The Most Wonderful Time Of Ymir
Oct 30, 2018 22:47:27 GMT -5
Alex Richards and Bonnie Blue like this
Post by "Invincible" Damian Kaine on Oct 30, 2018 22:47:27 GMT -5
WHOOSH!
The door flies open, letting light blind my eyes as it shines into the otherwise dark room. My eyes quickly adjust to see a figure standing before me, frantic.
Figure: Where are they, where are they?!
He begins rummaging through my duffel bags and suitcases, scattering bits of clothing and miscellaneous other objects across the room.
Me: Hey! Those are my bags, what the hell are you doing?!
If the man heard me, he sure as hell didn’t acknowledge it. He moves over to Ally’s dresser and begins to empty out each individual drawer. Finally, he stops, holding up a tiny bottle that can barely be made out in the light:
“Oxycontin 80mg”
Figure: Aha… there they are… she thought she could hide them…
Voice: What in God’s name do you think you’re doing?
The figure turns towards the voice, the light finally hitting his face. Or, my face, I guess I should say. Because, much to my horror, the man that has been rummaging through my belongings, looking for his fix of opioids? That’s me.
And trust me. I’m sufficiently confused.
That said, this DK turns to the door, where we both see my Fiance…
Ally: Damian, what the fuck?! We talked about this! No more. Honestly, what’s the point of even fucking trying with you?
She storms out the room and Damian- the other Damian- follows her. The bedroom walls begin to morph, turning to trees and lines of brick houses. I see Ally once again, a baby carrier in hand, headed towards her car. After a few seconds, Damian follows out the door.
Damian: Ally, wait!
Ally: No, Dame. It’s too late, now. You’ve made your choice.
As I get closer, I see the tears streaming down her cheeks. She situates the carrier in the car, and for the first time I see what- or who- is inside. My baby boy, fast asleep.
Damian: Ally, come on! We’ve had this conversation! Come on, I’ll change! I promise!
Ally slams the car door, shockingly not waking the sleeping child.
Ally: Promise? You mean how you promised to not step in the ring again? How you promised you were not going to hit the bottle every fucking time we argue? How you promised that you were done with the pills, Damian? What about all those promises?
Damian: Ally those were different!
Ally: Different? Bullshit! With those pills, you’re a danger! TO EVERYONE! To you, to me! Hell, you’re a danger to Adrian!
And that’s when my heart stopped. Because I watched myself rear back and slap the woman I love. With no remorse.
Damian: If you ever tell me that I’m a danger to my own son again, it’ll be a lot worse than a slap.
I was stunned. I couldn’t do that. I would never even dream of it. The fact that this man had the audacity…
Ally shoves Damian, knocking him to the ground and scattering the Oxys across the driveway.
Ally: Fuck you, Damian. Fuck! You!
Ally slides into the driver seat of her car and drives away, leaving Damian alone.
The world dissolves around me again, and next thing I know I’m in the backseat of Ally’s car, next to the now-awake Adrian Kaine. In the front seat is a still-crying Ally Staudt. Or, Kaine, I suppose.
Ally: I… I’m sorry Adrian… I don’t know what exactly has gotten into your father… He used to be so great… Did I ever tell you how we met?
Her smile grew, but her eyes betrayed her.
Ally: It was in the second grade. He was playing all alone over on the monkey bars… Yeah I know the story sounds silly…
But it’s such a great story… Keep telling it, Ally… Please…
Ally: My best friend and I were walking around, just being kids. And I saw him. So I left Phoebe and went over to him. Not sure why, or how I randomly had the courage to do so. But I did. And he noticed me. But he didn’t say anything. Nothing at all. We sat in silence as recess winded down to an end. And the bell to go in finally rang. I sighed and ran off, back to the room. Once we all got settled back in, Damian was the last to come in. And he walked over to my desk, and he gave me a tiny rock.
Ally reached over to her glovebox as the scene around me phased once more.
Now, I’m in my living room. I can hear the television.
TV Announcer: And now back to the Rise and Fall of UCI, on HBO.
Ahhh UCI. The only wrestling company that actually treated its employees with respect. Despite its owner being an insufferable cunt.
I walk over to couch and see Damian- again, the other Damian- passed out. Beer bottles flood the floor, and, to my surprise, cocaine sits in neat lines on the coffee table.
Me: Wow… You’re a fucking moron…
I sit next to the other Damian, and almost right as my butt hits the cushion, his cell phone rings, waking him.
Damian: Hello? Yeah? Where? Okay, yeah I’ll be there in a few.
Another transition? Yup. This is starting to give me a headache.
Wait…
No…
No no no no no!
I see a car… a very familiar car… wrapped around a tree…
Police and EMTs flood the scene…
I can finally overhear a conversation.
Damian: You’re sure it’s her?
I turn to see him face to face with a Sheriff.
Sheriff: That’s what the tags indicate. Alexandra Louise Staudt. 26 years old. Brown hair, brown eyes. Sound about right?
Damian: Yep. That’s Ally.
The lack of emotion in his- my- face. It’s disturbing. I feel tears rushing down my own.
Sheriff: And the baby in the back seat?
Oh no…
I turn to see a paramedic with a small child on a stretcher. Immediately I turn to the other Damian in horror as he just simply nods to the sheriff.
Sheriff: Now, we suspect that she was reaching into her glove compartment and a deer came out of nowhere. She saw it at the last minute and swerved, right into this here tree.
Damian: Why would she be reaching into the glove box?
Sheriff: I was hoping you could tell me. We found this in the palm of her hand.
