New York City, New York

Ah, this city…the smog and pollution…breathing it in through my nostrils lets me know that I am right when it comes to the way I view the world, the way I urge Sir James Evans to view it and its moronic inhabitants. They ruin everything. Everything they touch seems to turn to shit. James has learned this. Well, at least I hope that he has during his many attempts to BLEND IN and be like the lot of them.

It made me sick to see him to do so. The fact that he even let such an idea slip into this brain of ours made me want to vomit. He hates it even if it takes him awhile to admit it. That is why he has me. I am here to guide him and nurture him. Kismet… THAT BITCH … is trying to ruin everything but we shall see how far she gets in doing that. Especially when I am in the driver seat.

Just as I am right now, my hands on the wheel and my foot on the gas, I am in control. James tries to keep me cooped up and it is driving me…well us…insane, hahaha. Now that James is asleep, I doubt he will have any issue with me using the body to go around and have my kicks, satisfy my needs. Man, if only Amy Chastaine lived in New York, I’d pay her visit and have my way with her. It wouldn’t even matter if she was willing or not. I am and that’s all that matters. I want to have some fun. I need to have some fun. And what do I mean by fun? Oh I mean to hurt someone in some way, shape, or form. So many of these morons these days love to go out and drink or smoke. No, not me. Poor James did it but he did it to shut me up. He did it to fight the urges to do what he truly wants to do.

No matter. I am here now and I know that sooner rather than later, little James will come around and give into his true nature. He and I will be one finally. But until then, I will have to take over from time to time. Works for me. With the way James is right now, all torn and shit, he would more than likely slow me down and I can’t have that. I can’t be cock blocked when I am about to ravage some poor defenseless street walker and by ravage I mean…kill. Ooohh…just thinking about it gets me off.

Ah, Times Square…such a vast disappointment. All of these peons looking around at the social media aspect of this once beautiful city, all of the celebrity faces that James and I absolutely loathe. No wonder it is so easy to find pussy. When you’re famous, women will give up their children to blow you. Unless you’re Ace Marshall of course. Then you’ll give up your child just to be famous.

Can we say Daddy of the year?

Ah yes, I know what James is thinking. We view the world the same way. We think the same way. I can’t wait to see what he does to that fucking buffoon. But enough about Ace and James. I want to have some fun. So what do I want to do first? Hmmm, let’s see…I’ll go for a run. It gets the blood flowing. I take another look up at the big screen before feeling my legs moving, gaining speed with each step growing into more of a stride. I am sure I look funny to anyone who pays attention as I am wearing all black with the hood of jacket pulled over my head, allowing it to cover the majority of my face. But this is New York Abel, I remind myself, therefore nobody is paying one bit of fucking attention.

Knowing this causes my grin to grow.

I pick up the pace when I see a couple walking together, hand in hand. I know that James would hate seeing this just as much as I do. I feel like he and I are of the same mind when it comes to women. Fucking them is the only best course of action. If you have to play the game in order to do so then so be it, but don’t play too long because I am pretty sure James learned with that Katelyn cunt that there is no pussy worth playing games for.

But there are some games that I like…

Such as running up behind an unsuspecting person and clubbing him in the back of the head. The male drops to one knee after I put almost the full of force of my weight into the elbow. Before he can get up, I shove my foot into the side of his face. His lady goes to scream but I backhand, putting all of my weight into it. I watch as she spins around and collides with the concrete wall beside of her. Her boy toy grabs me and tries to wrestle with me, which I can’t help but laugh at before driving me into his groin. He drops again, but I hold him up a little, my gloved hands…smart I know…gripping his shirt collar. I then drive my knee into his ribs once, twice, three times for good measure. I take a moment to smile at my handiwork. I look over and I see a few cops running towards me, hands on their guns I presume. They are yelling at me to stop as I put my feet to pavement and run off into the night, laughing it up and enjoying just how much damn fun that was.

I continue to run, not really looking to slow down since I am sure that the cops will be looking for me. I know that I will have to think fast about where I need to go. I could go back home but I am not quite ready for that. That doesn’t seem as fun. Hmmm…I wonder if Katelyn is home. Ooohhh…I like that idea. I stick to the shadows as much as possible as I make my way through this slum of a city, harassing a few people here and there, mainly the homeless as well as a prostitute I plan on coming to visit later on.

I run until I reach Katelyn’s apartment. I keep my hood up, and I take a few moments to sit on the front steps of the complex to catch my breath. And I need to wait for someone to step outside of the building so I can slip inside. I sit there, clapping my hands together, enjoying the moment, and feeling the rush of life. I don’t know why James doesn’t embrace this way of life. It is much more fun. Ah, no matter. As I said, he will come around. And then the door opens, I quickly stand up as a gorgeous blonde walks by me. I get the impulse to bend her over the steps before passionately sodomizing her but I don’t. I slip inside of the building and I recount my steps, remembering where Katelyn’s apartment is. I’ve been here before with James so I tell myself it shouldn’t be that difficult. I go up some steps then come to her door. I continue to walk by it however, keeping my head low with the hood pulled over my face, because I noticed the security cameras on the way in. They have some on every floor. I stand in a corner and I watch as the camera moves slowly, gathering up information on the floor, and I begin to time it. I watch it a few times before picking up its pattern and then I spring into action, quickly but quietly picking the lock. I glance at the camera out of the corner of my eye and see that it is coming towards me again so I stop what I’m doing and head back down to the corner, letting the camera do its thing once again.

