The Reaper's Hourglass II: Exorcism
Jan 30, 2016 14:18:50 GMT -5
Joey Flash, Lilith, and 2 more like this
Post by God King Dune on Jan 30, 2016 14:18:50 GMT -5
Three vultures fly in a circular route high in the clear desert sky, evenly spaced as they eye and sniff what may well be a week’s worth of feasting. Three vultures for three dying animals...or perhaps they’re dead already. Curiosity gets the best of one of the massive birds, and its cohorts follow it as it dips down to get a better look.
We cut to the ground, where the three bodies are revealed.
Pinky, Freeman, and Dune’s massive rottweiler lie in a heap just inside a wide, steel-lined tunnel that leads into the mountain above them. Pinky is covered in blood, her feet mangled by the Jackal’s cruel handywork. Freeman, too, is covered in blood, and he continues to bleed thanks to the fresh mauling Dune’s rottweiler gave him when the Jackal took refuge within Freeman’s body. Meanwhile, the rottweiler himself doesn’t bleed, but he lies apparently broken after the Jackal flung him down the mountainside.
The vultures don’t know how their prey became such, nor do they care. They only want to know if they’re dead - or, rather, if they’re helpless enough to allow for the feasting to begin. One scopes the scene and chooses its target: the all-too-dead looking Pinky. The bird closes on her, and when she continues to lie motionless against the tunnel wall, it begins to peck at her hand...and peck...and in seeing their fellow bird tear off a chunk of flesh from her forearm, the other two vultures flock to the girl.
They’re so transfixed on the coming feast that they fail to notice when the eyes of the rottweiler shoot open at the commotion…
In an instant, one vulture is decapitated and flung against the wall just above Pinky’s head. Blood spews and feather fly as the remaining two dash away and flap their heavy wings. One flies free, and the other just barely manages to escape the snapping teeth of Dune’s rottweiler as he lunges at it.
From the ground, the beast bays wildly before it lets out a yelp of pain. He limps over to Pinky and begins to lick the fresh wounds on her palms and forearm, and the camera pans over and changes focus on the freshly mauled Freeman as his eyes begin to flutter open. As he awakens, we cut to his view.
Seeing the massive beast who’d just brought him to the brink of death does little to calm his nerves upon assessing the damage. All the same, he knows there's no time to waist, and he calls out to him in a leap of faith.
Freeman: Hey bud...come here, bud. It’s me. You remember me.
The dog turns, his eyes staring intensely through those of Freeman for the tell-tale signs of the Jackal. He approaches the ravaged old man slowly...but after a moment he sprints over and greets his old friend warmly.
Freeman: Alright, alright...get off me you fuck. Go to her.
The beast follows his finger, yet as he approaches Pinky, a scent catches his nose. Freeman watches as the dog puts his snout to the ground and begins to follow a set of large, bloody footprints that lead into the tunnel. He snaps at the hound.
Freeman: No! Stay.
Knowing he’s too weak to fight, as is the limping rottweiler before him, Freeman opts for the only feasible way he can help Dune for the time being - to flee with the hound and the girl; to save his oldest friend and his one true love. Somehow, he manages to find his feet. He meets the dog’s eyes as he snaps his fingers and points at Pinky .
Freeman: You stay with her, got it?
The beast lays his massive head down upon Pinky’s leg, and Freeman takes a deep breath before venturing out of the tunnel toward the buggy hidden beneath a tarp not far away.
When he’s out of sight, the beast sits up, and once more his nose sniffs out the bloody footprints that lead into the tunnel. He begins to venture toward the darkness, though just before he meets the shadow-line, he holds his ground and begins to snarl into it. His growls soon mix with the sound of an approaching dune buggy, and we zoom in from behind the dog before we’re bathed in silent darkness.
But the quiet doesn’t last long. Soon, the sound of whispering voices seeps into the shadow all around us. At first we can’t make out what they say...that is, until an all too familiar question rings out with clarity:
“How’s it gonna end?”
The unintelligible whispers continue, and they grow louder and louder until finally the darkness all around us disperses as if it were a cloud of black smoke. As it fades, we’re greeted with an image of the past.
Occulo sits beside the half-masked Dune high above the WCF stage. The two founding Sentinels had come together only one week before, when Dune saved Occulo from a vicious assault led by Joey Flash. Now, they overlook the ring as Flash fights alongside Katherine Phoenix against the pubescent Eve Vega and a man still relatively unknown to both the world and the Sentinels alike - a man by the name of Howard Black.
Occulo: He’s good.
Dune: Flash? I know. I saw the two of you at One this past year, even though I didn’t debut for another week.
Occulo: No, not Flash. The other one - what’s his name, Howard…?
Dune: Ah, Howard Black. Yeah -
The crowd “ooohs” as Black flies off the apron and lands a double axe-handle atop Flash’s skull.
Dune: - he’s damn good.
Occulo: To be able to stand toe to toe with Flash in his second bout...that’s saying something.
They continue to watch the match unfold, and both Occulo and Dune scowl as Flash eventually picks up the victory. But the crowd gives it up for Howard, who garners heartfelt cheers even as the enigma Eve Vega lies motionless at his feet.
Occulo: He’s the one. He’s our third Sentinel.
Dune eyes the dogged, determined look on Howard’s face as he walks back up the ramp before responding.
Dune: Yes...yes, I think you’re right.
Howard passes out of sight behind the curtain as the silhouettes of the Sentinels look on.
After a moment, darkness begins to seep in from all sides, and before long we’re left in shadow once more. The feeling of intense backward motion follows, until finally we pass through and out of the pit of an eye enwrapped by an all-too-familiar shade of icy blue.
As we zoom out from the face of Dune, a curious smile comes over his lips. It’s not Dune, himself, who puts it there; it’s the Jackal, who’s taken control of Dune’s form. Meanwhile, the conscious-Dune remains trapped inside himself, helpless as the Jackal scours through the annals of his experience.
Dune: Is that all it took?
The Jackal shakes his head, and we continue to zoom out until Dune’s entire frame comes into view.
Dune: Seeing Howard Black lose was what made the two of you decide he was worthy of your partnership? Unbelievable. It’s no wonder why your bonds hardly lasted three months. You were cut from the same cloth - the kind that frays and fails time and time again.
You fail in the ring, and you fail outside of it. Even your methods of choosing teammates lends you to criticism and doubt. You should know that I doubt you, Dune. Others may say you can, but I’m telling you that you can’t...at least not without me by your side. And don’t worry, Dune, because that’s exactly where I’ll be this Sunday.
He stands and holds out his arms.
Dune: Right here.
The camera zooms in on his face slowly as his arms go back to his sides. It comes to a stop a few feet away, and the Jackal continues speaking vicariously through the former WCF World Champion.
Dune: Those who should be worried, however, are Occulo and Howard Black. Knowing the cowardice that runs rampant through Dune’s original partner, Occulo, he’s never regretted drawing the attention of a greater foe worse than he does now. He doesn’t fully realize what awaits him at Fifteen. He’s used to paddlings over daddy’s knee, but what he’s set to receive by my hand - by the hand of the partner he betrayed - will make all that seem like child’s play.
Howard Black’s worried too...no doubt about it. He’s been worried his whole life, though always of the wrong thing. You see, Howard’s not worried about the very real possibility of dying this Sunday, or at the very least receiving a beating as close to fatal as can possibly achieved without crossing the mortal threshold...no. He’s worried about not being able to save Dune from me.
The Jackal laughs, but he stifles himself quickly before Dune’s face goes sour.
Dune: You’re a damned fool, Howard. And this Sunday, you’ll be treated as such.
How dare you plot and scheme against me. It only proves my point that you and big brother Dune and your sniveling little brother Occulo were cut from the same cloth. Dune tried his damndest to get the best of me...look at him now. And now I come to find that you and Occulo have hatched a plan against me - naive as you may be in your true knowledge of what lurks beneath the dark waters you wade in - a plan to rid me of my host; to rid of me for good.
The Jackal turns away from the screen in disgust as he continues through Dune.
Dune: But don’t take my word for it, Howard. Nor you, Occulo. The disdain - the hate - he has for you is very real. Have a look; have a listen.
With his back to us, Dune reaches up and feels his face. At the same time, the camera slowly rotates, revealing a dapper, grey-suited gentleman grinning wryly before him: the Jackal, having just departed the hulking frame of his favorite puppet.
