Heart of the Sun II: The Red Prince
Jul 13, 2018 18:49:52 GMT -5
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Post by God King Dune on Jul 13, 2018 18:49:52 GMT -5
Night has fallen on Friday the 13th, and we find ourselves atop the Ubehebe Crater in the middle of the Mojave Desert. Dead outlaws are scattered within the crater itself, trampled by their fleeing cohorts mere moments before. It was a haunting roar that dispersed them, a deep vibration, both of which grew in intensity as a subterranean monster rose up through the earth. By the time it breached the surface, only one remained to see the great Sandworm of the Mojave...only one remained to latch on to its back and hitch a ride toward the center of the earth.
A roar emits from a massive hole in the ground atop the crater, and we zoom in on it before plunging into the depths. After a moment we catch up with the wool-covered tail of the beast. In traveling the remaining two miles of its length over the course of a few seconds, we catch up with the WCF World Champion.
Dune hangs on to the water-filled fur of the worm, regretting his decision more and more with every mile he descends.
“Great job, pal,” he thinks to himself. “Good work. Even if you do manage to stop the seismic activity the worms are kicking up in time to allow XIII night two to continue, how the fuck do you expect to get back to the surface. Bravo, kid.”
His mind says the last bit in Freeman’s voice, and he can’t but chuckle at how the old man would react if he could see the lengths he was going to in order to ensure his World Title match with Teo Del Sol went off without a hitch the next night.
The beast continues to dive, and Dune sarcastically calls out to it.
Dune: What’s the destination here big fella? Where the fuck are we?
A deep laugh silences him, and he grips the worm’s fur tighter as a voice calls out in response.
“I think you know where you are!”
Dune: What the -
“You’re on the back of the worm!”
Dune stays low as the earth before him crumbles in the path of the great worm and flies over the top of his head. Meanwhile the voice continues, and he listens as it takes on a musical quality, singing out strange lyrics.
“On back of the worm. On back of the worm. On back of the worm. On back of the - ”
Dune interrupts the captivating song.
Dune: You can...talk?
But, despite his current predicament, it dawns on him just how far fetched the notion is as the same deep laughter reaches his ears, and the voice calls out in response.
“That’s not the worm, Dune. It’s me, the Child. The Red Prince. Surely you’ve heard of me.”
Dune: I...can’t say that I have. How can you hear me right now?
Red Prince: Oh, there are ways and ways. As for your other question, the one about where you’re headed...I’ll tell you. You’re headed to the gateway. You’re headed to The Maw. I’ll be holding court by the time you arrive, and it just so happens I know exactly why you’re here. Hurry along now!
Dune: Wait, how do I find -
Red Prince: Watch your head!
He sits up a bit too high, and a huge chunk of earth smashes into his face, rendering him unconscious. Almost simultaneously, the worm breaks free from the sea of solid rock it tears through, and we cut to a wideshot as it freefalls through a colossal cavern within the earth, down toward a strange castle that sits on a dark, desolate plane.
The worm wriggles and writhes as gravity does what gravity does best. The only thing keeping Dune from flying off is a knot of worm-hair tied around his wrist. Finally, when the worm slams into solid ground again, the knots loosen, and he ragdolls off its back before it dig back into the ground, kicking up more of the seismic waves that have California officials demanding XIII night two be cancelled.
But Dune has other plans, and after regaining consciousness, he sits up and takes a look around.
Dune: The Maw, I presume?
It’s a barren place marked by a flat plane of rust-red earth and darkness above. The only source of light is the only landmark to be seen: a sprawling castle looming in the distance. He stands up, shakes off the cobwebs, and starts for it as his deep voice booms through his mask.
Dune: The things I do for love, Teo.
Don't mistake my meaning. I have no love for you, Teo. You’re fine, hard to love by any stretch of the imagination, but I respect you all the same. Even if you’ve dug yourself a hole so deep you might never climb out of it. You might as well be down here with me for that matter. Thing is, come Hell or high water, I’ll find my way back to the surface - back to the top, just like I did at Battle for New York after three years without the World Title around my waist. Of course, I was only under contract for a few months between reigns, but that’s beside the point. All you need to know is our match tomorrow and XIII night two is in good hands, and it’s because of my love for the fight, my love for the World Title.
Just look at where I am, Teo. Few others would venture so far beneath the earth just to make sure a goddamn wrestling match goes down as scheduled. I’m down here to put an end to the tremors that have been rocking the crater since XIII was announced. I’m down here to ensure the safety of the WCF Faithful. I’m down here for you, Teo, to make sure you get your shot at the belt, even if I’m right about you not being keen on the idea of facing me for it. But most of all, I’m down here for me. Selfish, I know.
I’d go to the ends of the earth to see this through. I’d go to Hell and back...and from the looks of this place, I’m not far off from it. You’ll have to do the same if you want the Title, Teo.
Going through me is going through Hell, and if you’re not 100% committed, you’ve got a 100% chance of failure. Even if you ARE in it to win it, there’s no guarantees when it comes to the belt. Not all who partake in World Title matches are as fortunate as I’ve been with regard to my success. Of the eleven World Title matches I’ve taken part in, I’ve only lost one. ONE, Teo. And it was to perhaps the greatest wrestler of all time, one Joey Flash, who’s likely up there on the surface taking care of business as I speak, like only he can do.
I hate to toot my own horn, but goddamn...toot toot, am I right?
And here your success rate is locked in at 0%. Don’t let it get you down though. Your history of failure when the Title’s on the line isn’t astounding through. In fact it’s completely normal. Summiting WCF Mountain and claiming a seat on the throne at the top is not an easy thing to do, and it’s no surprise that a guy who tries hard half the time at best hasn’t been able to do it. You’ve come closer than most though, so I suppose you’ve got that going for you, which is nice. I guess.