I watch as it turns away from me, away from Katelyn’s door, and then I sprint down the hall to finish what I started. I easy the door open then pull out the little magnet that James picked up years ago. It comes in the shape of a pen so it is easy to use. I use it to pull the chain back before easing the door open the rest of the way and slowly, quietly closing it behind me just as the camera scans by. Once inside, I feel a grin spread across my face…well, James’ face. I then take a deep breath before tip toeing down the hallway, looking at all of the pictures hanging on the walls. I see Katelyn’s little rack of accomplishments of her time in the IWC. And then I see a few photos of Katelyn, James’ daughters, and some guy that Katelyn is fucking.

Lucky bastard.

Katelyn is sexy but she’s no Amy Chastaine, heh, heh…

And then I see a picture of James’ daughters, Keira and Kelly. I see their smiling faces but in between them, I see the face of a man. Not Katelyn’s boy toy. Not James. I see the face of Ace Marshall. I stare at it…NO…I fucking glare at it, grinding the teeth James and I share, as I lift the picture off of the wall. I feel the anger rising in this vessel as I take the opposite fist and punch the picture, cracking the glass before hanging it back on the wall. I then turn and head down the hallway a little more before coming to a door. It is cracked a little and I can see Katelyn as she sleeps. I grab hold of the door and push it ever so gently to make sure it doesn’t make any noise. Once inside of the room, I stand above her, the once love of James’ life. I lean my head down and slowly sniff her, gliding the nose from her ankle up her silky smooth thigh. I stop at her vagina and I hover above it. I feel its warmth radiating on my face. The urge to have my way with her begins to jitter all through my body. I want to work my fingers and tongue before ramming my throbbing cock inside of her, wet or not. I bet James would love the way she feels especially when she is crying and afraid, our hand over her mouth to muffle her screams.

I stand up quickly as her body moves. She then lays on her side, the covers drawing up a little bit. I see her back and her ass. She is wearing black see through panties. Oh she shouldn’t have…I remove James’ phone and take a quick souvenir. I then slowly back out of the room, pulling the door back to where it was before looking at the other room where the children sleep. I stare at them. I see the odd one out, Mason’s child. I look at her with disgust before looking down at Keira and Kelly. Staring at them, I remember how they make James soft, how he gushes over them and loves them. Just the very thought makes me sick. It is things like these…these children that can really hurt James in so many ways. They can hinder him. Just a few days ago, he took them out for dinner and ice cream. He was all nice and sweet towards them, even Katelyn, despite the fact that she stabbed him in the back years ago. It would be so easy, I chuckle at the thought. It’d be so easy to just remove them out of James’ life permanently. I look over and see one of Kelly’s pillows is resting in the floor. I lean down and pick it up, before looking Kelly. Sweet and innocent, so easy to do…

I grip the pillow on both sides as I slowly step towards her bed until I am next to her bed, hovering above her. I hold the pillow in front of my chest, above her head as I remind myself of how easy it would be to…

I wake up, in a panic. The vision of someone placing a pillow over my daughter’s face repeats over and over in my mind as I get out of bed, kicking the covers out of the way as I stomp towards my phone. I grab it, still panicking, not knowing what to think. I dial Katelyn and wait for her to answer. While I wait, I take a few deep breaths, telling myself that everything is okay, that nothing is wrong, and then Katelyn answers, “Hello?”

I sigh, “Hey, Katelyn, how are you?”

She groans, “I’m good, James. Are you okay?”

“I think so. How are the girls? Is Kelly okay?”

I hear her move around, still groaning, letting me know that I have already agitated her, “They are fine, James. They are still passed out. Seriously…what is this about? Please tell me you’re not on drugs again. If you are, you will not see our daughters anymore. I told you that.”

I hear Kismet chime in as she tells me to calm down and just tell her you had a nightmare. Tell her that you were just worried afterwards. That is all there is to it. Nothing more, nothing less. Before I go to reply, Abel pipes up as well, telling me that I need to set Katelyn straight and that she needs to stop with the threats and all of that other bullshit. Tell her if she doesn’t then she will be sorry. I close my eyes and take in a deep breath, when I hear, “James…are you there?”

I snap out of it, shaking my head as if I am shaking away the voices of Abel and Kismet, “Yeah I’m here. Look, I’m sorry. I had one of those dreams where everything seems real. It just freaked me out. I apologize. I didn’t mean to wake you if I did. I’m glad everyone’s alright.”

“Wait…so, you had a nightmare then you called me asking if we were okay? What was this nightmare about, James, because you’re really starting to freak me out here, if I’m just being honest. Are you sure you’re not on drugs?”

Any panic or fear washes away when she asks me yet again if I am on drugs. I grip the phone tightly, squeezing it, feeling like I could fucking break it in between my fingers. Abel whispers to me, telling me to tell her to go fuck herself. Or to call up Ace so she can shut herself up by blowing him…just like the old days.

I take the phone from my ear, covering it up as I look around and find Abel pacing around in my room. He looks at me as I glare back at him, “Shut the fuck up, Abel. Now is not the time for your bullshit.”

I bring the phone back up to my ear and respond, trying not to seem irritated, “No, Katelyn, I am not on drugs. I’ve been clean for awhile. I’m not going back on any of that shit so please…just please stop asking me that. I’d really appreciate it.”

“Well, James it’s hard not to ask sometimes. You go off on your tangents and ramblings not only on Twitter but on TV. And then you act completely different. I never know what’s going on with you. I have to take the safety of my children…our children into consideration. So you can’t really blame me for asking.”