The camera continues to rotate, until finally we gaze head on at Dune. Seemingly unencumbered by the Jackal, a rage fills Dune’s eyes as thoughts of his former Sentinel brothers run through his mind. Seething in anger, he stares ahead at the Jackal as if waiting for him to speak. After a long moment, he does.
Jackal: Occulo.
Dune: The first to fall.
Jackal: Howard Black.
Dune: The hardest to fall.
The Jackal smiles to hear traces of himself speaking for Dune - the Jackal-induced sickness in full effect.
Jackal: Go on...ah, as a matter of fact, speak to him directly. Here, allow me.
Just then, the Jackal’s form changes to none other than that of Howard Black. Dune eases to see the mirage of the third Sentinel standing before him.
Dune: Howard...
With the word, his face dons a cold scowl as if on cue, and he gazes into Howard’s false eyes as he continues.
Dune: Howard Black.
Do you remember me, Howard? I’m the man you swore your vow of allegiance to all those months ago; the man to whom you promised to stand for the fallen and against the rising. It’s funny...I suppose Occulo was unable - or perhaps unwilling - to recognize that my rise to the top was inevitable when he came up with those words. And when I finally did rise higher than all the rest, his words were made meaningless. For soon, he would become the fallen - and you would become the man who had pledged himself under a traitor’s vow. And even now, the two of you say those long-dead words with something close to pride:
The Sentinels stand for the fallen; the Sentinels stand against the rising.
And what of the risen, Howard? If history is any indication, the Sentinels discard him. The Sentinels leave him to fend for himself amongst the wolves. The Sentinels fall in the face of the risen - that’s how the words go. Because after I won the World Title - after Occulo became the shell he exists as today - you weren’t long in following in his treacherous abandonment of your so-called “brother.”
He scowls harder and takes a step toward Howard, who wears the Jackal’s grin as Dune continues.
Dune: Your brother - how dare you refer to me as such. You were hardly a friend, let alone a brother. You put on a good show though. So good, in fact, that I was fooled into believing you and Occulo had the group’s best interests at heart. After all, what’s the point of banding together if one of us flees at the first sign of trouble; if another flees when the same troubles befall him. And what were those troubles, Howard? For Occulo, as it was for you, the one thing you couldn’t come to grips with was my complete and utter domination of the WCF last summer.
You, like Occulo, realized that you’d never rise to the heights I had achieved. And, like Occulo, you began to resent me for it. The humility you showed me behind closed doors - the kind you showed to the public when the cameras were rolling - it was a farce, for neither of you wished to remain in my shadow. And...like Occulo...you knew you’d never be able to do so as long as you remained in the WCF.
Those injuries you sustained were nothing more than excuses you used to turn your backs on me. And, wouldn’t you know it, the man you’ve tethered yourself to upon your return - Joey Flash - was involved in each one. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn that Occulo was in on his mishap that sent him packing all along. He’s a good enough actor, anyway. He fooled us both, didn’t he Howard? And he continues to fool you to this day. He’s got you thinking what you’re after falls under the category of the achievable. But he’s wrong...as wrong as you are gullible. You aim to save me; to fix me...but there’s not fixing what isn’t broken. And this Sunday at Fifteen, there’ll be no fixing you when I’ve broken the fallen Sentinels and left you as corpses in the ring.
And how about your arm, Howard - did you pay off your new partner Flash to do the deed for you? If so it was the easiest money he ever made. Months ago, I would’ve never thought to question it. Now though...now that I’ve come to know the real Howard Black...anything seems possible. Like Occulo after Asesinato de Mayo, when I became the WCF World Champion, you became a shell of your former self as you watched me surpass you and all the others to retain the World Title at Ultimate Showdown. You were badly beaten - not only physically, but mentally. And in your weakened state of mind, you allowed fear to take hold...and you panicked.
Whether or not you struck a deal with Flash before you were set to defend your half of the tag titles against him and Jonny Fly is irrelevant. The underlying point is that you could have saved yourself. I watched from the locker room as my friend - my betrayer - found himself unable to fend off Flash and Fly, and yet, even as I fled for the ring, I knew you’d be out of harm’s way by the time I broke through the curtain. Then we’d unleash on them. It was going to be the jolt of life the Sentinels needed - the two of us knocking around the coward Joey Flash and the freshly pinned legend Johnny Fly. I was almost excited as I burst through the curtain...but all that faded as I saw you writhing in pain, still in the grips of Joey Flash.
What happened next...well, you remember. The mic caught every bit of your bone shattering as Joey wrenched away at it for a final time. That sound...I’ll never forget it. It was the sound of the end; the death knell of the Sentinels - something you not only allowed for, but wished for. And now, even though you willfully allowed your fate to fall into the hands of Joey Flash that night - even though you traitorously allowed Joey Flash to shatter your arm in front of the witless WCF Faithful - the Sentinels haven’t perished from the earth.
Now, only one remains.
You gave up the right to call yourself one the moment you fled the WCF. You’re not a Sentinel just like you aren’t my brother. You once were, but those days are gone, carried away like a bad memory on the wind. And soon, as in this Sunday at Fifteen, your legacy will be scattered to the wind after I -
“Reduce it all to ash.”
The whisper cuts him off, though it’s only he who hears it. A confused look comes over Howard’s face before the Jackal shoves the mirage aside and reappears as his normal, grey-suited self.
Jackal: You…?
Dune looks at him questioningly.
Jackal: After scattering Howard’s legacy to the wind, you...what?
Dune once more remains silent, and the Jackal approaches him slowly.
Jackal: What would you do to Howard Black were I to leave you alone with him this Sunday?
Dune: I’d punish him, as any man in his right mind who’s been betrayed would do.
Jackal: He stabbed you in the back.
Dune: And twisted the blade. He made sure to get it in good and deep, too. If only it had mattered…
I have no doubt Howard’s departure was meant to be a cruel twist of fate that would eventually lead to my downfall. But all it did was make me stronger, In his absence - in Occulo’s absence - I became a more powerful force than anyone could have foreseen. That applies especially to those two men who I was closest with throughout my original rise to power. Even they remained unaware of my true strength; of the amount of resolve I had stored away for dark times.
And dark times are what laid ahead of me. Dark times are ones I’d find myself in upon their abandonment. Dark times are what you’ve bestowed upon me since birth, Jackal.
The Jackal furrows his brow and takes another step toward Dune.
Dune: But in full knowledge of your might, I’m prepared to take my wrath out on those who remain firmly in my grip. Men such as Occulo; men such as Howard Black. And I promise you, should you leave me at the helm during my battle with the fallen Sentinels at Fifteen, you won’t be sorry.
Jackal: No...I won’t be.
The Jackal closes on Dune, coming to within a foot of his hulking form.
Jackal: Time to do a little digging. Be a lad, won’t you?
Dune doesn’t have time to respond before the Jackal places his hand atop his bald head. The camera shoots over the Jackal’s shoulder and down his arm. We don’t stop upon reaching his hand, and when we can go no further without passing through to Dune’s mind, we do just that.
Tiny sparks greet us in the darkness as light begins to spill through the roiling air. Suddenly the black clouds give way, revealing another image of the past.
Dune and Howard Black make their way down a hallway backstage at a WCF show in the weeks leading up to Ultimate Showdown. Dune towers over Howard as they walk alongside one another, though it doesn’t make Black seem any less formidable.
Dune: I still can’t believe he’s gone.
Howard Black: He’ll be back, and we’ll be fine in the time being. Don’t worry man.
Dune remains silent, and just before Howard calls him out on it, he speaks up.
Dune: Ultimate Showdown, Howie...what’s going to happen when we cross paths in the ring for the first time?
Howard Black: We’re going to battle it out for the World Title. May the best man win, that sort of thing.
They continue walking, and just before they come to a corner, Dune puts his arm out and comes to a stop alongside Howard. He looks down into his eyes as he speaks.
Dune: We’re going to live on...aren’t we, Howard? The Sentinels, I mean.
Howard Black: Of course! What could possibly get in our way?
Just then, a familiar face turns the corner in a rush, nearly spilling into Dune before nimbly dodging both of the Sentinels. He chuckles to see them.
Joey Flash: Pardon me, gentlemen...love to stop and chat, but I’ve got a match to win.
Flash shoots Dune a menacing glare before continuing on toward the ring. The two Sentinels watch him go, and as they turn back to one another, the image fades onto another…
We find ourselves in a lonely bar. Freeman sits on one barstool, and Dune sits an another. The old man downs a shot of tequila before his bloodshot eyes lock on with Dune’s.