I’m sorry. I’m coming off as condescending, I know. But it’s just that you’ve squandered so much of your potential, Teo, and it’s maddening to see. Here you could be one of the greats, but you’ve allowed yourself to become a caricature of yourself. By now you should have held the Title multiple times, given the way you started out on this business, but instead you’re hardly seen as a threat to anyone on the roster, let alone to the man on the throne. At this point I’m basically the shopping mall Santa from A Christmas Story, my shoe to little Ralphie Del Sol’s forehead before I push his ass back down the slide. And before you say anything...yes, I may have been born and raised on the outskirts of society, but even I get TNT. You want something you can’t have - something you shouldn’t have - and I’m here to tell you NO. My “you’ll shoot your eye out” is more of a “you’ll disgrace the Title and thereby yourself,” though...which you would, and I’m not going to sit back and allow that to happen.
It almost pains me to say it. It didn’t have to be like this, Teo. But it’s all your fault. I reached my potential. You never did. You could have been so much more. You still could to be honest. Teddy Blaze may be long gone, but you’ve still got some of that fire left on you. You’ve still go that trademark Teo Del Sol never say die in you. You’ve still got the heart of the sun pumping fire through your veins...it just so happens the fire’s gone cold.
And here I am, on the brink of Hell itself, praying for a way to heat you back up.
Unfortunately, all I can offer is my best effort - an utterly dominate performance over you - so that you can get a sense of what it takes to be the best. So that you can set a goal for yourself. It may seem petty, but a goal is what you need, Teo. Something to work towards. Because as it stands, you’re working toward failure, toward career suicide. And I’d hate to see you leave us too soon...before you get your time in the sun.
If it ever comes.
It’s not something you’re entitled to though. If you want the belt, you’ve got to earn it. You ought to know that by now, Teo. You get what you give in this business. But even if you give it your all, there’s no guarantee a run with the Title’s in store for you. It’s not only about effort, it’s about skill. It’s about your prowess in the ring, possessing a killer instinct you can call upon at a moment’s notice to put your opponent down when the time comes. Some are born for this shit, blessed with an innate ability to physically dominate and maintain a mental fortitude that surpasses that of his or her opponent. That’s me. I can do this in my sleep better than half the waking roster. It’s a fact of life, a bitter pill most are unwilling to swallow, yourself included, I imagine. But admitting you’re inferior is half the battle. The other half is proving it in front of the world, which I’ll see to tomorrow night.
Fact is, Teo, now’s not your time to shine. It’s my time to shine a light on you, to expose you to the harsh reality that you’re not ready. In my eyes you’ll always have a place on the roster. But so long as I’m around, it’s not at the top. Your place is further down the hierarchy. You’ve got plenty of value. You’ve got plenty of skill, more than enough to clean house with guys in the midcard, where you’ve relegated yourself to by sheer force of will. At this stage in the game, you can’t hold a candle to me. Conversely though...well let’s just say the candle I hold to you has a towering inferno burning away at the wick, and it’s got you lit up like a deer in headlights.
And you know what, given that point of view, maybe I was wrong. Maybe it is your time to shine after all, Teo. Maybe tomorrow night you WILL find your place in the sun...but when you succumb to the flames - when I walk out of the crater with my Title - it’s back to the shadows for you. Back to relative obscurity.
Back to the darkness you’ve come to call home.
He continues toward the subterranean castle, and he watches as two glowing orbs rise up and fly his way. As they near, a mechanical whirring reaches his ears, distinct amidst the otherwise absolute silence around him. Soon they’re only a stone’s throw away, and he comes to a stop and shields his eyes as two beams of light shine down on him. Two voices then call out in a failed attempt at unison.
“Halt! We are the Heralds of the Prince! Who goes there?”
Dune furrows his brow.
Dune: I’ve already spoken with the Prince. I’m Dune.
Heralds: Ah...Dune. Our apologies!
Their spotlights disappear, and the source of the whirring is made clear as they descend toward him. The Heralds hover a few feet off the ground with the help of makeshift rotary propeller devices, which are more or less a sort of personal helicopter. Once more they speak, though still not quite in sync.
Heralds: State your business, surface dweller. What brings you to The Maw and the Red Prince?
Dune: I’m here about the worms. I’ve got a wrestling match on the surface tomorrow night and the worms are putting it in jeopardy.
Heralds: Yes, of course, the Prince is looking forward to XIII as much as you! But sir, he set the great sandworms loose in honor of the event! We can’t allow you to -
Dune: Listen, I don’t have time for this. it’s obvious you and the Prince aren’t on the same page. Now I’ve got to see him as soon as possible, so maybe one of you could give me a lift. Yeah?
Heralds: Afraid we can’t do that, Dune. The Prince may be expecting you, but you’ve got to make the walk just like the others.
Dune: The others? Get a lot of traffic down here?
Heralds: Of course we do. This is the gateway to the fire. Most of you pass through here when the time comes. Hurry now, the Prince is waiting. Careful not to go past the castle though!
Dune: How could I miss it, it’s all there is down here.
Heralds: No...it’s not.
He furrows his brow as he looks beyond the castle only to see a wall of darkness. Without another word, the Heralds ascend and start their flight back toward the castle. Dune brushes himself off and follows in their wake as he speaks.
Dune: I’d ask what the fuck just happened, but I’m afraid if I do now, I’ll only be asking it for as long as I’m down here. This isn’t what I expected to find when I hopped on the back of the worm. My plan was to kill the thing and move on, but it seems the universe had a different plan for me. But as long as the outcome is shutting down all the seismic activity at the crater in time to get a green light for XIII night two, it’ll be a success.
I only hope this Red Prince is the answer I’m looking for. Seems like a powerful guy around these parts.
He continues walking as his icy blue eyes flick toward the screen.