“I wouldn’t want anything to happen to them either. Their safety is very important to me. You should know that by now. I care for them. I care for them more than I can ever put into words, Katelyn. So, once again, I’m sorry I called you concerned. It wasn’t for nothing. It had nothing to do with drugs. It had to do with you. It had to do with them. I needed to know you were all safe.”

There is a silence on her end for a few moments, “Katelyn?”

“Yeah sorry, James. Look, I know I shouldn’t give you shit, especially after saying that you surprise me. The girls loved being with you the other night. I couldn’t get Kelly or Keira to stop talking about it. It was annoyingly adorable in all honesty.”

Hearing this calms my anger and brings a smile to my face. I look over and I see Kismet sitting cross legged on the floor. She and I lock eyes, sharing a smile. I then look up at Abel, just as Kismet does, and I can see him as he looks at me in disgust before shaking his head. I tell myself not to pay any attention to Abel, “That’s very comforting to hear, Katelyn. I needed that actually. I’d love to have them stay the night sometime soon if you’re okay with that.”

“I don’t see a problem with it. Just don’t let them hear you talking bad about their Uncle Ace….”

The calm fades quickly, transforming back into anger as soon as she utters his fucking name. It takes all that I have not to tell her to shut the fuck up. To never mention his name again “I wouldn’t dream of it. Besides, we’ve already had this discussion. Whatever happens between Ace and I, stays between us. Our daughters have nothing to do with it.”

“But in a way…they do. They love you both so much. I try to keep them from seeing you guys fighting.”

“Yeah, that is probably best. He and I are going to fight. It’s just the nature of the beast, I’m afraid. You know what this sport is like.”

“Yes I do. I just hate that is has to be like this.”

I go to reply but I stop myself, wishing I had words, but I don’t. I have no issue with beating the hell out of Ace on a weekly basis. He has never had any issue in treating me like the shit on his shoe whenever the opportunity presented itself. He and I…we aren’t good people. He pretends to be. I am only good when it comes to my children. The rest of time, I throw care and caution to the wind. When I see Ace, I see a target and I do all that I can to make him hurt, to make him suffer. That will not change until the SCW World Championship is mine, “Well, I don’t really know what to say to that, Katelyn. But I just wanted to call and check in with you guys. Like I said…I’m glad all of you are safe and sound. We will talk soon. Tell the girls that I love them.”

There’s a pause on her end. I picture her shaking her head before she says, “Oh…okay, will do. Take care of yourself, James.”

I don’t respond. I just hit END and toss the phone to the side. I let out a sigh of relief and shake my head before stepping out of the bedroom. I shake my head again, trying to get over the fact Katelyn even mentioned Ace and I fighting. I begin to tell myself but Abel finishes it for me, “She knows, James. She knows how you feel about Ace. She just ignores it because she doesn’t give a fuck about you. She is just like Ace. Nothing more than a goddamn liar.”

I turn and lock eyes with Abel, “And what do you know? Katelyn is alright. She is not what you say she is. She is the mother of my children and she is damn good at that. I know that. Everyone knows that.”

Abel rolls his eyes, “You’re really doing this right now?”

I look at him, confused, “Doing what?”

Kismet steps into view, “Abel…Stop…”

Abel hisses at her, “YOU!!! SHUT UP!!!” He then looks back at me, “You’re trying to justify everything. You know what Katelyn did to you. You know exactly what she did to you, yet you do nothing about it. All of this…I’ve changed bullshit. She is still the same person she has always been. The same with that fucker Ace. They claim they’ve changed, but they just got over you because they simply never cared.”

I fire back, “You don’t know shit, Abel. Katelyn cares for me. She even loved me once.”

Abel laughs, “Oh did she? Then why was she sucking Ace’s dick behind your back?”

I go to speak, but I can’t. I just fold, dropping to my knees, burying my face into my hands, trying to weep but finding myself unable to do. This only makes things worse. I feel hands place down on my shoulders and the sound of a soft voice, Kismet’s voice, “Its okay, James. Don’t listen to him. You just think about your girls…Just think about your daughters.”

I nod my head, but Abel responds, “Oh yeah, tell him to think about those Ace loving little shits,” I look up and glare at him, fuming now as Abel continues, “You heard me, James. Those little girls, your daughters…they are turning you into a fairy. You know what you want to be. You know what you need to be. Do I need to let Kismet start telling you the same shit so you’ll believe me or are you going to do it on your own?”

I bolt up from the floor, grabbing Abel by the neck, slamming him against the wall,“ I will fucking end you, Abel. I can and I will. You do not…DO NOT…utter a single fucking word about my children again. I got rid of my father and my grandmother. I can do the same to you.”

Abel chuckles, “That is what I’m talking about. Get angry. Get violent. Let it out James. That is all you need to do. Share it with us, James.”

“Oh so you think the violence, the rage, the anger inside of me…you think it’s a gift?”

He nods, “That is exactly what it is, James. You know it deep in your bones, no matter how hard you try to fight it.”

I shove him once more into the wall, step back and turn away from him. I look up at Kismet, my guardian angel, the one who truly wants what is best for me, “Is he right? Tell me the truth, Kismet. You’re my destiny, remember? If that is true, please just tell me the truth.”

Kismet steps forward, “James, you don’t have to listen to him. You can be successful without him,” She speaks and I wait for Abel to say something but he doesn’t. I turn to look around, only to find that Abel is no longer around. It is just Kismet and I. I feel her fingers touch my face, turning my head so our eyes lock, “I love you, James. I want you to know that. I always have.”