Freeman: Go to his place. Go to Nebraska. Hell, you can be there in a few hours.
Dune: No...I don’t want to be intrusive. And besides, what would I even say?
Freeman: Bah! Intrusive...give me a break. You have concerns about Slam - about Howard going up against Jonny Fly and Joey Flash? Voice them. If I know Howard, he’ll listen.
Dune: But you don't know Howard.
Freeman: Who’s fault is that?
Dune: My point is, he won’t listen. He’s going to go at them with all he’s got, come hell or high water.
Freeman: Slam’s less than a week away. You might not see Howard until the show, and believe me, it’ll be better to get things off your chest before then.
Dune: But...
Freeman: Go.
The room begins to fade.
Freeman: Go.
Dune’s silhouette cuts through the darkness of a moonless night toward a house that glows from the inside out. It’s a pretty little thing, and the image of the almost-monstrous Dune approaching it seems all too surreal. He walks down a path toward Howard Black’s front door. When he reaches it, he takes a deep breath, exhales...though just before he knocks, the front door swings open.
There before him stands Howard Black’s wife, Sarah. Her head is turned inward as she calls out.
Sarah Black: Joey...be careful coming down the stairs! Howie - hurry up!
Howard Black: We’re coming, we’re coming.
Joey Black: We’re coming, we’re coming.
Dune, not wishing to invoke any sort of fright in the young family, as the sight of him there in the night most certainly would, dives out of the way. From the bushes, he scolds himself as he does his best to remain hidden. Joey Black comes running out of the house, followed by Sarah, followed by Howard himself.
He considers the ridiculousness of his situation, then imagines how even more ridiculous it would be to reveal himself now, just as the Black family goes out for a night on the town before daddy puts his career on the line against Jonny Fly and Joey Flash . He chuckles at himself as he watches the Blacks leave, and when they’re out of sight, he stands and makes his way toward the street.
Before he makes it there, black clouds take over the screen, though they linger for a moment, before -
CRACK!!!
The amplified sound of Howard Black’s arm breaking in two ushers in the light. We see what Dune sees, and a flurry of motion proceeds to unfold as we chase Joey Flash only to be put down by Jonny Fly.
Silence reigns as the echo of the arm-break fades, and suddenly we find ourselves in the ring looking down upon the unconscious body of Howard Black. Dune bends down and lifts him up, carrying Howard out of the ring and up the ramp. The crowd cheers for the Sentinels...though we, as Dune, hear nothing - nothing save a dull ring that grows louder and louder as we climb the ramp. Soon, Dune’s heartbeat becomes audible, and by the time he reaches the stage, it pulses at a furious rate.
We cut away, and a burst of earth-shattering crowd noise hits our ears as we watch the death march of the Sentinels unfold. Dune and Howard pass beneath the curtain, and once more the scene fades into silent darkness. After a few seconds, the voice of a man calls out.
Joey Flash: Where your friends at?
Before us sits Dune’s long-time rival in the days leading up to Revenge, when the New Yorker thought it wise to travel to the mojave in hopes of getting a grip on his future opponent.
Joey Flash: Where’s Occulo? Where’s Howard Black? How are they doing these days?
Dune: Quiet.
Joey Flash: I feel especially guilty about Howard...you know, what with shattering his arm and all.
Dune sets off toward Flash, who smiles to see it, but Freeman calls out.
Freeman: Dune! Sit the fuck down.
Joey Flash: Yeah...sit down, Dune. Sit down and I’ll tell you a little story. It’s about a man who loses everything at the hands of Joey motherfuckin Flash. I’ve already taken Occulo from you; I’ve already taken Howard Black...and now, all that’s left is the one who’s managed to evade me for the entire year; all that’s left is you.
Dune: He who loses everything gains all he could ever need: a target; someone to focus the whole of his anger upon. You’ve got enough of mine directed at you already, Joey. You couldn’t handle any more. Otherwise, you'd become the man who lost everything...and we both know you’ve got far more to lose than me.
Dune’s eyes remain locked on Flash as the camera moves away from the two men. We soon exit the spacious, spherical room, making our way down a long, well-lit hallway. Without warning we pass through a heavy steel-door to the outside. There, the cool desert night awaits us...as does the Jackal, who’s still yet to show himself to either of the two men whose lives he’ll wreck in the coming weeks.
Jackal: Joey Flash...yes, you’ll do...
He smiles, and as billowing black clouds take over the screen, so too does the sound of many voices whispering all at once. At first they’re unintelligible, until the same line we heard previously calls out once more.
“How’s it gonna end?”
No answer is given in reply, and the whispers continue until we hear the phrase again.
“How’s it gonna end?”
But the question goes unanswered for a second time, and the whispers fade as bright sunlight blasts away the shadow.
Dune stands on a ledge in the desert. Behind him, the Devil’s Maw, a town reclaimed by the rising fires of the inner-earth. Before him, an endless desert marked by death.
WAR XIV has come to pass.
One looms on the horizon, just shy of two months away.
And now, the Jackal’s grip around Dune is tighter than ever.
He’s alone, without even his mentor Freeman to talk to, should the old man detect the very real traces of the Jackal he can feel eating away at his mind even now. Yet as the newfound, artificially introduced hatred surges through him; as the fresh memories of Joey Flash’s tragic wedding day replay over and over in his mind, a familiar voice rings out beside it - one he’s longed to hear.
Freeman: Go...
With the word, he envisions none other than Howard Black. The image of the third Sentinel, for whom he would have given his life to ensure his safety, takes the place of the Jackal-induced horrors that occurred before WAR XIV.
Freeman: Go.
The next instant, Dune is walking up to the Black residence in Nebraska hours later. This time, he isn’t covered by dark of night...which makes his approaching the suburban dream home all the more unsettling.
He remembers the last time he showed up unannounced, and he makes a solemn vow not to let the preconceived notion that he’s less man than monster get the best of him again. As he nears Howard’s home, he speaks to himself in a hushed tone beneath the cover of his mask.
Dune: I know they’re out there - the rumors, swirling around. I’ve killed before...but a child, my God - and his no less. Most would believe their own self-serving narrative...but not you, Howard. You know better; you know me better.
Dune steps onto the drive as doubt begin to set in.
Dune: I hope…
He turns onto the pathway leading up to the front door and freezes. There, staring at him through the window, is Howard Black’s young son, Joey. The two have met before. “Uncle Dune” the boy had deemed him...but that was months ago, and Dune hasn’t seen him since long before WAR XIV; long before the Jackal did his worst.
For a fleeting moment, Dune stares back at the child...until finally, his eyes go wide with all-too-apparent fright of the monstrous man, and he dashes away from the glass.
Jackal: Do you think he knows?
Dune turns in horror to see the Jackal just out of view of the window.
Jackal: That you - ya know...Christian -
He slides a thumb across his throat as Dune charges him, making sure they’re both hidden from view of the front door, which he’s sure will burst open at any minute once young Joey Black has told his father about the monster outside.
Dune: What the fuck are you doing here?
Jackal: I’d ask you the same. Going back on your word, Dune?
Dune glares, but remains silent.
Jackal: Or were you here to take a little bit of that newfound hatred I’ve provided you out on your old pal, Howard Black?
Dune: Let’s go.
Jackal: I should have known you’d reach out to him. Consider this your last chance to do so, Dune, because I’ll never let you come back here again.
Sure enough, the front door swings open, though Dune and the Jackal remain hidden from view. The Jackal smiles to hear the silence that precedes a familiar voice.
Howard Black: Hello?
Dune pulls the Jackal in close and whispers.
Dune: Let’s go!
Jackal: You’re sure then?
The Jackal smiles as the scuttering of approaching footsteps grows louder.
We cut away to a wide shot of the Black residence, and just as Howard turns the corner where Dune and the Jackal stood not half a second before, he sees no one. He scans the street, and as he dons a confused look and turns around to head back inside, black clouds retake the frame.
The feeling of intense backward motion greets us once more, and we rush out of Dune’s mind just as the Jackal pulls his hand away from his bald head. He stands back, staring at the expressionless, temporarily spell-bound Dune.
Jackal: Speak of Howard now, Dune.
Once more, the Jackal takes on the image of Howard Black.
Jackal: Speak of the Howard you’ve come to realize isn’t your friend or your brother, but is in fact your mortal enemy. Speak of the man who would see you bend at the knee before you finally break at his feet.
Dune glares at the mirage before him, gazing deep into Howard’s false eyes as traces of the Jackal within him lock on to their master.