Dune: He doesn’t have two Infinity Stones like you did recently, Teo. He doesn’t have the power of Slickie T and Bobby Cairo at his disposal, propping him up and giving him an extra boost, if only in spirit. That's what you had. You had almost the entire roster envious of your position. There you were, wielding not one but TWO Infinity Stones, three solid victories away from being gifted a shot at the WCF World Title. But true to form, you went and lost them about as quick as you possibly could to someone with enough heart to hold the Stones with pride.
I wonder if you’ll be able to harness their power tomorrow night, even if they're no longer yours. I wonder if the legends of old will live on inside you, despite the Stones representing them living on inside another...or if you’ll just wind up letting them down like you did when you actually owned the Stones, when you had the chance to actually MAKE something of yourself.
Honestly, Slickie T and Bobby Cairo deserved better than what you had to offer. Despite their significance, the power of the Stones did nothing to assist you when you met Sammy Shields in the ring, and they rightfully changed hands when he annihilated you. You showed some toughness in not backing down when he did you dirty. You showed some grit, but it counted for nothing. In the end, all it did was lose you the match and the Stones to boot. But given that you seemingly couldn't have cared less about them, what does it matter to you? Just another loss. Just another drop in the ocean.
Maybe your lack of caring was justified though. After all, here you are, Stoneless and set to square off against me for the World Title. I guess that's just the way she goes.
I was glad when you won the Stones, Teo. I was even happier to see you lose them. Though while your appalling lack of commitment and direction may make me grit my teeth and seethe more often than not, it doesn’t mean I don’t respect you. I do, just like I respect the power of the Infinity Stones. And with you they were in good hands...or so I thought. But I was wrong, disappointed by Teo Del Sol once again. I should've known better. I should've known when something important came along - when the pressure to WIN was high - you'd falter. It's come to be your trademark. Hindsight's 20/20, and looking back, it's clear that you losing them was inevitable.
But you know what, Teo? Despite the harm you’ve done to your standing of late, despite you failing to take damn near anything seriously, me vs. you tomorrow night for the belt makes sense. It’s not some random pairing. It’s not an equal one either, but that’s beside the point. In my eyes anyone who owns a Stone can have a shot at me, and given the fact that you had TWO of them, my heart’s all in on Teo vs. Dune, even if yours is far from it. And even though they're gone, perhaps a trace of them exists inside you. Perhaps the hollow personal victory of earning two Stones at one point in time will lift you up, help you to come somewhere close to my level. Because while tomorrow night you’re more than likely going to fall far short of the bar Cairo and Slickie T set during their time here, just as you did when you lost the Stones on Slam, it doesn’t have to be the end. On the contrary, it can be the beginning.
You’re set to burn, Teo. In the words of a legend making his return as I speak, I’m about to reduce you to ash. And from the ashes you can rise anew, with or without the Infinity Stones.
You can, Teo.
Whether or not you will, though, remains to be seen.
He reaches the door of the castle, and just before he bangs on it, it swings open, revealing pitch darkness. A few seconds pass before out from the shadows steps a tubby man dressed in puffy, bell-covered garb. His smiling face is almost infantile, and there’s a distinctly yellowish hue to his skin. The bells on his clothes jingle as he sings.
“You’ve come, you’ve come! He’s here within! The Prince awaits, do please come in!”
Dune: Uh…
“The Prince, The Boy! Upon the brink! He’ll send you back with but a blink!”
Red Prince: Jester!
The yellow jester’s eyes go wide, and he scampers out of sight before the Prince speaks again.
Red Prince: Forgive him, Dune. He has the mind of a child. Pay him no mind. He’s a foul thing, truly EVIL. But come in, come in. From what my Heralds tell me there’s no time to waste!
Dune takes a step into the shadow, but once his foot hits the ground within, the darkness disappears, and he finds himself standing in the middle of a grand hall. He looks behind him, confusion taking hold to see he’s nowhere near a doorway, but soon the sight before him captures his attention entirely.
A young boy in a red suit sits upon an ornate gold throne, his black eyes looking down through a white plaster-mask. Dune bows, perplexed at the strangeness of it all.
Red Prince: Pleasure to meet you, Dune. I’m a fan of your work. You’d make a fine Punisher beyond the gateway, if you so chose. But let’s get down to it. XIII, the worms. It appears in my festive mood, I’ve gone and put the entire event in jeopardy. That wasn’t my intention.
Dune: Don’t beat yourself up about it. My plan was to slay them, or as many as I could, but if there was an easier way to shut them up…
Red Prince: Hmm...easier, no. Faster, yes. But it’ll hurt.
Dune: Life is pain.
The Prince bursts into a fit of laughter, his voice growing deeper and deeper by the second. Finally it subsides, and he reaches into his pocket.
Red Prince: You’ve got two options: one...you sell me your soul for 24 hours, ensuring your victory over Teo Del Sol when XIII subsequently occurs. Or two...you endure insufferable pain, albeit temporary. You endure the wrath of the sun.
He pulls his hand out of his pocket, and with it a translucent cube. It floats just atop the skin of his palm as he continues.
Red Prince: Here it is, Dune. The Heart of the Sun. Reach your hand inside, bear the unbearable, and the worms will dive back to their home.
Dune nods in the direction of the cube.
Dune: Heart of the Sun. Fuck it.
Red Prince: Very well then. I hope you understand that if it were up to me I wouldn’t make you suffer. But that’s not the way of things this far down. Nothing’s free here, not even favors. Those aren’t His rules, and I’m afraid we must abide by them.
Dune: That’s fine. Let’s just get this over with.
The Prince nods and leaps down from the throne. He closes on Dune, holding out the translucent cube before coming to stop when he’s within reach. Dune hesitates, but only for a moment before he shoots his hand into the Heart of the Sun.