I smile before asking, “Why do you say that now?”

She smiles back, “I was young and foolish, James. Now that I know I am always apart of you…I can feel it.”

I pull her hands away from my face and step back, keeping my eyes with hers as I say, “But…but you’re not real…”

She steps forward, “I’m real to you, aren’t I?”

I nod my head, “Yes…more than anything…”

She pulls me back in, bringing me closer, as her lips meet mine. Through our warm embrace, nothing else matters. Everything else goes away, while this moment feels perfect.

- - - - - - - - - - -


New York City, New York

I finish packing my bags after deciding to go get my girls for a dinner and a little evening out in the Big Apple. I had spent the better part of an hour arguing with David Miller over Twitter because I enjoy fucking with the would be Assassin. He seems to think his opinion counts, like what he has truly has merit. Reminds of someone else I know. Someone I will be facing in about a month on the biggest stage. Ace Marshall, I smirk as I think about him and me dancing at Rise to Greatness, letting the fists fly. So far, I have been dishing out the punishment on the SCW World Champion. I know that sooner or later, Ace will come at me and manage to get the upper hand. He can get me verbally. Of that I won’t deny. He has much more wit when it comes to verbal beat downs. As it has been seen on television, I enjoy letting my skills talk for me. In that department, I’ve had Ace’s number thus far.

If the Drachewych seed pays attention to Twitter she will see that I have challenged David Miller to a match. Hopefully she books it so I can destroy him once and for all. Many see him, including Miller himself, as nothing more than a “low card” guy. I see him as much more. He is like my opponent tomorrow night in Texas. Like Rachel Foxx, Miller has gone soft. Miller used to be a killer inside of the ring and I feel that he’d be an excellent test when it comes to stepping in between the ropes. He is no low-card guy. He can be a force to be reckoned with and I know it, even if he doesn’t. I want to be in the ring with killers such as Miller so I can constantly test myself and keep myself battle ready. I don’t want to be like Ace and tire myself out. He has been going nonstop since December and it is truly catching up to him. I can see it every single time he goes out to the ring. I saw it more last week when he dropped the World Television Championship to my good friend Shilo Valiant. That is a reason why I stayed in the back. I wanted to see if Ace would crumble or not. I needed to see it from the eagle eye’s view, watching him fail from afar, on his own.

I do need have plans for my time in Texas. I am going to destroy Rachel Foxx in the middle of the ring, unless it turns into another cluster-fuck like it did last week between her and Red Rayne. It still makes me sick to see her showing her so called “loyalty” to the boss. I tell myself that I will deal with her tomorrow before leaving my apartment. I decide to walk towards Katelyn’s place. It’s a nice evening out and I don’t really get to enjoy the city, not that there is anything really worth enjoying. Along the way, I get a sudden feeling of Déjà vu, like I have gone this route before. It puzzles me but I just tell myself that I have walked this city before, that I have taken this route to Katelyn’s place before.

Its just coincidence, I say. I shrug it off as I turn a corner, walking by an entire row of newspaper stands. One of the workers even calls out to me, “Hey bro! Wanna be a paper?”

I want to tell him to fuck off, but I want to at least seem to be in a good mood when I see my girls, so I put on a smile, “Anything happening in the Big Apple recently? Terrorist attacks, muggings…something actually positive?”

The worker, a big burly Italian looking male with a cigar hanging out of his mouth, chuckles, “It’s New York. All kinds of shit is happening. Like the big story today is a couple got attacked the other night by some guy running. Put the boyfriend in the hospital. The girlfriend got knocked out after this running motherfucker backhanded her.”

The feeling of Déjà vu returns as I step closer, drawn into his story, “Did the cops stop this guy? Were there any witnesses?”

He nods, “Cops started paying attention after awhile I guess so they started to run towards the guy. I am sure they took their time because…it’s the fucking cops,” We share a laugh, “As far as witnesses, nobody has anything yet. I doubt they will because hey, like I said…”

I say it for him, “Its New York.”

He points at him and grins, “You got it. So you wanna buy a paper?”

I shrug, “Sure why not…” I hand him some money. He thanks me and I nod before heading on my way. As I reach Katelyn’s apartment, shrugging off the feeling of Déjà vu becomes a lot more complicated. I take a seat on the front steps of her complex. While looking at the paper, the front page story of the attacker, I recall the nightmare I had the other night. Someone attacked a couple then they came here and broke into Katelyn’s apartment. I quickly shake my head, telling myself to forget about it.

Its only coincidence, James...Remember that…

It’s not long before I go inside and find myself at Katelyn’s apartment. I knock on the door and I hear the pitter patter of little feet, along with some cheerful screaming and giggling. The door opens and Katelyn is standing there with our daughters. Kelly and Keira rush over, hooking onto my legs.

Keira says, “Daddy I missed you…”

Kelly follows that up with, “I missed you more Daddy…”

Keira replies, “Mom that’s not true is it?”

Katelyn and I look at one another, share a smile as we shake our heads before she says, “Girls, you both missed your daddy. There’s no reason for you two to be fighting about that. He missed you both the same, right?” She asks, looking at me for a response.

I nod my head, “Absolutely. I love you both so very much. You’re both my favorites. I love you more than anyone else in the whole wide world…”

Abel’s voice returns, whispering, “You are such a pussy…”

Kelly’s voice brings me back to reality, “What about Mommy? Do you love her, Daddy?”