Dune: It’s over for you, Howard. Have you considered that? I’m sure you have. In fact, I imagine that’s one of the primary reasons you’re stepping in the ring with me. Bullshit you want to save me from whatever it is you think I need saving from - you want to an easy ticket out of the WCF. Your original plan with Joey wasn’t foolproof enough. Arms mend...and it’s much easier to fake a neck or back injury keeping you out than a sore arm. If you think you’re going to flop and allow me the pin after a few devastating slams though, Howard, you’ve vastly underestimated the very real - very warranted - ill-will I have for you and yours.
I sure hope that’s your plan though, Howard. I sure hope you aren’t truly out to play the role of hero at Fifteen. Because if either of the two of you put up a fight against me, I’m going to go all in on you traitorous motherfuckers. But then again, you can’t stand there like a dummy and expect me not to unleash on you. Stand and I’ll drop you to the mat; fight and I’ll outlast you every time.
It’s a lose-lose situation you’ve found yourself in this week, Howard. It’s a fight you can’t win. Two isn’t always twice of one. Simple math’s got nothing to do with it. And in the case of the fallen Sentinels against the pillar that’s been standing since our formation, there’s truly no comparison that sets the two of you as my equal. I’ve outdone you at every turn, save one, and this Sunday at Fifteen, I’m going to silence the doubters, if any still exist. I’m going to finish what Joey Flash started so long ago; what I thought I’d accomplished as I carried your broken body out of the ring the week after Ultimate Showdown, Howard. It was the death march of the Sentinels...until you and Occulo sought to respawn from the grave and play at partners - at brothers - once again…
Well that’s not how it works. That’s not how any of this works. It’s going to be a hard lesson to learn, but it’s one you’ll come away with all the same...should you be so lucky.
You don’t stand when you’re lying in the shadows, Howard...Occulo. You don’t stand when you've disassociated yourself with those you would call your brothers. You don’t stand after you’ve fled the only one left standing.
Dune takes a few slow steps toward the mirage.
Dune: No...then, you fall. And as the fallen...am I to stand for you? Am I to stand for your abandonment of your so-called brother when dark times befell us? Am I to stand for the way you would greet me months later, after far darker times had befallen me?
He comes to a stop a foot or so away from the Jackal’s Howard Black cosplay.
Dune: Am I to stand for Occulo’s unwillingness to acknowledge me that night at WAR XIV upon his return, or for never so much as hearing a whisper from him until One? Am I to stand for the blind-sided attacks you two laid on me that night and at the first Slam of the new year? Am I to -
Howard Black disappears as the Jackals slims down and grows a bit, taking on his own falsely human form.
Jackal: No...you’re aren’t to stand for it, Dune. But they are to fall for it. And we’ll see to it...I have no doubt.
Dune: Nor do I.
The Jackal grins.
Jackal: Would you like to know what’s become of your friends, Dune? And no, I don’t mean the false ones that stabbed you in the back. The old man, the dog...your girlfriend - the one with pink hair?
Dune: Yes. I’d like that.
Jackal: Ah...be right back…
We cut away with the Jackal, who finds himself just inside the tunnel where last we saw the badly injured trio of Freeman, Pinky, and Dune’s rottweiler. The Jackal clicks his tongue to see only smeared, sunbaked blood in their stead. Tire tracks lead away from the tunnel, and he follows them for a few steps before he stops, closes his eyes, and disappears.
We find ourselves high in the air, flying on the wings of a cardinal - the nearest creature to the fleeing trio, who speed toward a nearby hospital across the sands. The red bird swoops down, and in a few seconds it lands on the front of Freeman’s dune buggy. The bloodied old man smiles to see it.
Freeman: Look at that, boy - curious little fella.
The dog stirs in the back, and when he meets the cardinal’s eyes, he sees the Jackal staring back. The beast begins to bay, and he nearly lunges over the front bars of the buggy in an attempt to get at the possessed bird. It flies off as Freeman puts an arm out, and we follow the cardinal along its flight path.
The badly wounded trio and their buggy are far out of sight behind us when a new sight greets us on desert floor below. Two men who, to the Jackal’s well-trained eye, have no business being out here...
The next instant, we’re back in front of Dune. Hardly a moment has passed since he left, and he grins as he gazes upon Dune’s wretched face.
Jackal: They’re here.
Dune: Is she awake?
Jackal: Not them...they’re...fine. They should live. Maybe.
Dune: Did she -
Jackal: I’m not talking about her! I’m talking about Occulo; I’m talking about Howard Black. They’re here, Dune.
At their names, Dune’s face once more takes on a cold scowl.
Dune: So they’ve finally come.
Jackal: And all too late.
Dune: Just like the rest. They all come here to die. They all come here before the sandstorm buries them in the ring. They all come here before I -
“Reduce it all to ash.”
The whisper once more echoes through Dune’s mind, and his alone. The Jackal furrows his brow as he closes on him.
Jackal: I don’t want you to get your hopes up, Dune. We’re not going out to find Occulo and Howard Black. Not today.
He stops when he’s within an arm’s length of Dune.
Jackal: We’re going back to see Joey…
He cups his hand around one side of Dune’s butchered jaw.
Jackal: Little Joey Black.
Dune’s eyes go wide with reminiscent fear, but before he can react…
Jackal: Let me in.
The next moment, we find ourselves once more on the lawn of Howard Black. The sun has fallen on this haven of Nebraskan suburbia, and ⅔ of the Black family can be seen clearly through the window eating dinner. They’re bathed in a warm glow, and Dune screams from inside himself as the Jackal locks on with the weakest and most vulnerable of the mother and son combination - the young Joey Black.
Dune: NOOOO! Not again! Please, not again!
Jackal: And why not?
Dune: He doesn’t deserve it...he doesn’t -
Jackal: Then you’re as traitorous as them, to go back on your vow!
Dune: This is between me and Howard.
Jackal: No, Dune. It’s between me and you...and what I say is the law. I could take the child’s life, just as I’ve taken countless others. It would mean nothing to me, but everything to him. And, apparently, quite a lot to you as well.
Dune: Please - I’ll do anything. Just leave them alone.
Jackal: I can’t have you becoming a problem, Dune. Luckily for you, there’s a very simple solution for that.
Within himself, Dune goes quiet, stricken by a deep and dreamless sleep. The Jackal kneels on the lawn, speaking aloud through his host.
Dune: Sleep tight, Dune. Perhaps I’ll wake you for the match...or perhaps I’ll let you sleep for far longer...
It doesn’t matter whether or not I do. The results this Sunday will be the same either way: Occulo and Howard Black fall to a greater foe once more. Never before have I wished to engage two men so petty as yourselves in mortal combat. The thrill of simply talking about it gets my blood flowing - or, rather, my host’s blood. And should you manage to spill a drop of it, you’ll pay in liters and quarts. Don’t think for one second that you can stand against me this Sunday at Fifteen. Even if you were the Sentinels you claim to be, attempting to stand in the face of the -
Dune’s voice begins to fade, and the Jackal’s words become mumbled as we zoom in on his icy blue eyes. We speed up as we near, and suddenly, we shoot right through to a world of sub-cellular scale. Only darkness exists, but soon it’s replaced by the steady, persistent whispers of falling sand.
Sure enough, golden light pours onto the screen as we see Dune lying atop a growing mound of sand, as we did at the outset of this saga. His eyes remain closed, locked away in a deep and dreamless sleep as the fallings grains continue to pile atop his still frame. It spills out from the topside of the Reaper’s Hourglass, and soon his legs are covered...his waist; his abdomen...all buried beneath the sand...yet he remains oblivious to its weight.
Now his torso goes under. Now his neck; his chin…
The sand comes to cover his entire face, and when the final grains fall atop his buried, outstretched arms, we sink deep into the darkness with him.
Whispers arise in the depths, not those of more falling sand, but those of voices. They’re the same as before, unintelligible for the most part...until we hear a familiar phrase.
“How’s it gonna end”
A hand shoots down into the depths, grabbing hold of one of Dune’s arms. He wakes with its touch, only to find himself drowning in the sand. Another arm shoots down and grabs hold of his arm, and they begin to drag him upward. Dune identifies them without having to look. It's the Sentinels, Occulo and Howard Black, come to stand with him against the Jackal.
But beneath the weight of the whispering darkness, he still can’t breathe, and he begins to sink back down into the depths.
Hope fades. Light fails. And death seems to open it’s door…
“How’s it gonna end”
The whispers cease, and an all-encompassing silence prevails...