Dune: AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRLLLLLLLLLLLGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Pain, world ending pain, but even as his subconscious tries to take control and his reflexes kick in, he’s unable to retrieve his hand from the cube. Through his closed eyes he sees his scorched skin melting, his blood boiling, his bones drifting away as smoke. He can’t think. He can’t breathe. There’s nothing but the pain, nothing but -
A slight tingling, which fades completely by the time his eyes shoot open.
Red Prince: All done.
Dune is speechless as he examines his hand, which remains unharmed whatsoever. He looks up at the Child, but before he can speak, a deep rumbling shakes the castle, descending from the roof to the floor and beyond. He turns to the Prince.
Dune: It’s done then? The worms, they’ve gone?
Red Prince: They have. XIII is a go. And with that, it seems our time is at end...for now.
Dune: Wait. Tell me something. I keep hearing about this place being a gateway. To what?
Red Prince: The same place the worms crawled back to.
The Prince leans in close and whispers through his plaster-mask.
Red Prince: Hell.
His black eye winks once, and Dune blinks. When his eyes reopen an instant later, he’s standing atop the Ubehebe Crater on the surface once more. The moon is still low in the sky, signifying it’s not yet midnight on the 14th. He looks down at his hand for a moment before his deep voice resounds in the desert.
Dune: Hell. Not where I expected to be on Friday the 13th, but I suppose it’s fitting.
He pauses, building a bit of tension before blasting us away with a predictable cliche follow up.
Dune: It’s where you’ll be tomorrow night, Teo.
He grins.
Dune: Really though, you’re fucked. I’ve dealt with you twice before, and tomorrow I’m gonna beat you for a third time. Simple as that.
It’s a funny thing. The first time around you gave me your all, and I’d be lying if I said you didn’t come close to pulling off the upset. That was just over two years ago, back when you were still on the up and up. I left soon after, temporarily satisfied, accomplishing all I'd set out to. But the hunger returned, as it always does, and when I came back almost a year and half later, it didn’t take long for us to set our sights on each other. It was your Tag Belts I wanted, and when WMD absolutely destroyed Chaos Theory after weeks of building tension, I found myself incredibly disappointed. You didn’t even put up a fight, Teo. You laid down and allowed Kyle Kemp to do all the work. Had you joined him...well, it wouldn’t have made much difference, but at least you wouldn’t have had to look back on it with embarrassment. As it stands though, Chaos Theory went out with a whimper, and it’s all because of you.
To be honest I’m still baffled at the whole thing. You seemed so adamant, so determined when our brief rivalry began this past January. You went so far as to challenge me to a singles match, a brave thing. A respectable thing. Sure, you balked when I demanded you throw in the Omega Title, but all the same, I was impressed. But it was all downhill from there, and by the time WMD met Chaos Theory in the ring at Till Death, it was all but over. And sadly you’ve never been the same since.
I keep telling myself the old Teo’s gonna show up tomorrow night. I keep hoping the idea of another shameful defeat by my hand is gonna light a fire inside you. But deep down I know it’s in vain. You’re not ready for this, Teo. You’re not ready for me, and you damn sure aren’t ready to be a World Champion. You were once, but those days are gone. Even a miraculously valiant effort on your part won't be enough to get the job done against me. That’s not to say you can’t redeem yourself sometime further on down the road, but as long as you keep hanging your head and thinking you’re not good enough, you’re fucked. Absolutely fucked.
There’s a chasm that exists between our first and second match, Teo. A chasm of time. A chasm of effort on your part. A chasm of skill on display. I don’t want winter 2018 Teo tomorrow. No one does. I want winter 2016 Teo. I want you to keep your goddamn head up and come at me with all you’ve got. I want a fight, I want a challenge, and if I get the sense that you’re not giving me one after the bell rings tomorrow, I’m going to unleash on you like never before. You’ll pay for your lack of heart with the same currency demanded of me by the Red Prince to keep the dream of XIII night two alive...that of pain, more than you endured either time we faced off before.
In 2016 it was a one-off match that saw us sharing the ring. There was no history between us, no bad blood. The same can’t be said of our match earlier this year. There was plenty of history, and no love lost between us. This time around, while there’s far less venom, the fact that the World Title’s on the line makes it our biggest, most important match to date. If one thing’s for certain, it’s that I’m not going to disappoint. But in all likelihood you will, despite the stakes. On the contrary, it’s those same stakes that have likely got you doubting yourself, telling yourself resistance is futile. My victory is not guaranteed. It’s not inevitable, Teo, unless you make it so. And if it’s true that you’ve already lost inside your own mind, then of course I’ve already won.
You’re better than that, Teo. I know you are, even if you don’t. Even if the entire roster thinks you’re a laughing stock, even if the WCF Faithful have set aside absolutely zero of their faith for you, I know better. I remember. You used to be special. You used to have IT. It’s not something you can train for. It’s something you’re born with, innate to those lucky few, myself included. The difference is, I never lost it, and the odds of you miraculously finding it in the days leading up to the biggest challenge of your career are slim to none.
Nothing’s impossible though.
He sighs as the clock strikes midnight, leaving Friday the 13th behind.
Dune: I like to believe that. With the shit I’ve seen lately, you’d think I would believe that. But if there’s one thing keeping me from committing to that belief, it’s you, Teo. Not meeting immortals, delivering them to Death herself by their request. Not uncovering mystical towers in the wastes of the Mojave. Not happening upon underwater cities amidst giant sea monsters. Not sandworms taking me down to the Devil’s doorstep. All of that is entirely possible. But you putting forth a winning effort against me with the WCF World Title on the line...I just can’t envision it. It’s too big a stretch, even for me.
It’s too much to ask of you, and I almost pity you for being put in such a position.
He turns toward the crater and the ring at the bottom.
Dune: It’s why I’ll shoulder the blame for tomorrow night. Don’t blame yourself when you come up short. Blame me. Blame me for ensuring our match goes off without a hitch. Blame me for somehow exposing your flaws even further than you've managed to do on your own. Blame me for putting doubt in your heart, for following through on my promise of tearing it from your chest.