Abel says, “Yeah, James…how about it? Do you love their whore of a mother? Their backstabber of a fucking mother…”

Before I can respond, Katelyn does for me, “Yes. Daddy loves Mommy but it’s a different kind of love.”

Keira asks, “What kind then?”

I chime in, “We will tell you girls when you get older. Deal?”

Katelyn says, “Yeah…Much older,” The girls giggle a bit before Katelyn diverts their attention, “Alright go get your shoes so you girls can go out to eat with Daddy,” Their giggles explode before they turn and run down the hallway. I laugh as I watch them struggle, only for Katelyn to speak once more, “You want to come in for a minute?”

I nod before stepping inside. The girls start playing and fighting a little bit, as if they are in a race to see who can get their shoes on faster. Katelyn starts talking to them and I hold a smile on my face as I take a small stroll around the apartment, only to stop dead in my tracks as something catches my eye in the hallway. It’s a picture, with the glass of the frame appearing to be busted, as if someone punched it. I try to repeat to myself that it is nothing more than coincidence, but it’s a pill I can’t quite swallow. I take the picture off the wall, fully unable to shake the old familiar feeling as I look at it, seeing the picture of my girls and through the shattered glass I see…Ace’s face…

“You alright?” I hear Katelyn’s voice calling from behind me.

I shake my head, slightly startled before turning to face her, “Yeah I’m fine,” I run my hand over my face, “What happened here?”

Katelyn shrugs, “I don’t know. My only guess is that one of the girls’ toys hit it or something. I really have no clue. I really hate that the frame is broken. It is such a good picture,” She takes the picture from me and smiles as she looks at it, “They really love…” I let out a sigh, “Sorry,” She says, “I’m not going to say anything else, okay?”

I nod, “Thank you,” I then look at Kelly and Keira, who have finally gotten their shoes. I am thankful for that as I ask, “You girls ready to go?”

They nod, maintaining ear to ear grins on their little beautiful nieces. I smile with them as I say, “Alright let’s go…”

- - - - - - - - - - -

When you take a look at my career, you will notice that I have never been a man of style. I have never been a man to come out and make the people laugh. I’ve made them cheer. I’ve made them boo. I have even made them scratch or shake their heads. The same could be said when it comes to the men who run the show, namely Mr. D. I know I am not a master of the microphone. I know that I haven’t always had the greatest move set, doing dives and things to make the fans jump out of their seats, but then again, I’ve never wanted to be. When I have picked up a microphone or stepped in front of a camera, I have always got in and gotten out. I’ve said what I’ve needed to say and left it at that, allowing my skills speak for themselves, letting my skills truly get my message across.

I am more sport than entertainment.

More substance than style.

I’ve never been able to quite pull off being the quote unquote total package. I have tried, in vain to do so. I have tried to be someone like Shilo Valiant minus the face paint or masks. I have tried to be like my opponent at Rise to Greatness, Ace Marshall. I’ve committed many sins but one of the biggest ones I’ve committed has been envy. Yes, I have been envious of the likes of Ace Marshall. He is a man that can pick up a microphone and entertain all of the people watching, whether they love him or hate him. He has always managed to have the ability to captivate those around him with his charisma and personality. He can be funny and sarcastic which are traits that this world, this watered down, technology loving society absolutely eats up. Ace Marshall gives them all hashtag worthy moments. Gives them a reason to upload videos to their YouTube or Facebook accounts. He always does something to give the viewing public something to talk about, be it dressing up like Kennedy Street or cracking jokes on Twitter as well as live television.

Yes I once envied Ace Marshall because I have never been able to quite crack jokes and be sarcastic. I have never been as witty as him. No one has ever loved me the way that they have loved Ace Marshall. Ace makes the wrestling world money while I have typically been the guy who shows up, wrestles, and collects a paycheck. Ace Marshall is a wrestling promoter’s wet dream. I get that. I have understood that. He has a good look. The female fan base, as well as those in the locker room, creams their panties at the sight of him and the way he oozes charisma and machismo. People see him as a the alpha male and Ace feeds off of it.

It is nothing more than a lie.

The SCW feeds off of it too. They play it up very, very well. Dressing Ace up as the end all, be all. He is the face of this new resurgence in the so called dying male roster of SCW. They love that he is cocky and brash. He says and does things with everyone from the suits in the office to the faces in the crowd just eating it up. Ace holds the crowd in the palm of his hand.

In a way, he has become the SCW’s “Pele” if you will.

And it’s hard not to be envious of that. I was at first. I remember watching in 2009 as he took the world of professional wrestling by storm. I was training with my mentor Josh Hudson at the time and I was always like, I want to be like that guy. I want to be smooth. I want to be able to entertain the masses and have them laugh with me, and feel my pain when I am in the ring. I wanted to be a superstar. I recall Hudson asking me what makes a superstar and of course he and I different opinions on the matter.

I saw a superstar as someone, like Ace, who just had “it”. I wanted to have “it.” I wanted to have “it” coming out of every orifice and sliding off of my fingertips. I wanted “it” to carry me when I laced up my wrestling boots and had a camera in my face. Combined with my hard work ethic, I felt that I would be able to go anywhere I wanted. And I wanted to go straight to the top, having the spotlight shine down upon me almost instantly, but that was nothing more than a fantasy when I started with the SCW, allowing reality to set in.