Until a third hand wraps around Dune's arm from above, and a single voice sounds in the silence.
Joey Flash: Reduce it all to ash.
Together, the three of them lift him as one...
Dune feels the weight give way.
He feels the air not far ahead.
And just as the darkness breaks...we cut.
We cut to the ground, where the three bodies are revealed.
Pinky, Freeman, and Dune’s massive rottweiler lie in a heap just inside a wide, steel-lined tunnel that leads into the mountain above them. Pinky is covered in blood, her feet mangled by the Jackal’s cruel handywork. Freeman, too, is covered in blood, and he continues to bleed thanks to the fresh mauling Dune’s rottweiler gave him when the Jackal took refuge within Freeman’s body. Meanwhile, the rottweiler himself doesn’t bleed, but he lies apparently broken after the Jackal flung him down the mountainside.
The vultures don’t know how their prey became such, nor do they care. They only want to know if they’re dead - or, rather, if they’re helpless enough to allow for the feasting to begin. One scopes the scene and chooses its target: the all-too-dead looking Pinky. The bird closes on her, and when she continues to lie motionless against the tunnel wall, it begins to peck at her hand...and peck...and in seeing their fellow bird tear off a chunk of flesh from her forearm, the other two vultures flock to the girl.
They’re so transfixed on the coming feast that they fail to notice when the eyes of the rottweiler shoot open at the commotion…
In an instant, one vulture is decapitated and flung against the wall just above Pinky’s head. Blood spews and feather fly as the remaining two dash away and flap their heavy wings. One flies free, and the other just barely manages to escape the snapping teeth of Dune’s rottweiler as he lunges at it.
From the ground, the beast bays wildly before it lets out a yelp of pain. He limps over to Pinky and begins to lick the fresh wounds on her palms and forearm, and the camera pans over and changes focus on the freshly mauled Freeman as his eyes begin to flutter open. As he awakens, we cut to his view.
Seeing the massive beast who’d just brought him to the brink of death does little to calm his nerves upon assessing the damage. All the same, he knows there's no time to waist, and he calls out to him in a leap of faith.
Freeman: Hey bud...come here, bud. It’s me. You remember me.
The dog turns, his eyes staring intensely through those of Freeman for the tell-tale signs of the Jackal. He approaches the ravaged old man slowly...but after a moment he sprints over and greets his old friend warmly.
Freeman: Alright, alright...get off me you fuck. Go to her.
The beast follows his finger, yet as he approaches Pinky, a scent catches his nose. Freeman watches as the dog puts his snout to the ground and begins to follow a set of large, bloody footprints that lead into the tunnel. He snaps at the hound.
Freeman: No! Stay.
Knowing he’s too weak to fight, as is the limping rottweiler before him, Freeman opts for the only feasible way he can help Dune for the time being - to flee with the hound and the girl; to save his oldest friend and his one true love. Somehow, he manages to find his feet. He meets the dog’s eyes as he snaps his fingers and points at Pinky .
Freeman: You stay with her, got it?
The beast lays his massive head down upon Pinky’s leg, and Freeman takes a deep breath before venturing out of the tunnel toward the buggy hidden beneath a tarp not far away.
When he’s out of sight, the beast sits up, and once more his nose sniffs out the bloody footprints that lead into the tunnel. He begins to venture toward the darkness, though just before he meets the shadow-line, he holds his ground and begins to snarl into it. His growls soon mix with the sound of an approaching dune buggy, and we zoom in from behind the dog before we’re bathed in silent darkness.
But the quiet doesn’t last long. Soon, the sound of whispering voices seeps into the shadow all around us. At first we can’t make out what they say...that is, until an all too familiar question rings out with clarity:
“How’s it gonna end?”
The unintelligible whispers continue, and they grow louder and louder until finally the darkness all around us disperses as if it were a cloud of black smoke. As it fades, we’re greeted with an image of the past.
Occulo sits beside the half-masked Dune high above the WCF stage. The two founding Sentinels had come together only one week before, when Dune saved Occulo from a vicious assault led by Joey Flash. Now, they overlook the ring as Flash fights alongside Katherine Phoenix against the pubescent Eve Vega and a man still relatively unknown to both the world and the Sentinels alike - a man by the name of Howard Black.
Occulo: He’s good.
Dune: Flash? I know. I saw the two of you at One this past year, even though I didn’t debut for another week.
Occulo: No, not Flash. The other one - what’s his name, Howard…?
Dune: Ah, Howard Black. Yeah -
The crowd “ooohs” as Black flies off the apron and lands a double axe-handle atop Flash’s skull.
Dune: - he’s damn good.
Occulo: To be able to stand toe to toe with Flash in his second bout...that’s saying something.
They continue to watch the match unfold, and both Occulo and Dune scowl as Flash eventually picks up the victory. But the crowd gives it up for Howard, who garners heartfelt cheers even as the enigma Eve Vega lies motionless at his feet.
Occulo: He’s the one. He’s our third Sentinel.
Dune eyes the dogged, determined look on Howard’s face as he walks back up the ramp before responding.
Dune: Yes...yes, I think you’re right.
Howard passes out of sight behind the curtain as the silhouettes of the Sentinels look on.
After a moment, darkness begins to seep in from all sides, and before long we’re left in shadow once more. The feeling of intense backward motion follows, until finally we pass through and out of the pit of an eye enwrapped by an all-too-familiar shade of icy blue.
As we zoom out from the face of Dune, a curious smile comes over his lips. It’s not Dune, himself, who puts it there; it’s the Jackal, who’s taken control of Dune’s form. Meanwhile, the conscious-Dune remains trapped inside himself, helpless as the Jackal scours through the annals of his experience.
Dune: Is that all it took?
The Jackal shakes his head, and we continue to zoom out until Dune’s entire frame comes into view.
Dune: Seeing Howard Black lose was what made the two of you decide he was worthy of your partnership? Unbelievable. It’s no wonder why your bonds hardly lasted three months. You were cut from the same cloth - the kind that frays and fails time and time again.
You fail in the ring, and you fail outside of it. Even your methods of choosing teammates lends you to criticism and doubt. You should know that I doubt you, Dune. Others may say you can, but I’m telling you that you can’t...at least not without me by your side. And don’t worry, Dune, because that’s exactly where I’ll be this Sunday.
He stands and holds out his arms.
Dune: Right here.
The camera zooms in on his face slowly as his arms go back to his sides. It comes to a stop a few feet away, and the Jackal continues speaking vicariously through the former WCF World Champion.
Dune: Those who should be worried, however, are Occulo and Howard Black. Knowing the cowardice that runs rampant through Dune’s original partner, Occulo, he’s never regretted drawing the attention of a greater foe worse than he does now. He doesn’t fully realize what awaits him at Fifteen. He’s used to paddlings over daddy’s knee, but what he’s set to receive by my hand - by the hand of the partner he betrayed - will make all that seem like child’s play.
Howard Black’s worried too...no doubt about it. He’s been worried his whole life, though always of the wrong thing. You see, Howard’s not worried about the very real possibility of dying this Sunday, or at the very least receiving a beating as close to fatal as can possibly achieved without crossing the mortal threshold...no. He’s worried about not being able to save Dune from me.
The Jackal laughs, but he stifles himself quickly before Dune’s face goes sour.
Dune: You’re a damned fool, Howard. And this Sunday, you’ll be treated as such.
How dare you plot and scheme against me. It only proves my point that you and big brother Dune and your sniveling little brother Occulo were cut from the same cloth. Dune tried his damndest to get the best of me...look at him now. And now I come to find that you and Occulo have hatched a plan against me - naive as you may be in your true knowledge of what lurks beneath the dark waters you wade in - a plan to rid me of my host; to rid of me for good.
The Jackal turns away from the screen in disgust as he continues through Dune.
Dune: But don’t take my word for it, Howard. Nor you, Occulo. The disdain - the hate - he has for you is very real. Have a look; have a listen.
With his back to us, Dune reaches up and feels his face. At the same time, the camera slowly rotates, revealing a dapper, grey-suited gentleman grinning wryly before him: the Jackal, having just departed the hulking frame of his favorite puppet.
The camera continues to rotate, until finally we gaze head on at Dune. Seemingly unencumbered by the Jackal, a rage fills Dune’s eyes as thoughts of his former Sentinel brothers run through his mind. Seething in anger, he stares ahead at the Jackal as if waiting for him to speak. After a long moment, he does.
Jackal: Occulo.
Dune: The first to fall.
Jackal: Howard Black.