Blame me, Teo.
His icy blue eyes flick up at the screen.
Dune: Blame me for setting fire to the Sun.
He exits the frame, and we stare down at the ring within the Ubehebe Crater for a few seconds before we cut.
A roar emits from a massive hole in the ground atop the crater, and we zoom in on it before plunging into the depths. After a moment we catch up with the wool-covered tail of the beast. In traveling the remaining two miles of its length over the course of a few seconds, we catch up with the WCF World Champion.
Dune hangs on to the water-filled fur of the worm, regretting his decision more and more with every mile he descends.
“Great job, pal,” he thinks to himself. “Good work. Even if you do manage to stop the seismic activity the worms are kicking up in time to allow XIII night two to continue, how the fuck do you expect to get back to the surface. Bravo, kid.”
His mind says the last bit in Freeman’s voice, and he can’t but chuckle at how the old man would react if he could see the lengths he was going to in order to ensure his World Title match with Teo Del Sol went off without a hitch the next night.
The beast continues to dive, and Dune sarcastically calls out to it.
Dune: What’s the destination here big fella? Where the fuck are we?
A deep laugh silences him, and he grips the worm’s fur tighter as a voice calls out in response.
“I think you know where you are!”
Dune: What the -
“You’re on the back of the worm!”
Dune stays low as the earth before him crumbles in the path of the great worm and flies over the top of his head. Meanwhile the voice continues, and he listens as it takes on a musical quality, singing out strange lyrics.
“On back of the worm. On back of the worm. On back of the worm. On back of the - ”
Dune interrupts the captivating song.
Dune: You can...talk?
But, despite his current predicament, it dawns on him just how far fetched the notion is as the same deep laughter reaches his ears, and the voice calls out in response.
“That’s not the worm, Dune. It’s me, the Child. The Red Prince. Surely you’ve heard of me.”
Dune: I...can’t say that I have. How can you hear me right now?
Red Prince: Oh, there are ways and ways. As for your other question, the one about where you’re headed...I’ll tell you. You’re headed to the gateway. You’re headed to The Maw. I’ll be holding court by the time you arrive, and it just so happens I know exactly why you’re here. Hurry along now!
Dune: Wait, how do I find -
Red Prince: Watch your head!
He sits up a bit too high, and a huge chunk of earth smashes into his face, rendering him unconscious. Almost simultaneously, the worm breaks free from the sea of solid rock it tears through, and we cut to a wideshot as it freefalls through a colossal cavern within the earth, down toward a strange castle that sits on a dark, desolate plane.
The worm wriggles and writhes as gravity does what gravity does best. The only thing keeping Dune from flying off is a knot of worm-hair tied around his wrist. Finally, when the worm slams into solid ground again, the knots loosen, and he ragdolls off its back before it dig back into the ground, kicking up more of the seismic waves that have California officials demanding XIII night two be cancelled.
But Dune has other plans, and after regaining consciousness, he sits up and takes a look around.
Dune: The Maw, I presume?
It’s a barren place marked by a flat plane of rust-red earth and darkness above. The only source of light is the only landmark to be seen: a sprawling castle looming in the distance. He stands up, shakes off the cobwebs, and starts for it as his deep voice booms through his mask.
Dune: The things I do for love, Teo.
Don't mistake my meaning. I have no love for you, Teo. You’re fine, hard to love by any stretch of the imagination, but I respect you all the same. Even if you’ve dug yourself a hole so deep you might never climb out of it. You might as well be down here with me for that matter. Thing is, come Hell or high water, I’ll find my way back to the surface - back to the top, just like I did at Battle for New York after three years without the World Title around my waist. Of course, I was only under contract for a few months between reigns, but that’s beside the point. All you need to know is our match tomorrow and XIII night two is in good hands, and it’s because of my love for the fight, my love for the World Title.
Just look at where I am, Teo. Few others would venture so far beneath the earth just to make sure a goddamn wrestling match goes down as scheduled. I’m down here to put an end to the tremors that have been rocking the crater since XIII was announced. I’m down here to ensure the safety of the WCF Faithful. I’m down here for you, Teo, to make sure you get your shot at the belt, even if I’m right about you not being keen on the idea of facing me for it. But most of all, I’m down here for me. Selfish, I know.
I’d go to the ends of the earth to see this through. I’d go to Hell and back...and from the looks of this place, I’m not far off from it. You’ll have to do the same if you want the Title, Teo.
Going through me is going through Hell, and if you’re not 100% committed, you’ve got a 100% chance of failure. Even if you ARE in it to win it, there’s no guarantees when it comes to the belt. Not all who partake in World Title matches are as fortunate as I’ve been with regard to my success. Of the eleven World Title matches I’ve taken part in, I’ve only lost one. ONE, Teo. And it was to perhaps the greatest wrestler of all time, one Joey Flash, who’s likely up there on the surface taking care of business as I speak, like only he can do.
I hate to toot my own horn, but goddamn...toot toot, am I right?
And here your success rate is locked in at 0%. Don’t let it get you down though. Your history of failure when the Title’s on the line isn’t astounding through. In fact it’s completely normal. Summiting WCF Mountain and claiming a seat on the throne at the top is not an easy thing to do, and it’s no surprise that a guy who tries hard half the time at best hasn’t been able to do it. You’ve come closer than most though, so I suppose you’ve got that going for you, which is nice. I guess.