I lied to myself. I tried being the cocky and arrogant young man that I was when I first arrived. It fell flat. I was nothing more than bitter. I was part of the Chosen with the mother of my children, Katelyn, Ace, and my dear old cousin, Chad. I didn’t mesh with them. I wasn’t a babbling airhead like Katelyn. I wasn’t a charming talker like Ace. I brooded like Chad, but he had charisma just as Ace did. All three of them were held in a higher regard than me, despite only winning a handful of matches here and there, while I was the workhorse of the group.

That was the time when I learned that I was nothing more than a star. No matter how hard I tried to be cocky and brash, it wasn’t the same. Fell on deaf ears. While someone like Ace has the gift of gab, I did not. I could fight and wrestle like nobody’s business. Nobody ever discredited me for that, but that was about it.

Spending months of taking down top names and always busting my ass inside of the ring didn’t amount to much of anything except more bitterness, more frustration. I had to swallow that bitter pill every single time I watched Ace go out to the ring and despite losing most of his matches, he would manage to get a win and all of a sudden, the world was buzzing harder than he typically was back in those days. There was talk of title shots and main event status for my good friend, Ace.

But that is the way it has always been with Ace Marshall. He has always been glorified and praised even when he does absolutely nothing. His half ass work ethic was applauded. His drunken stupors generated laughter and crowd reaction, therefore generating revenue for this company. When he’d leave just out of nowhere, he was missed. When he returned, it was like all of his no-showing never occurred. Ace would pick up right where he left off. That is a big difference between he and I. He never truly cared about this business. He was always just bored, despite having everything practically catered to him. I cared. I busted my ass. I didn’t cause problems, even managing to keep my addictions hidden, not allowing them to truly hinder my ability. Yet I was overlooked and had noses turned up towards the sky whenever I’d come into view.

I was just a guy who could get a good match out of people like Ace. I’ve spent time with the man. I lived with him. I’ve been stabbed in the back by him. Therefore, I know the REAL him. People love who they see now. Ace is clean. Ace is still fun and charming. He is still charismatic, bringing a much needed dose of energy into the SCW. The people have clamored for him. He has even made a load of friends and acquaintances since he returned at the end of last year. He has won almost every single contest he’s been involved in. It has all been about him pretty much since he won the End of the Year Invitational. It was like Mr. D’s long, lost son returned home and the old gimp was ready to hand Ace the keys to the kingdom, completely ignoring the son that has always been here, the son that has worked his ass off to gain his attention, only to be shunned and outcast.

Ace Marshall is a liar, truth be told. The people love him and Ace enjoys it. He can claim he wants to have fun and entertain the people, but sooner or later, Ace will grow bored. Right now he is loving it all, gobbling it all up. As soon as the focus is off of him, and the world moves on from Ace, he will spin the world around and shove in the blade, laughing while he grinds the steel into backbone of the SCW…its fan base. Everyone will know the truth. That they were nothing more than fools.

Ace Marshall does what he can to appeal to everyone because the bastard is insecure. He needs to surround himself with people. Look at his run with Greaternity. He couldn’t maintain his one man frat boy party going without cohorts. He was having a hard time staying relevant upon his return because he was the same ol’, same ol’. He had to get into bed with every single woman he came across, pun intended. A few years ago, Ace was struggling on his own, like the child that he truly is, until I came along and bailed him out. I took Ace in and all he did was embarrass me and do his best to one up me. I never received any sort of recognition or appreciation, much like my time with the SCW, especially when Ace is around. Ace is a snake, just waiting for the moment you turn your back so he can bite you and infect you. He gets off on watching the suffering of those who try to help him and show that they care for his well-being.

Nobody wants to see it or accept it. They are all enjoying the Ace that they have in front of them, including Katelyn Buehler. Ace can manipulate the world, holding it in the palm of his hand. I spent so much time wanting to do the same, but in the end, the very thought made me sick. I didn’t want to be associated with people who bought into that lie.

The lie being that Ace is worthy of all of this adulation, because he is a changed man, because he is a good man. Ace Marshall is not a good man. The fact that this lie has spread like a virus, turning everyone into mindless sheep, almost like zombies, has caused me to pull out my own knife. I’ve been sharpening it because I want to plunge it into the heart of the lie, into the heart of Ace Marshall. I want to watch Ace Marshall gasp for air. I want to see him bleed out while his legs and arms shake. I will hold his trembling hand before using that blade to cut out his intestines. I will hold them in front of his face so he can see the truth, that he truly is full of shit. If his little mistress wishes to become involved, I can do the same for her, no matter how much of a bad ass she thinks that she is. I’ve fought her mentor Rachel and I have destroyed her time and time again. I will do the same to Ace’s love, should she try to get involved. She will learn that this isn’t some kiddie game.

I don’t play games…

When I first started in wrestling, I was a man of substance.

Now I am a man of vengeance. A man of misery and pain. At Rise to Greatness, I will wreak havoc and strike down upon Ace with great vengeance and furious anger. All of the misery and pain that I have endured over the years, Ace will finally endure it as well.

I…Am…Coming…For your…Heart…Ace.

I am coming for your heart…

If I were to say this to Ace, he wouldn’t have the slightest clue as to what I mean. He would just laugh at me and crack his jokes. I would love that. I really would, just as I would love to see the look on his face when he finds out exactly what I mean.

Soon…Very soon…

- - - - - - - - - - -

The girls finish eating their ice cream as we sit outside, enjoying what is left of the sunshine. I chuckle at the thought of them being super hyper and hard for Katelyn to deal with as Kismet speaks, “You’re doing so good, James. They really love you. I can tell that you really love them.”