Dune: The hardest to fall.
The Jackal smiles to hear traces of himself speaking for Dune - the Jackal-induced sickness in full effect.
Jackal: Go on...ah, as a matter of fact, speak to him directly. Here, allow me.
Just then, the Jackal’s form changes to none other than that of Howard Black. Dune eases to see the mirage of the third Sentinel standing before him.
Dune: Howard...
With the word, his face dons a cold scowl as if on cue, and he gazes into Howard’s false eyes as he continues.
Dune: Howard Black.
Do you remember me, Howard? I’m the man you swore your vow of allegiance to all those months ago; the man to whom you promised to stand for the fallen and against the rising. It’s funny...I suppose Occulo was unable - or perhaps unwilling - to recognize that my rise to the top was inevitable when he came up with those words. And when I finally did rise higher than all the rest, his words were made meaningless. For soon, he would become the fallen - and you would become the man who had pledged himself under a traitor’s vow. And even now, the two of you say those long-dead words with something close to pride:
The Sentinels stand for the fallen; the Sentinels stand against the rising.
And what of the risen, Howard? If history is any indication, the Sentinels discard him. The Sentinels leave him to fend for himself amongst the wolves. The Sentinels fall in the face of the risen - that’s how the words go. Because after I won the World Title - after Occulo became the shell he exists as today - you weren’t long in following in his treacherous abandonment of your so-called “brother.”
He scowls harder and takes a step toward Howard, who wears the Jackal’s grin as Dune continues.
Dune: Your brother - how dare you refer to me as such. You were hardly a friend, let alone a brother. You put on a good show though. So good, in fact, that I was fooled into believing you and Occulo had the group’s best interests at heart. After all, what’s the point of banding together if one of us flees at the first sign of trouble; if another flees when the same troubles befall him. And what were those troubles, Howard? For Occulo, as it was for you, the one thing you couldn’t come to grips with was my complete and utter domination of the WCF last summer.
You, like Occulo, realized that you’d never rise to the heights I had achieved. And, like Occulo, you began to resent me for it. The humility you showed me behind closed doors - the kind you showed to the public when the cameras were rolling - it was a farce, for neither of you wished to remain in my shadow. And...like Occulo...you knew you’d never be able to do so as long as you remained in the WCF.
Those injuries you sustained were nothing more than excuses you used to turn your backs on me. And, wouldn’t you know it, the man you’ve tethered yourself to upon your return - Joey Flash - was involved in each one. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn that Occulo was in on his mishap that sent him packing all along. He’s a good enough actor, anyway. He fooled us both, didn’t he Howard? And he continues to fool you to this day. He’s got you thinking what you’re after falls under the category of the achievable. But he’s wrong...as wrong as you are gullible. You aim to save me; to fix me...but there’s not fixing what isn’t broken. And this Sunday at Fifteen, there’ll be no fixing you when I’ve broken the fallen Sentinels and left you as corpses in the ring.
And how about your arm, Howard - did you pay off your new partner Flash to do the deed for you? If so it was the easiest money he ever made. Months ago, I would’ve never thought to question it. Now though...now that I’ve come to know the real Howard Black...anything seems possible. Like Occulo after Asesinato de Mayo, when I became the WCF World Champion, you became a shell of your former self as you watched me surpass you and all the others to retain the World Title at Ultimate Showdown. You were badly beaten - not only physically, but mentally. And in your weakened state of mind, you allowed fear to take hold...and you panicked.
Whether or not you struck a deal with Flash before you were set to defend your half of the tag titles against him and Jonny Fly is irrelevant. The underlying point is that you could have saved yourself. I watched from the locker room as my friend - my betrayer - found himself unable to fend off Flash and Fly, and yet, even as I fled for the ring, I knew you’d be out of harm’s way by the time I broke through the curtain. Then we’d unleash on them. It was going to be the jolt of life the Sentinels needed - the two of us knocking around the coward Joey Flash and the freshly pinned legend Johnny Fly. I was almost excited as I burst through the curtain...but all that faded as I saw you writhing in pain, still in the grips of Joey Flash.
What happened next...well, you remember. The mic caught every bit of your bone shattering as Joey wrenched away at it for a final time. That sound...I’ll never forget it. It was the sound of the end; the death knell of the Sentinels - something you not only allowed for, but wished for. And now, even though you willfully allowed your fate to fall into the hands of Joey Flash that night - even though you traitorously allowed Joey Flash to shatter your arm in front of the witless WCF Faithful - the Sentinels haven’t perished from the earth.
Now, only one remains.
You gave up the right to call yourself one the moment you fled the WCF. You’re not a Sentinel just like you aren’t my brother. You once were, but those days are gone, carried away like a bad memory on the wind. And soon, as in this Sunday at Fifteen, your legacy will be scattered to the wind after I -
“Reduce it all to ash.”
The whisper cuts him off, though it’s only he who hears it. A confused look comes over Howard’s face before the Jackal shoves the mirage aside and reappears as his normal, grey-suited self.
Jackal: You…?
Dune looks at him questioningly.
Jackal: After scattering Howard’s legacy to the wind, you...what?
Dune once more remains silent, and the Jackal approaches him slowly.
Jackal: What would you do to Howard Black were I to leave you alone with him this Sunday?
Dune: I’d punish him, as any man in his right mind who’s been betrayed would do.
Jackal: He stabbed you in the back.
Dune: And twisted the blade. He made sure to get it in good and deep, too. If only it had mattered…
I have no doubt Howard’s departure was meant to be a cruel twist of fate that would eventually lead to my downfall. But all it did was make me stronger, In his absence - in Occulo’s absence - I became a more powerful force than anyone could have foreseen. That applies especially to those two men who I was closest with throughout my original rise to power. Even they remained unaware of my true strength; of the amount of resolve I had stored away for dark times.
And dark times are what laid ahead of me. Dark times are ones I’d find myself in upon their abandonment. Dark times are what you’ve bestowed upon me since birth, Jackal.
The Jackal furrows his brow and takes another step toward Dune.
Dune: But in full knowledge of your might, I’m prepared to take my wrath out on those who remain firmly in my grip. Men such as Occulo; men such as Howard Black. And I promise you, should you leave me at the helm during my battle with the fallen Sentinels at Fifteen, you won’t be sorry.
Jackal: No...I won’t be.
The Jackal closes on Dune, coming to within a foot of his hulking form.
Jackal: Time to do a little digging. Be a lad, won’t you?
Dune doesn’t have time to respond before the Jackal places his hand atop his bald head. The camera shoots over the Jackal’s shoulder and down his arm. We don’t stop upon reaching his hand, and when we can go no further without passing through to Dune’s mind, we do just that.
Tiny sparks greet us in the darkness as light begins to spill through the roiling air. Suddenly the black clouds give way, revealing another image of the past.
Dune and Howard Black make their way down a hallway backstage at a WCF show in the weeks leading up to Ultimate Showdown. Dune towers over Howard as they walk alongside one another, though it doesn’t make Black seem any less formidable.
Dune: I still can’t believe he’s gone.
Howard Black: He’ll be back, and we’ll be fine in the time being. Don’t worry man.
Dune remains silent, and just before Howard calls him out on it, he speaks up.
Dune: Ultimate Showdown, Howie...what’s going to happen when we cross paths in the ring for the first time?
Howard Black: We’re going to battle it out for the World Title. May the best man win, that sort of thing.
They continue walking, and just before they come to a corner, Dune puts his arm out and comes to a stop alongside Howard. He looks down into his eyes as he speaks.
Dune: We’re going to live on...aren’t we, Howard? The Sentinels, I mean.
Howard Black: Of course! What could possibly get in our way?
Just then, a familiar face turns the corner in a rush, nearly spilling into Dune before nimbly dodging both of the Sentinels. He chuckles to see them.
Joey Flash: Pardon me, gentlemen...love to stop and chat, but I’ve got a match to win.
Flash shoots Dune a menacing glare before continuing on toward the ring. The two Sentinels watch him go, and as they turn back to one another, the image fades onto another…
We find ourselves in a lonely bar. Freeman sits on one barstool, and Dune sits an another. The old man downs a shot of tequila before his bloodshot eyes lock on with Dune’s.
Freeman: Go to his place. Go to Nebraska. Hell, you can be there in a few hours.
Dune: No...I don’t want to be intrusive. And besides, what would I even say?
Freeman: Bah! Intrusive...give me a break. You have concerns about Slam - about Howard going up against Jonny Fly and Joey Flash? Voice them. If I know Howard, he’ll listen.