I’m sorry. I’m coming off as condescending, I know. But it’s just that you’ve squandered so much of your potential, Teo, and it’s maddening to see. Here you could be one of the greats, but you’ve allowed yourself to become a caricature of yourself. By now you should have held the Title multiple times, given the way you started out on this business, but instead you’re hardly seen as a threat to anyone on the roster, let alone to the man on the throne. At this point I’m basically the shopping mall Santa from A Christmas Story, my shoe to little Ralphie Del Sol’s forehead before I push his ass back down the slide. And before you say anything...yes, I may have been born and raised on the outskirts of society, but even I get TNT. You want something you can’t have - something you shouldn’t have - and I’m here to tell you NO. My “you’ll shoot your eye out” is more of a “you’ll disgrace the Title and thereby yourself,” though...which you would, and I’m not going to sit back and allow that to happen.
It almost pains me to say it. It didn’t have to be like this, Teo. But it’s all your fault. I reached my potential. You never did. You could have been so much more. You still could to be honest. Teddy Blaze may be long gone, but you’ve still got some of that fire left on you. You’ve still go that trademark Teo Del Sol never say die in you. You’ve still got the heart of the sun pumping fire through your veins...it just so happens the fire’s gone cold.
And here I am, on the brink of Hell itself, praying for a way to heat you back up.
Unfortunately, all I can offer is my best effort - an utterly dominate performance over you - so that you can get a sense of what it takes to be the best. So that you can set a goal for yourself. It may seem petty, but a goal is what you need, Teo. Something to work towards. Because as it stands, you’re working toward failure, toward career suicide. And I’d hate to see you leave us too soon...before you get your time in the sun.
If it ever comes.
It’s not something you’re entitled to though. If you want the belt, you’ve got to earn it. You ought to know that by now, Teo. You get what you give in this business. But even if you give it your all, there’s no guarantee a run with the Title’s in store for you. It’s not only about effort, it’s about skill. It’s about your prowess in the ring, possessing a killer instinct you can call upon at a moment’s notice to put your opponent down when the time comes. Some are born for this shit, blessed with an innate ability to physically dominate and maintain a mental fortitude that surpasses that of his or her opponent. That’s me. I can do this in my sleep better than half the waking roster. It’s a fact of life, a bitter pill most are unwilling to swallow, yourself included, I imagine. But admitting you’re inferior is half the battle. The other half is proving it in front of the world, which I’ll see to tomorrow night.
Fact is, Teo, now’s not your time to shine. It’s my time to shine a light on you, to expose you to the harsh reality that you’re not ready. In my eyes you’ll always have a place on the roster. But so long as I’m around, it’s not at the top. Your place is further down the hierarchy. You’ve got plenty of value. You’ve got plenty of skill, more than enough to clean house with guys in the midcard, where you’ve relegated yourself to by sheer force of will. At this stage in the game, you can’t hold a candle to me. Conversely though...well let’s just say the candle I hold to you has a towering inferno burning away at the wick, and it’s got you lit up like a deer in headlights.
And you know what, given that point of view, maybe I was wrong. Maybe it is your time to shine after all, Teo. Maybe tomorrow night you WILL find your place in the sun...but when you succumb to the flames - when I walk out of the crater with my Title - it’s back to the shadows for you. Back to relative obscurity.
Back to the darkness you’ve come to call home.
He continues toward the subterranean castle, and he watches as two glowing orbs rise up and fly his way. As they near, a mechanical whirring reaches his ears, distinct amidst the otherwise absolute silence around him. Soon they’re only a stone’s throw away, and he comes to a stop and shields his eyes as two beams of light shine down on him. Two voices then call out in a failed attempt at unison.
“Halt! We are the Heralds of the Prince! Who goes there?”
Dune furrows his brow.
Dune: I’ve already spoken with the Prince. I’m Dune.
Heralds: Ah...Dune. Our apologies!
Their spotlights disappear, and the source of the whirring is made clear as they descend toward him. The Heralds hover a few feet off the ground with the help of makeshift rotary propeller devices, which are more or less a sort of personal helicopter. Once more they speak, though still not quite in sync.
Heralds: State your business, surface dweller. What brings you to The Maw and the Red Prince?
Dune: I’m here about the worms. I’ve got a wrestling match on the surface tomorrow night and the worms are putting it in jeopardy.
Heralds: Yes, of course, the Prince is looking forward to XIII as much as you! But sir, he set the great sandworms loose in honor of the event! We can’t allow you to -
Dune: Listen, I don’t have time for this. it’s obvious you and the Prince aren’t on the same page. Now I’ve got to see him as soon as possible, so maybe one of you could give me a lift. Yeah?
Heralds: Afraid we can’t do that, Dune. The Prince may be expecting you, but you’ve got to make the walk just like the others.
Dune: The others? Get a lot of traffic down here?
Heralds: Of course we do. This is the gateway to the fire. Most of you pass through here when the time comes. Hurry now, the Prince is waiting. Careful not to go past the castle though!
Dune: How could I miss it, it’s all there is down here.
Heralds: No...it’s not.
He furrows his brow as he looks beyond the castle only to see a wall of darkness. Without another word, the Heralds ascend and start their flight back toward the castle. Dune brushes himself off and follows in their wake as he speaks.
Dune: I’d ask what the fuck just happened, but I’m afraid if I do now, I’ll only be asking it for as long as I’m down here. This isn’t what I expected to find when I hopped on the back of the worm. My plan was to kill the thing and move on, but it seems the universe had a different plan for me. But as long as the outcome is shutting down all the seismic activity at the crater in time to get a green light for XIII night two, it’ll be a success.
I only hope this Red Prince is the answer I’m looking for. Seems like a powerful guy around these parts.
He continues walking as his icy blue eyes flick toward the screen.
Dune: He doesn’t have two Infinity Stones like you did recently, Teo. He doesn’t have the power of Slickie T and Bobby Cairo at his disposal, propping him up and giving him an extra boost, if only in spirit. That's what you had. You had almost the entire roster envious of your position. There you were, wielding not one but TWO Infinity Stones, three solid victories away from being gifted a shot at the WCF World Title. But true to form, you went and lost them about as quick as you possibly could to someone with enough heart to hold the Stones with pride.
