~So don't cry to me ohhh baby. Your future is in a Oblong Box!~

Stewart wasn't taking any chances. I wouldn't blame him. After all, he knows that someone is after him. If he wasn't one of the most paranoid fucks on the planet to begin with, well, I gave him motivation to make sure that he was cranking it to eleven. Always surrounded by his own private security at CWF headquarters, in route to and from home, and even at his home. Or at least the home that he is renting. Not the most expensive, but a shit like him doesn't need much. It's spacious enough, but the biggest thing about it is that there are men stationed on the grounds at all times. Which is great. No, if you think about it. What is the best thing about paranoid men? They want to feel safe, and if you can't give that to them...you take it away from them. A few cigarette butts here and there on the outside of the grounds. He starts thinking someone is scoping out his place. Figuring out he wants to upgrade his security system. I keep the pressure up. Getting things in with delivery men. Slipping someone an extra twenty to put a little notes in things. Making him think I was already in there. He starts calling. He wants to get this done fast. Cost isn't an issue. Good. I get a way to get access into the house thru his own security system. Just have to walk past guards and slip in.

This house took the term spartan and thought it was to excessive. There isn't that much furniture or anything in here, no pictures on the walls, but then again. Stewart has always tried to keep his life secret. The only stuff I know is the same stuff that Trent Steel has told me about him. As I walk in I make my way thru the house until I see one room with the light on. And that's when it hits me. Well...that's when I get hit.

“Tax...you really are getting predictable.”The blonde hair. The white suit. The man smirks that smile that use to make fans know that he was about to fuck up his opponent. DJ...the man known as Dude JoB. My former trainer. My former friend. A man who dissappeared for months and just shoved me out the door at Frozen Over to go and fight. I scowl as I get up. He's not even getting into a fighting stance. I know why. Something about him was never right. Something about the way he hit you just hit harder. After a while I finally asked Trent why DJ's punches always hurt for such a small guy. Guy has metal in his knuckles. Literally this guy is hitting you with brass knux everytime he punches you.

“I'm not here for you.”

“I know. It's just a benefit. I told you and Trent to leave him alone and you aren't listening. You did good. It's a great trick. It's good to know you haven't forgotten everything Armstrong taught you.” Agent Armstrong. Fuck that fucking fuck. “You need to back the fuck off.”

“He knows who fucked with my head. I want to know the truth.”

“You don't ever want to know that son. Trust me.”With that I charge. I tackle DJ, or so I thought, but my shoulder gives out. His ribs. Metal to. God damn it. Double ax to my back. I get picked up and then he gets behind me. I call the move “ER Stat” DJ has another name for it. Have you ever been “No Bitched” out of a two story window onto a clay tile roof of a garage. I have. It's great for the spine.

“The reality agent for this place is going to hate you. I suggest you call “Property Brothers”.” I say as I get up. I'm not going away. He steps out onto the ledge and sighs as I feel it. The hairs on my arms go up. Shit. I start to run. I run across the roof of the garage. It's a simple parkour jump to the wall. Am I going to make it. Barely. I look back just as DJ brings up his hand and it happens. Lightning. Bio Electrical Feedback Pulse. I've only seen DJ use it once. It was to stop a car from hitting him. The shock hits right at my feet as I fly back off of the wall...into a tree. As the theme from “George of the Jungle” plays in my head. I look down. My shoes are smoking. Legs are burning. I sigh. I hear the guards coming.

“Next time...I won't miss!” I hear him retort as I high tail it thru the brush outside of the house. I get to my rental car and peel off. A note on my radio in Stewart's handwriting.

“You owe me a deposit...”

One of these nights fucker...I'm going to deposit my foot up your ass!

I guess this is where I should be grateful. I'm facing a “frand” and stablemate in these semi-finals.

The problem is honestly I don't remember him. Don't get me wrong. I've watched the tapes. Everything makes sense, but you have to look at it from my point of view. The only thing I remember about Dorian is that we fought. We fought because he was a drunk. We fought because I didn't think he could make it in CWF. I don't remember what changed this, but I can honestly say this.

I've never been so proud to be so wrong.

Who knew? I mean, look at you. From who you were to who you are now has been leaps and bounds. This tournament is right up your alley. You are probably an odds on favorite to win it and finally get that shot at the belt. I have no doubt that you would be my pick D...

If I wasn't your opponent.

Everyone's thinking it so I will just go on out and say it. I've got no reason to trust you do I? I mean I don't remember you becoming this upstanding guy. Shadow says this is how it is. How do I know that everyone has been messed with? I've lost some time in my life. Why should I trust you?