Dune: But you don't know Howard.
Freeman: Who’s fault is that?
Dune: My point is, he won’t listen. He’s going to go at them with all he’s got, come hell or high water.
Freeman: Slam’s less than a week away. You might not see Howard until the show, and believe me, it’ll be better to get things off your chest before then.
Dune: But...
Freeman: Go.
The room begins to fade.
Freeman: Go.
Dune’s silhouette cuts through the darkness of a moonless night toward a house that glows from the inside out. It’s a pretty little thing, and the image of the almost-monstrous Dune approaching it seems all too surreal. He walks down a path toward Howard Black’s front door. When he reaches it, he takes a deep breath, exhales...though just before he knocks, the front door swings open.
There before him stands Howard Black’s wife, Sarah. Her head is turned inward as she calls out.
Sarah Black: Joey...be careful coming down the stairs! Howie - hurry up!
Howard Black: We’re coming, we’re coming.
Joey Black: We’re coming, we’re coming.
Dune, not wishing to invoke any sort of fright in the young family, as the sight of him there in the night most certainly would, dives out of the way. From the bushes, he scolds himself as he does his best to remain hidden. Joey Black comes running out of the house, followed by Sarah, followed by Howard himself.
He considers the ridiculousness of his situation, then imagines how even more ridiculous it would be to reveal himself now, just as the Black family goes out for a night on the town before daddy puts his career on the line against Jonny Fly and Joey Flash . He chuckles at himself as he watches the Blacks leave, and when they’re out of sight, he stands and makes his way toward the street.
Before he makes it there, black clouds take over the screen, though they linger for a moment, before -
CRACK!!!
The amplified sound of Howard Black’s arm breaking in two ushers in the light. We see what Dune sees, and a flurry of motion proceeds to unfold as we chase Joey Flash only to be put down by Jonny Fly.
Silence reigns as the echo of the arm-break fades, and suddenly we find ourselves in the ring looking down upon the unconscious body of Howard Black. Dune bends down and lifts him up, carrying Howard out of the ring and up the ramp. The crowd cheers for the Sentinels...though we, as Dune, hear nothing - nothing save a dull ring that grows louder and louder as we climb the ramp. Soon, Dune’s heartbeat becomes audible, and by the time he reaches the stage, it pulses at a furious rate.
We cut away, and a burst of earth-shattering crowd noise hits our ears as we watch the death march of the Sentinels unfold. Dune and Howard pass beneath the curtain, and once more the scene fades into silent darkness. After a few seconds, the voice of a man calls out.
Joey Flash: Where your friends at?
Before us sits Dune’s long-time rival in the days leading up to Revenge, when the New Yorker thought it wise to travel to the mojave in hopes of getting a grip on his future opponent.
Joey Flash: Where’s Occulo? Where’s Howard Black? How are they doing these days?
Dune: Quiet.
Joey Flash: I feel especially guilty about Howard...you know, what with shattering his arm and all.
Dune sets off toward Flash, who smiles to see it, but Freeman calls out.
Freeman: Dune! Sit the fuck down.
Joey Flash: Yeah...sit down, Dune. Sit down and I’ll tell you a little story. It’s about a man who loses everything at the hands of Joey motherfuckin Flash. I’ve already taken Occulo from you; I’ve already taken Howard Black...and now, all that’s left is the one who’s managed to evade me for the entire year; all that’s left is you.
Dune: He who loses everything gains all he could ever need: a target; someone to focus the whole of his anger upon. You’ve got enough of mine directed at you already, Joey. You couldn’t handle any more. Otherwise, you'd become the man who lost everything...and we both know you’ve got far more to lose than me.
Dune’s eyes remain locked on Flash as the camera moves away from the two men. We soon exit the spacious, spherical room, making our way down a long, well-lit hallway. Without warning we pass through a heavy steel-door to the outside. There, the cool desert night awaits us...as does the Jackal, who’s still yet to show himself to either of the two men whose lives he’ll wreck in the coming weeks.
Jackal: Joey Flash...yes, you’ll do...
He smiles, and as billowing black clouds take over the screen, so too does the sound of many voices whispering all at once. At first they’re unintelligible, until the same line we heard previously calls out once more.
“How’s it gonna end?”
No answer is given in reply, and the whispers continue until we hear the phrase again.
“How’s it gonna end?”
But the question goes unanswered for a second time, and the whispers fade as bright sunlight blasts away the shadow.
Dune stands on a ledge in the desert. Behind him, the Devil’s Maw, a town reclaimed by the rising fires of the inner-earth. Before him, an endless desert marked by death.
WAR XIV has come to pass.
One looms on the horizon, just shy of two months away.
And now, the Jackal’s grip around Dune is tighter than ever.
He’s alone, without even his mentor Freeman to talk to, should the old man detect the very real traces of the Jackal he can feel eating away at his mind even now. Yet as the newfound, artificially introduced hatred surges through him; as the fresh memories of Joey Flash’s tragic wedding day replay over and over in his mind, a familiar voice rings out beside it - one he’s longed to hear.
Freeman: Go...
With the word, he envisions none other than Howard Black. The image of the third Sentinel, for whom he would have given his life to ensure his safety, takes the place of the Jackal-induced horrors that occurred before WAR XIV.
Freeman: Go.
The next instant, Dune is walking up to the Black residence in Nebraska hours later. This time, he isn’t covered by dark of night...which makes his approaching the suburban dream home all the more unsettling.
He remembers the last time he showed up unannounced, and he makes a solemn vow not to let the preconceived notion that he’s less man than monster get the best of him again. As he nears Howard’s home, he speaks to himself in a hushed tone beneath the cover of his mask.
Dune: I know they’re out there - the rumors, swirling around. I’ve killed before...but a child, my God - and his no less. Most would believe their own self-serving narrative...but not you, Howard. You know better; you know me better.
Dune steps onto the drive as doubt begin to set in.
Dune: I hope…
He turns onto the pathway leading up to the front door and freezes. There, staring at him through the window, is Howard Black’s young son, Joey. The two have met before. “Uncle Dune” the boy had deemed him...but that was months ago, and Dune hasn’t seen him since long before WAR XIV; long before the Jackal did his worst.
For a fleeting moment, Dune stares back at the child...until finally, his eyes go wide with all-too-apparent fright of the monstrous man, and he dashes away from the glass.
Jackal: Do you think he knows?
Dune turns in horror to see the Jackal just out of view of the window.
Jackal: That you - ya know...Christian -
He slides a thumb across his throat as Dune charges him, making sure they’re both hidden from view of the front door, which he’s sure will burst open at any minute once young Joey Black has told his father about the monster outside.
Dune: What the fuck are you doing here?
Jackal: I’d ask you the same. Going back on your word, Dune?
Dune glares, but remains silent.
Jackal: Or were you here to take a little bit of that newfound hatred I’ve provided you out on your old pal, Howard Black?
Dune: Let’s go.
Jackal: I should have known you’d reach out to him. Consider this your last chance to do so, Dune, because I’ll never let you come back here again.
Sure enough, the front door swings open, though Dune and the Jackal remain hidden from view. The Jackal smiles to hear the silence that precedes a familiar voice.
Howard Black: Hello?
Dune pulls the Jackal in close and whispers.
Dune: Let’s go!
Jackal: You’re sure then?
The Jackal smiles as the scuttering of approaching footsteps grows louder.
We cut away to a wide shot of the Black residence, and just as Howard turns the corner where Dune and the Jackal stood not half a second before, he sees no one. He scans the street, and as he dons a confused look and turns around to head back inside, black clouds retake the frame.
The feeling of intense backward motion greets us once more, and we rush out of Dune’s mind just as the Jackal pulls his hand away from his bald head. He stands back, staring at the expressionless, temporarily spell-bound Dune.
Jackal: Speak of Howard now, Dune.
Once more, the Jackal takes on the image of Howard Black.
Jackal: Speak of the Howard you’ve come to realize isn’t your friend or your brother, but is in fact your mortal enemy. Speak of the man who would see you bend at the knee before you finally break at his feet.
Dune glares at the mirage before him, gazing deep into Howard’s false eyes as traces of the Jackal within him lock on to their master.
Dune: It’s over for you, Howard. Have you considered that? I’m sure you have. In fact, I imagine that’s one of the primary reasons you’re stepping in the ring with me. Bullshit you want to save me from whatever it is you think I need saving from - you want to an easy ticket out of the WCF. Your original plan with Joey wasn’t foolproof enough. Arms mend...and it’s much easier to fake a neck or back injury keeping you out than a sore arm. If you think you’re going to flop and allow me the pin after a few devastating slams though, Howard, you’ve vastly underestimated the very real - very warranted - ill-will I have for you and yours.