I wonder if you’ll be able to harness their power tomorrow night, even if they're no longer yours. I wonder if the legends of old will live on inside you, despite the Stones representing them living on inside another...or if you’ll just wind up letting them down like you did when you actually owned the Stones, when you had the chance to actually MAKE something of yourself.
Honestly, Slickie T and Bobby Cairo deserved better than what you had to offer. Despite their significance, the power of the Stones did nothing to assist you when you met Sammy Shields in the ring, and they rightfully changed hands when he annihilated you. You showed some toughness in not backing down when he did you dirty. You showed some grit, but it counted for nothing. In the end, all it did was lose you the match and the Stones to boot. But given that you seemingly couldn't have cared less about them, what does it matter to you? Just another loss. Just another drop in the ocean.
Maybe your lack of caring was justified though. After all, here you are, Stoneless and set to square off against me for the World Title. I guess that's just the way she goes.
I was glad when you won the Stones, Teo. I was even happier to see you lose them. Though while your appalling lack of commitment and direction may make me grit my teeth and seethe more often than not, it doesn’t mean I don’t respect you. I do, just like I respect the power of the Infinity Stones. And with you they were in good hands...or so I thought. But I was wrong, disappointed by Teo Del Sol once again. I should've known better. I should've known when something important came along - when the pressure to WIN was high - you'd falter. It's come to be your trademark. Hindsight's 20/20, and looking back, it's clear that you losing them was inevitable.
But you know what, Teo? Despite the harm you’ve done to your standing of late, despite you failing to take damn near anything seriously, me vs. you tomorrow night for the belt makes sense. It’s not some random pairing. It’s not an equal one either, but that’s beside the point. In my eyes anyone who owns a Stone can have a shot at me, and given the fact that you had TWO of them, my heart’s all in on Teo vs. Dune, even if yours is far from it. And even though they're gone, perhaps a trace of them exists inside you. Perhaps the hollow personal victory of earning two Stones at one point in time will lift you up, help you to come somewhere close to my level. Because while tomorrow night you’re more than likely going to fall far short of the bar Cairo and Slickie T set during their time here, just as you did when you lost the Stones on Slam, it doesn’t have to be the end. On the contrary, it can be the beginning.
You’re set to burn, Teo. In the words of a legend making his return as I speak, I’m about to reduce you to ash. And from the ashes you can rise anew, with or without the Infinity Stones.
You can, Teo.
Whether or not you will, though, remains to be seen.
He reaches the door of the castle, and just before he bangs on it, it swings open, revealing pitch darkness. A few seconds pass before out from the shadows steps a tubby man dressed in puffy, bell-covered garb. His smiling face is almost infantile, and there’s a distinctly yellowish hue to his skin. The bells on his clothes jingle as he sings.
“You’ve come, you’ve come! He’s here within! The Prince awaits, do please come in!”
Dune: Uh…
“The Prince, The Boy! Upon the brink! He’ll send you back with but a blink!”
Red Prince: Jester!
The yellow jester’s eyes go wide, and he scampers out of sight before the Prince speaks again.
Red Prince: Forgive him, Dune. He has the mind of a child. Pay him no mind. He’s a foul thing, truly EVIL. But come in, come in. From what my Heralds tell me there’s no time to waste!
Dune takes a step into the shadow, but once his foot hits the ground within, the darkness disappears, and he finds himself standing in the middle of a grand hall. He looks behind him, confusion taking hold to see he’s nowhere near a doorway, but soon the sight before him captures his attention entirely.
A young boy in a red suit sits upon an ornate gold throne, his black eyes looking down through a white plaster-mask. Dune bows, perplexed at the strangeness of it all.
Red Prince: Pleasure to meet you, Dune. I’m a fan of your work. You’d make a fine Punisher beyond the gateway, if you so chose. But let’s get down to it. XIII, the worms. It appears in my festive mood, I’ve gone and put the entire event in jeopardy. That wasn’t my intention.
Dune: Don’t beat yourself up about it. My plan was to slay them, or as many as I could, but if there was an easier way to shut them up…
Red Prince: Hmm...easier, no. Faster, yes. But it’ll hurt.
Dune: Life is pain.
The Prince bursts into a fit of laughter, his voice growing deeper and deeper by the second. Finally it subsides, and he reaches into his pocket.
Red Prince: You’ve got two options: one...you sell me your soul for 24 hours, ensuring your victory over Teo Del Sol when XIII subsequently occurs. Or two...you endure insufferable pain, albeit temporary. You endure the wrath of the sun.
He pulls his hand out of his pocket, and with it a translucent cube. It floats just atop the skin of his palm as he continues.
Red Prince: Here it is, Dune. The Heart of the Sun. Reach your hand inside, bear the unbearable, and the worms will dive back to their home.
Dune nods in the direction of the cube.
Dune: Heart of the Sun. Fuck it.
Red Prince: Very well then. I hope you understand that if it were up to me I wouldn’t make you suffer. But that’s not the way of things this far down. Nothing’s free here, not even favors. Those aren’t His rules, and I’m afraid we must abide by them.
Dune: That’s fine. Let’s just get this over with.
The Prince nods and leaps down from the throne. He closes on Dune, holding out the translucent cube before coming to stop when he’s within reach. Dune hesitates, but only for a moment before he shoots his hand into the Heart of the Sun.
Dune: AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRLLLLLLLLLLLGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Pain, world ending pain, but even as his subconscious tries to take control and his reflexes kick in, he’s unable to retrieve his hand from the cube. Through his closed eyes he sees his scorched skin melting, his blood boiling, his bones drifting away as smoke. He can’t think. He can’t breathe. There’s nothing but the pain, nothing but -
A slight tingling, which fades completely by the time his eyes shoot open.
Red Prince: All done.