Hearing her say that brings a smile to my face, “I hope so. I want them to know that I want to protect them and make sure that they are safe.”

She says, “I understand that. But you need to do something about Abel. Otherwise, something bad is going to happen. I know you don’t want that and neither do I.”

“I know” I reply, feeling weak with my words, before Kelly turns to me, “Yes sweetie?”

She asks, “Are you and Uncle Ace fighting?”

I let out a sigh, realizing that this was going to happen no matter what, “Have you two been watching TV with Mommy?”

Keira fires back, “Yes…”

I shrug my shoulders, “Oh okay. Well, you two shouldn’t be watching that. Especially when you see daddy and Uncle Ace fighting.”

Kelly asks another question just as all children do, “Why are you fighting Uncle Ace?”

I lean in a little closer to her, “I don’t know if you’ll understand, baby girl. Uncle Ace and I…we aren’t friends. We don’t get along. And he has that big gold belt that Daddy wants.”

Keira speaks, in between licking her spoon, “Why can’t you just share? Kelly and I share all the time, Daddy.”

I laugh, “Because Uncle Ace doesn’t share. He used to take from Daddy without asking. It wasn’t very nice of Uncle Ace.”

I look back down at Kelly as her curiosity continues, “Was Uncle Ace mean to you, Daddy?”

I nod, “In a way, he was. But I don’t want either of you to worry about any of that. Uncle Ace and I are grown-ups and when we fight, it is just something that we have to do. It’s our job. Does that make sense?”

They nod their heads, even though I know it really doesn’t. I then ask, “Can you guys do something for me?”, Once again they nod their little heads, “Alright good. If you see Uncle Ace and I arguing or fighting, I want you to look away okay…I don’t want you to hear anything that Uncle Ace says about me because he will tell lies about Daddy. And I don’t want you to see Daddy and Uncle Ace hurt one another. Is that a deal?” They nod once more, “Okay good. I love you girls so, so much.”

Kelly leans up and hugs me, “I love you Daddy,” Keira comes over and hugs me too, repeating Kelly’s sentiment. I wrap my arms around them, kissing them both on the tops of their heads.

“Can I take a picture of you guys?” I ask, pulling out my phone. They giggle then nod, “Alright go sit beside each other,” I say motioning for them. Once they get into a good spot, I stand up from my seat then kneel down on one knee. I click the camera button on my phone and it brings up a picture that I don’t remember taking.

Katelyn is lying on her bed, in lacy underwear…just like in my nightmare…

I hear Abel speak, “Looks like someone has excellent taste as well as talent…”

I turn my head into the direction of the voice, “What did you do?”

He chuckles, “What did I do? More like…what did we do?”

Before I can say anything, Keira calls out, “Daddy! Did you take the picture yet?”

I shake my head, “No baby. Sorry. Daddy’s phone doesn’t like me but I got it to work now. Alright, who loves you?” They smile really big after saying ‘Daddy’ and I take the picture. They then run over to me and we hug. As I hold them in my arms, the love I have for them seems to be the only thing that I know is true, I tell myself. Everything else is torn, scattered in my mind.

I’m really not crazy am I?

Or have I just been lying to myself?

- - - - - - - - - - -


That is all that I can do whenever I finish listening to Ace Marshall’s diatribe. I’ve listened to it quite a bit, Ace. You really are a smooth talker. You have such a way with words. Oh, Ace you make words your bitch. You have painted quite a picture of me, old friend. You’ve made me out to be a monster. A psychopath. And I understand. I really enjoy hurting people in that ring, but who doesn’t when it comes to stepping into the squared circle? You have to hurt others in order to pick up the win. You have to push them beyond their limits, doing all you can to hurt them before locking in that submission, tightening it, pushing your opponent past their pain threshold so that they tap out. You have to hurt others, beating on them to hopefully knock them out cold as a block of ice so you can hook those legs and get that sweet sounding one, two, three…

I do that, but that doesn’t make me a monster. If that is the case then you would be a monster. Everyone in this profession would be a monster. The lunatics would be running the asylum. You would be bedding psychopath after psychopath, Ace. I am no psychopath, Ace. I think the only psychotic thing that I ever did was trust you. I was truly psychotic to answer my phone and hear you out when you needed help. I know I wasn’t the first person on your list because you’ve never held me in any sort of high regard. But I ignored that and I came to your aid when you were having guns pointed to your head, knives being waved in your face. I came to your aid and I bailed you out. I put enough trust in you when I gave you a place to live. I put my trust in you when we became roommates. I put faith in you to be a responsible adult, but all you could do was party with barely legal skanks and morons who worshipped you were like some sort of God.

Yes, that makes me a psychotic. To ever believe that you could care about someone else other than yourself, to ever believe you could put someone else in front of your own selfish needs and desires. That makes me absolutely fucking crazy, doesn’t it?

For someone who claims to know me very well, you truly have no idea about who I am. You can say that I don’t know who I am, but I do. Yes, I have struggled with finding my identity throughout the years. I can and have admitted that. You ignore the fact that I have. I admitted that just as I admitted that a lot of the time, I have held myself back. I left a lot on my own accord and they put a damper on things for me. I have blamed the powers that be for a lot of things that have happened in my career, but I am man enough to admit that I was spewing bullshit most of the time. But when I say that you have always had it easier than me, that isn’t bullshit. You’ve never had to really struggle. Someone has always managed to bail you out, Ace. You know how to use people and bend them to your will. I’ve struggled Ace, for my entire life. The clothes that I wear, and the money that I have…they are things that I had to work for and earn. The Evans empire was ran by my grandfather who looked down upon my household because of the type of people my parents were. I didn’t get mistreated by choice. No not like you. You were born of privilege with your mother in politics and all of the power that comes along with that.