I sure hope that’s your plan though, Howard. I sure hope you aren’t truly out to play the role of hero at Fifteen. Because if either of the two of you put up a fight against me, I’m going to go all in on you traitorous motherfuckers. But then again, you can’t stand there like a dummy and expect me not to unleash on you. Stand and I’ll drop you to the mat; fight and I’ll outlast you every time.
It’s a lose-lose situation you’ve found yourself in this week, Howard. It’s a fight you can’t win. Two isn’t always twice of one. Simple math’s got nothing to do with it. And in the case of the fallen Sentinels against the pillar that’s been standing since our formation, there’s truly no comparison that sets the two of you as my equal. I’ve outdone you at every turn, save one, and this Sunday at Fifteen, I’m going to silence the doubters, if any still exist. I’m going to finish what Joey Flash started so long ago; what I thought I’d accomplished as I carried your broken body out of the ring the week after Ultimate Showdown, Howard. It was the death march of the Sentinels...until you and Occulo sought to respawn from the grave and play at partners - at brothers - once again…
Well that’s not how it works. That’s not how any of this works. It’s going to be a hard lesson to learn, but it’s one you’ll come away with all the same...should you be so lucky.
You don’t stand when you’re lying in the shadows, Howard...Occulo. You don’t stand when you've disassociated yourself with those you would call your brothers. You don’t stand after you’ve fled the only one left standing.
Dune takes a few slow steps toward the mirage.
Dune: No...then, you fall. And as the fallen...am I to stand for you? Am I to stand for your abandonment of your so-called brother when dark times befell us? Am I to stand for the way you would greet me months later, after far darker times had befallen me?
He comes to a stop a foot or so away from the Jackal’s Howard Black cosplay.
Dune: Am I to stand for Occulo’s unwillingness to acknowledge me that night at WAR XIV upon his return, or for never so much as hearing a whisper from him until One? Am I to stand for the blind-sided attacks you two laid on me that night and at the first Slam of the new year? Am I to -
Howard Black disappears as the Jackals slims down and grows a bit, taking on his own falsely human form.
Jackal: No...you’re aren’t to stand for it, Dune. But they are to fall for it. And we’ll see to it...I have no doubt.
Dune: Nor do I.
The Jackal grins.
Jackal: Would you like to know what’s become of your friends, Dune? And no, I don’t mean the false ones that stabbed you in the back. The old man, the dog...your girlfriend - the one with pink hair?
Dune: Yes. I’d like that.
Jackal: Ah...be right back…
We cut away with the Jackal, who finds himself just inside the tunnel where last we saw the badly injured trio of Freeman, Pinky, and Dune’s rottweiler. The Jackal clicks his tongue to see only smeared, sunbaked blood in their stead. Tire tracks lead away from the tunnel, and he follows them for a few steps before he stops, closes his eyes, and disappears.
We find ourselves high in the air, flying on the wings of a cardinal - the nearest creature to the fleeing trio, who speed toward a nearby hospital across the sands. The red bird swoops down, and in a few seconds it lands on the front of Freeman’s dune buggy. The bloodied old man smiles to see it.
Freeman: Look at that, boy - curious little fella.
The dog stirs in the back, and when he meets the cardinal’s eyes, he sees the Jackal staring back. The beast begins to bay, and he nearly lunges over the front bars of the buggy in an attempt to get at the possessed bird. It flies off as Freeman puts an arm out, and we follow the cardinal along its flight path.
The badly wounded trio and their buggy are far out of sight behind us when a new sight greets us on desert floor below. Two men who, to the Jackal’s well-trained eye, have no business being out here...
The next instant, we’re back in front of Dune. Hardly a moment has passed since he left, and he grins as he gazes upon Dune’s wretched face.
Jackal: They’re here.
Dune: Is she awake?
Jackal: Not them...they’re...fine. They should live. Maybe.
Dune: Did she -
Jackal: I’m not talking about her! I’m talking about Occulo; I’m talking about Howard Black. They’re here, Dune.
At their names, Dune’s face once more takes on a cold scowl.
Dune: So they’ve finally come.
Jackal: And all too late.
Dune: Just like the rest. They all come here to die. They all come here before the sandstorm buries them in the ring. They all come here before I -
“Reduce it all to ash.”
The whisper once more echoes through Dune’s mind, and his alone. The Jackal furrows his brow as he closes on him.
Jackal: I don’t want you to get your hopes up, Dune. We’re not going out to find Occulo and Howard Black. Not today.
He stops when he’s within an arm’s length of Dune.
Jackal: We’re going back to see Joey…
He cups his hand around one side of Dune’s butchered jaw.
Jackal: Little Joey Black.
Dune’s eyes go wide with reminiscent fear, but before he can react…
Jackal: Let me in.
The next moment, we find ourselves once more on the lawn of Howard Black. The sun has fallen on this haven of Nebraskan suburbia, and ⅔ of the Black family can be seen clearly through the window eating dinner. They’re bathed in a warm glow, and Dune screams from inside himself as the Jackal locks on with the weakest and most vulnerable of the mother and son combination - the young Joey Black.
Dune: NOOOO! Not again! Please, not again!
Jackal: And why not?
Dune: He doesn’t deserve it...he doesn’t -
Jackal: Then you’re as traitorous as them, to go back on your vow!
Dune: This is between me and Howard.
Jackal: No, Dune. It’s between me and you...and what I say is the law. I could take the child’s life, just as I’ve taken countless others. It would mean nothing to me, but everything to him. And, apparently, quite a lot to you as well.
Dune: Please - I’ll do anything. Just leave them alone.
Jackal: I can’t have you becoming a problem, Dune. Luckily for you, there’s a very simple solution for that.
Within himself, Dune goes quiet, stricken by a deep and dreamless sleep. The Jackal kneels on the lawn, speaking aloud through his host.
Dune: Sleep tight, Dune. Perhaps I’ll wake you for the match...or perhaps I’ll let you sleep for far longer...
It doesn’t matter whether or not I do. The results this Sunday will be the same either way: Occulo and Howard Black fall to a greater foe once more. Never before have I wished to engage two men so petty as yourselves in mortal combat. The thrill of simply talking about it gets my blood flowing - or, rather, my host’s blood. And should you manage to spill a drop of it, you’ll pay in liters and quarts. Don’t think for one second that you can stand against me this Sunday at Fifteen. Even if you were the Sentinels you claim to be, attempting to stand in the face of the -
Dune’s voice begins to fade, and the Jackal’s words become mumbled as we zoom in on his icy blue eyes. We speed up as we near, and suddenly, we shoot right through to a world of sub-cellular scale. Only darkness exists, but soon it’s replaced by the steady, persistent whispers of falling sand.
Sure enough, golden light pours onto the screen as we see Dune lying atop a growing mound of sand, as we did at the outset of this saga. His eyes remain closed, locked away in a deep and dreamless sleep as the fallings grains continue to pile atop his still frame. It spills out from the topside of the Reaper’s Hourglass, and soon his legs are covered...his waist; his abdomen...all buried beneath the sand...yet he remains oblivious to its weight.
Now his torso goes under. Now his neck; his chin…
The sand comes to cover his entire face, and when the final grains fall atop his buried, outstretched arms, we sink deep into the darkness with him.
Whispers arise in the depths, not those of more falling sand, but those of voices. They’re the same as before, unintelligible for the most part...until we hear a familiar phrase.
“How’s it gonna end”
A hand shoots down into the depths, grabbing hold of one of Dune’s arms. He wakes with its touch, only to find himself drowning in the sand. Another arm shoots down and grabs hold of his arm, and they begin to drag him upward. Dune identifies them without having to look. It's the Sentinels, Occulo and Howard Black, come to stand with him against the Jackal.
But beneath the weight of the whispering darkness, he still can’t breathe, and he begins to sink back down into the depths.
Hope fades. Light fails. And death seems to open it’s door…
“How’s it gonna end”
The whispers cease, and an all-encompassing silence prevails...
Until a third hand wraps around Dune's arm from above, and a single voice sounds in the silence.
Joey Flash: Reduce it all to ash.
Together, the three of them lift him as one...
Dune feels the weight give way.
He feels the air not far ahead.
And just as the darkness breaks...we cut.
