive nature, he had told her that it was too late for him to ever go back to the farming life; Bishop Weaver needed him for the Holy endgame, the purge of evil corrupting the entire pro wrestling world. Mary was simply unwilling to support his mission.
‘Forget that Bishop Weaver!’ she had yelled back. ‘He may have saved my life, but only to get to you, Jakieboy. It was always about messing around in your head and doing his dirty work.’ Jakie had not known that during his match, Weaver had indeed left him alone, hopping a flight to who knows where when he had needed the former bishop’s guidance the most. Despite everything, it was Mary who had stayed by his side when things had gone south.
Mary, however, had not been the only frequent visitor to Jakie’s hospital room either. In the dark evenings, Jakie could sometimes make out a sinister shape watching him from the shadows. The spectre never spoke, but seemed to be spying on him, waiting for the right moment to strike. And yet the figure gradually became less menacing than before as days turned to weeks. His menacing presence had weakened, as if merely a pawn in a far more devious game. Something reeked of his employer’s schemes. If not Armand Von Krauss, then one of the other power-hungry demons from inside RSW looking to satisfy their bloodlust. Jakie had many times fallen into their traps, but he insisted that this time would be different. No more would he serve the darkness. The time for his redemption was near.
-----------------------------------------------
It was the night before his hospital discharge that Jakie Wentzel could no longer be silent. The time to address his nightly visitor had arrived. He waited in silence until long after the staff had turned in for the night. As expected, Jakie saw long dark shadows cast from the entrance to his room.
“I can feel yah near, shadow man, speak naw if yah haff something tah say.”
The specter responded, still obscured and unmoving from the advantage point of secrecy.
“I was afraid you hadn’t noticed my influence. I have kept my identity unknown for some time now. I assure you that my anonymity must remain to ensure the safety of us both. The walls have ears and eyes all around, and the time for redemption draws close.”
“Well, that may be, my brother, but I want no part off this scheming. I haff lost too much already, been fooled and deceived by far too many off the devil’s agents, ant haff reached tha end off this dark path…”
“Indeed, a new path does calls for you. Many in my new order have proven to be ineffective in achieving our mission, but you may still be of use to Us. I had hoped to use your talent to climb to the top of the ranks, but your shameful loss to Robert Riot in the tournament was a major blow to the plan. Being a man of mercy, I wish to grant you a one time only offer. I am sure Bishop Weaver told you about his promise to serve Us?”
The name cut through him like a blade through flesh. The Bishop had not included Jakie in his personal business and trusted him with his life. Another deceit among many; how far did Heinrich Weaver’s conspiring reach? What promises did he make with men of power? He shook his head faintly.
“Nah, he was apparently a man off many secrets. He ran off like a coward when I blew tha title shot, onst.”
“…Nor did he speak of my promise to ensure your safety?”
“Yer promises lie with Heinrich, not with I, naw. I do not need yer safety or yer mercy. Why do yah hide in tha shadows, unless you haff just as much tah hide as tha bishop?”
“Do not misjudge me, Mr. Wentzel. I am a man of great means, and if you need a break from the ring, fine. Join the ranks of my order, and I can make all your problems go away. All I will ask of you at this time is that you come to me when I call for you.”
The prospect of freedom enthralled Jakie. He could finally give Mary Zucker the life he had imagined…a new life of retirement. The true work of a life devoted to God could begin.
“Suppose I say yes, naw. How will I know yer call when I don’t even know you?”
“I assure you, when the time comes you will know me. The Order is weak, my empire small in comparison to others in the world of wrestling. But give it time…That’s the majestic thing about empires…they rebuild from among the ashes of their fallen predecessors, Jakie...”