While you were getting slapped on the hand and told to be a good boy, I was getting slapped in the back of the head and being called a piece of shit despite doing all that I could to help out my family. I was called a faggot because I’d cry due to being slapped in the back of the head over and over again. What the fuck happened to you? And you want to talk about pressure? You can handle pressure of having bright lights and titles, because you live for the spotlight. You need to be the center of the attention. You are always looking for eyes to be on you, like the family that kicked you out because they were sick of your bullshit. I lived under pressure. Never knowing what would happen to me when I got home. That’s pressure. Having to take care of my siblings at the age of seven because my parents were too unfit to do so. That’s pressure. Having to defend my mother from my asshole father when he got a little too drunk, taking the hits for her despite the fact that she would put cigarettes out on my back…yeah that’s pressure. You know nothing about living under pressure. Defending the TV Championship week after week isn’t pressure. I’ve been Champion. I’ve been the target and I did my best while defending those belts. That is a cake walk when compared to what I’ve gone through. Getting thrown around by David Miller, or fighting Shilo Valiant…I live for that shit.

And trust me, I am not telling you any of this to garner sympathy. That isn’t my style. I just wanted you to see that you truly have no fucking clue as to who I am. You were just doing what you do best which is talking out of your ass.

I work well under pressure and I have always survived.

On my own.

With no one there to bail me out or back me up.

You never had me call you for help because I have always figured things out on my own. You with your cliques and best friends…your over the top parties…all of your bragging…you represent what this world has become. The world has gone the route where sarcasm is a fashion trend. You have to be sarcastic otherwise you’re a loser. You have to have a billion friends otherwise you have no reason to live. If you’re not producing a hashtag worthy moment then you’re not living.

Because I have never been, nor am I now, someone like that…that would be what makes me a Neanderthal. Not hurting people. If that were the case then you would be right there with me. So would everyone else on Twitter. Hurting others doesn’t just translate to the ring. It is all over social media. Like when you’d use me as your punching bag on Twitter. The way you talk to someone face to face, that can hurt people. Like at your friend’s party. You said hey to me but we both knew you didn’t want to give me the time of day.

It’s not that you are better than me. It just that you THINK you’re better than me.

That has always been your mentality when you look at me. Back in the Chosen, when I was out there, fighting every week, giving it my best, you thought you were better than me, no matter how many times you jobbed out to Sketch Retro or Harmony Fisher. I was out there, giving a shit, honing my craft, always trying to get better at this. Yet, you brushed it off because this company spoiled you.

The man of privilege…

Fuck you.

You think I have no emotion. Look into these eyes, listen to this voice. You are not looking into the eyes of a monster. In these eyes, in these words, you hear passion. Something you just recently discovered, something that I have always had and something I have always fought to maintain. The world sees you as fun and the world ignores passion and heart, because fun is what sells. I get that and I understand that. That is why the world bows at your feet because you have given a damn about this sport for six months. That is why I’ve been so back and forth with who I am. I’ve never had it easy. I have always given a damn and gotten passed over. Those frustrated led to me leaving, holding myself back. But here I am, outlasting thirty nine other superstars in order to arrive here at Rise to Greatness in the main event, something I have always been passionate about. I am preparing to compete against you for the SCW World Championship in a match, as we both know, nobody expected to see…a match no one wants to see.

A match that no one will ever forget…

Not even you…not even if you manage to beat me which you already seem to think you will do, because it would be out of character for you to give me any credit. I know you can beat me. I know you will give me your best shot, not only in the ring but in front of the camera. I will feel your punches and kicks, as I am human. I have always known that. I have felt pain in my past and I look forward to feeling it in the future. I know in order to take the World title from you, I will have to wrestle it from your grip and trust me, I will do so. I will give you a hell of a fight. I am going to hurt you, Ace. You know that. I have no problem in meeting you face to face. You think I am afraid of standing toe to toe with you? If you think some from behind attacks show who I really am, then you are nothing more than a hypocrite. I mean, how many times have you done something behind my back? Think about that before you decide to pass judgment on me for jumping you from behind.

I mean, the way I see it…I’ve owed you this…

All of this.

But that isn’t why I want the World Championship. My desire to be World Champion has nothing to do with you. It has to do with all of the pressure I have been placed under since a young age. All of the hardships I’ve endured, none of them by choice. All of the frustration at management as well as myself. It has to do with all of that because when I pin you or make you tap out at the grandest stage of them all, and I am crowned the SCW Heavyweight Champion of the world, I will look at the crowd, I will look into the camera so I can lock eyes with the viewing public and then I will look at that belt…knowing that all of the bullshit, all of the trials and tribulations…all of it was well worth it.

And you can limp back to the locker room. You can go out and celebrate. You can go on and keep the show going, Ace. Go for it. It won’t change the result…

James Evans, your new SCW World Heavyweight Champion…

On that night, you will want to be…


On that night, you will know that I can swim with the sharks and keep my head above water, no matter what.

Can you truly do the same?

Can you truly thrive when the pressure is truly put on?

We shall find out soon enough, champ.