Dune is speechless as he examines his hand, which remains unharmed whatsoever. He looks up at the Child, but before he can speak, a deep rumbling shakes the castle, descending from the roof to the floor and beyond. He turns to the Prince.
Dune: It’s done then? The worms, they’ve gone?
Red Prince: They have. XIII is a go. And with that, it seems our time is at end...for now.
Dune: Wait. Tell me something. I keep hearing about this place being a gateway. To what?
Red Prince: The same place the worms crawled back to.
The Prince leans in close and whispers through his plaster-mask.
Red Prince: Hell.
His black eye winks once, and Dune blinks. When his eyes reopen an instant later, he’s standing atop the Ubehebe Crater on the surface once more. The moon is still low in the sky, signifying it’s not yet midnight on the 14th. He looks down at his hand for a moment before his deep voice resounds in the desert.
Dune: Hell. Not where I expected to be on Friday the 13th, but I suppose it’s fitting.
He pauses, building a bit of tension before blasting us away with a predictable cliche follow up.
Dune: It’s where you’ll be tomorrow night, Teo.
He grins.
Dune: Really though, you’re fucked. I’ve dealt with you twice before, and tomorrow I’m gonna beat you for a third time. Simple as that.
It’s a funny thing. The first time around you gave me your all, and I’d be lying if I said you didn’t come close to pulling off the upset. That was just over two years ago, back when you were still on the up and up. I left soon after, temporarily satisfied, accomplishing all I'd set out to. But the hunger returned, as it always does, and when I came back almost a year and half later, it didn’t take long for us to set our sights on each other. It was your Tag Belts I wanted, and when WMD absolutely destroyed Chaos Theory after weeks of building tension, I found myself incredibly disappointed. You didn’t even put up a fight, Teo. You laid down and allowed Kyle Kemp to do all the work. Had you joined him...well, it wouldn’t have made much difference, but at least you wouldn’t have had to look back on it with embarrassment. As it stands though, Chaos Theory went out with a whimper, and it’s all because of you.
To be honest I’m still baffled at the whole thing. You seemed so adamant, so determined when our brief rivalry began this past January. You went so far as to challenge me to a singles match, a brave thing. A respectable thing. Sure, you balked when I demanded you throw in the Omega Title, but all the same, I was impressed. But it was all downhill from there, and by the time WMD met Chaos Theory in the ring at Till Death, it was all but over. And sadly you’ve never been the same since.
I keep telling myself the old Teo’s gonna show up tomorrow night. I keep hoping the idea of another shameful defeat by my hand is gonna light a fire inside you. But deep down I know it’s in vain. You’re not ready for this, Teo. You’re not ready for me, and you damn sure aren’t ready to be a World Champion. You were once, but those days are gone. Even a miraculously valiant effort on your part won't be enough to get the job done against me. That’s not to say you can’t redeem yourself sometime further on down the road, but as long as you keep hanging your head and thinking you’re not good enough, you’re fucked. Absolutely fucked.
There’s a chasm that exists between our first and second match, Teo. A chasm of time. A chasm of effort on your part. A chasm of skill on display. I don’t want winter 2018 Teo tomorrow. No one does. I want winter 2016 Teo. I want you to keep your goddamn head up and come at me with all you’ve got. I want a fight, I want a challenge, and if I get the sense that you’re not giving me one after the bell rings tomorrow, I’m going to unleash on you like never before. You’ll pay for your lack of heart with the same currency demanded of me by the Red Prince to keep the dream of XIII night two alive...that of pain, more than you endured either time we faced off before.
In 2016 it was a one-off match that saw us sharing the ring. There was no history between us, no bad blood. The same can’t be said of our match earlier this year. There was plenty of history, and no love lost between us. This time around, while there’s far less venom, the fact that the World Title’s on the line makes it our biggest, most important match to date. If one thing’s for certain, it’s that I’m not going to disappoint. But in all likelihood you will, despite the stakes. On the contrary, it’s those same stakes that have likely got you doubting yourself, telling yourself resistance is futile. My victory is not guaranteed. It’s not inevitable, Teo, unless you make it so. And if it’s true that you’ve already lost inside your own mind, then of course I’ve already won.
You’re better than that, Teo. I know you are, even if you don’t. Even if the entire roster thinks you’re a laughing stock, even if the WCF Faithful have set aside absolutely zero of their faith for you, I know better. I remember. You used to be special. You used to have IT. It’s not something you can train for. It’s something you’re born with, innate to those lucky few, myself included. The difference is, I never lost it, and the odds of you miraculously finding it in the days leading up to the biggest challenge of your career are slim to none.
Nothing’s impossible though.
He sighs as the clock strikes midnight, leaving Friday the 13th behind.
Dune: I like to believe that. With the shit I’ve seen lately, you’d think I would believe that. But if there’s one thing keeping me from committing to that belief, it’s you, Teo. Not meeting immortals, delivering them to Death herself by their request. Not uncovering mystical towers in the wastes of the Mojave. Not happening upon underwater cities amidst giant sea monsters. Not sandworms taking me down to the Devil’s doorstep. All of that is entirely possible. But you putting forth a winning effort against me with the WCF World Title on the line...I just can’t envision it. It’s too big a stretch, even for me.
It’s too much to ask of you, and I almost pity you for being put in such a position.
He turns toward the crater and the ring at the bottom.
Dune: It’s why I’ll shoulder the blame for tomorrow night. Don’t blame yourself when you come up short. Blame me. Blame me for ensuring our match goes off without a hitch. Blame me for somehow exposing your flaws even further than you've managed to do on your own. Blame me for putting doubt in your heart, for following through on my promise of tearing it from your chest.
Blame me, Teo.
His icy blue eyes flick up at the screen.
Dune: Blame me for setting fire to the Sun.
He exits the frame, and we stare down at the ring within the Ubehebe Crater for a few seconds before we cut.