Because I know me.

I don't fix people who aren't worth helping.

So as it stands right now I am trusting you Dorian. I know if we are true “frands” then I don't have to worry about you. The only thing I have to worry about is that I did to good of a job getting you up to snuff. The last time we fought apparently you showed me something I didn't want to see.

You showed me my face didn't you?

And the best part...you don't know what it looks like. You knew I was hiding something. That's something you could use to your advantage right. Except here is a problem now. I don't remember who I was. Oh flashes here and there, but not what I was afraid of. So that plan, if you were going with that, don't even bother.

I don't want you to waste your time. I want you to be your best.

I want you to be proud of what you do to me this week. I know you will have more motivation there at ringside. Which is why this is going out to little Chloe.

Sweetie. I know the temptation there is to help Daddy. That's your job. You do it well. I know you want him to win that world title. I know that would make you so proud. I hope you understand that Uncle Taxia has to do this to. I have to win the world title. Not because I need to. Not because I want the damn thing. I have to. Because I know the moment I do...we're all out of danger. There is something really bad coming that I don't know if your dad can handle. Not because he isn't good at what he does. Your daddy is a wrestler...I'm a freak.

And freaks get shit done.

These people from Carnage, SEE, and other places are walking into my home. They are walking into my federation and they think I'm going to let them get a shot at MY title!

In the words of a man who tried to electrocute me with his cyborg lightning powers...NO BITCH!

This is the house “The Forsaken” built! It is my home! I tried to save it years ago when I went to a shithole called SFT. A shithole of pure vile piss and putrid puss. I walked in there in good faith and someone eliminated me from the tournament because I was an outsider. I didn't understand that until this tournament.

This is my home.

This is my soul.

This is who the fuck I am.

You want to know who I am under the mask?! You want to know what I am capable of?! You have no idea what kind of hell you people have walked into. This match with my good friend. I've taken him to his mental limits and I turned a vengeful bitter man into one of my good frands...

What hope do you fucks have when I don't care to fucking know you! And I aim to fuck them up.

So like it or not Dorian...

I'm going to take everything “The Hungover Hellmaster” can do to me and still get back up. Not because you haven't earned it. Far from it. I'd be proud to have you as a world champion in our home, but you see Dorian. There is a problem here. To win this. To do what needs to be done. To be the real hero of CWF...

It's not the best man who can do it.

It's the worst one. This will be my only mercy in this tournament. So watch intently all of you who think you have what it takes. Watch what I do to this man...and know...

I love him.

And I hate all of you.

The Reckoning will continue...the lesson will be learned...you now face Ataxia...and you shall all burn...AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA!!!

I returned to the mansion, licking my wounds. On my way in I feel my phone buzz. I look down. Trent Steel. Fuck my life.

“What do you want?”

“You need to stay away from them. I can't protect you if you keep going after Stewart.”

“I don't want protection. I want my life back.”

“And you'll get it back, but you have to be...”

“I WILL RIP YOUR GOD DAMN FACE OFF AND SHIT IT DOWN YOUR GULLET YOU PRETENTIOUS FUCK!!!”Silence. Now that we are on the same page. I calm down. “You. You have it so easy. You walk around and people know not to fuck with you. Me. I don't get that luxury. I walk around pretending to be someone else for everyone else's sake. I only get to be myself when I wear a god damn sack on my head because it's the best for everyone. I don't even know why I have to hide anymore. I don't even remember my name! Do you understand...I need my life back. I'm in love with someone and I don't even remember why! Do you have any idea how much this hurts...”

He's quiet. For a long time he's quiet while I try to calm myself down.

“Yes I do. DJ went thru it.”

“Well fuck that hippie hellraiser. He fucking tried to electrocute me tonight.”

“He used the pulse on you?”

“Unless the man is secretly carrying around a taser love glove then yes!”

“Meet me after the show. We're going to get this sorted out.”I don't like this. From what I do remember about Trent Steel. He's going to do something drastic. “Trust me.”

“How can I?”

“Because I love you son...and you know me...you don't fuck with my family and get away with it!”

The phone stops and I walk over to my bed. Bed. It's suppose to be something else. What is it suppose to be. My head rings as I think about...a coffin...where is my coffin? I look over at a picture next to the bed. It's Mia and I...why can't I remember? Why...would someone do this to me? What did I do to deserve this? What...what can I do to fix this?

Fin