He holds out his hand and shows a small Crown Royal bag. He unties it and drops a tiny little pebble into his palm.
Sheriff: Do you recognize this?
Me: I do. I do! No!
Damian takes one look at the pebble.
Damian: No, sir. I’m afraid I don’t.
Me: I beg your pardon?
Sheriff: Okay, thank you. We’ll let you know once we find out more information.
Me: What the fuck do you mean you don’t know what that is?
Damian turns around and begins walking to his car, unphased by my words.
Me: Don’t fucking walk away from me! How could you become this?! This beast! This shell of yourself! HOW?! HOW CAN YOU WALK AWAY FROM THE ONE PERSON WHO NEVER! LET! GO!
But once again, he just. Kept. Going.
HE CAN’T HEAR YOU.
As I watch Damian walk away, a thing of nightmares comes into my sight. Horned, furry, and big as a behemoth, I froze in my place.
Beast: I AM YMIR. DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM, MORTAL?
Ymir… Why does that name sound so familiar?
Wait! High school mythology! Who was Ymir…
Me: The guy who created the world? Something along those lines, right?
Ymir: YES! THANKFULLY, SOMEBODY KNOWS. SO I ASSUME YOU KNOW WHY I AM HERE?
Me: Uh… Yeah, no. Blanking on that front. I’m still kinda distracted by my fiance dying before my eyes? My own self not even caring? Not really in the mood to ponder on ancient Norse mythology, mate.
Ymir: NOT MYTHOLOGY! FACT! I AM HERE TO ASSIST YOU IN YOUR WAR AGAINST THE ALLFATHER! THAT IS, IF YOU ARE WORTHY! HOWEVER, YOU DO NOT SEEM SO. YOU APPEAR WEAK, MORTAL. NOT DESERVING OF YOUR COMPANIONS OR MY ASSISTANCE.
Me: First of all, yes. Mythology. Whether fact or fiction, it’s mythology. A collection of stories used to explain how shit started. Ring a bell? And secondly, I’m gonna be frank with you. You ain’t wrong. But I’m not going to sit here and be bombarded like this in the situation I’m in. Now, I know I’m in a dream. That’s pretty fucking obvious. But I also can easily tell I’m not controlling this one. You are. So either wake me up and confront me in person or at the very fucking least get me away from here.
As the words leave my lips, I find myself in the Drunken Dragon, a more welcome sight.
Ymir: PERHAPS YOU ARE NOT AS WEAK AS-
Me: Oh, I am. I’m weak as fuck, I’m not going to lie. I know that, in this War on Odin, I’m the weak link of the Guardians. Hell, I’ve always been the weak link of the Guardians. And that will likely never change. I’m going to be the first target. Get me out quickly and work on the strong members.
Ymir: AND YOU ARE SIMPLY OKAY WITH THIS?
Me: When did I say that? No, I’m not okay with it. My weakness isn’t a fault. Because I’m not weak in the normal ways. They don’t call me invincible for nothing. My brain gets the better of me a lot, that’s true. But when I’m on, I’m on. And for this War, I’m on. Besides, it could be worse. I could be James Wolf.
I step away from the being before me and head over to the bar. No Alex? Aight, I’ll get my own drink then.
Ymir: WHY WOULD YOU ELECT TO BE JAMES WOLF?
Me: Honestly, bro, you got me. I have no legitimate clue why anybody would want to be that arrogant piece of shit. I mean, for christ’s sake, at least I have the decency to admit that I’m bad in the ring. I’d say he’s a waste of breath, but I’m asleep and dreaming anyway, so it doesn’t matter. James is trash. I’m not going to stoop to the levels that Bonnie and Alex are going to hit him on, because that’s too easy, so let me rip his fucking life apart. Let me get one thing straight. I completely and utterly hate people like James Wolf. They are the reason that southerners are stereotyped and frowned upon. He proves them right. He shows them that everything they say about a southerner, 100% correct. Now, I take back what I said earlier. He truly is a waste of breath, even in a dream. He’s not worth thinking about at all.
Ymir: YOU BELIEVE WOLF TO BE THE WEAK LINK OUT OF ALL OF YOUR ADVERSARIES?
I pull out Alex’s Zima and my very own bottle of tequila. I mix the two in a glass while talking.
Me: You say that as if there’s only one. Have you seen Sam McPherson? What the fuck even is that guy? It’s like Odin scraped the bottom of the barrell with his team picks. Ya know, kinda like in a dodgeball game in high school, how everyone lines up and captains pick? Odin must have forgotten his glasses that day in class, mate, cause his decisions are hella sub-par. At least those two.
Ymir: DOES THIS MEAN YOU WILL DEFEAT ODIN?
Me: Defeat Odin? I’ll damn sure do my best. Odin is one tough motherfucker. But I can tell he’s flawed. Odin, he acts like a badass. He acts like nothing in the world can stop him. But there’s one thing wrong with any god. They only have legitimate power over those that believe. And I! Don’t! Believe!
I finish up and take my glass.
Me: Want a drink? No? Aight.
I continue sipping.
Ymir: ARE YOU IMPLYING THAT YOU DO NOT BELIEVE IN THE EVENTS OF THE WORLD?
Me: Nah, I believe in things that have happened. I believe you were chopped up into tiny itty bitty pieces, because, fuck. You’re right in front of me. I can tell pretty damn well that you ain’t human.That’s preeeetty obvious. But the truth in the matter is, like any empire falls, Pantheons fall as well. I don’t believe that Odin holds any power anymore. I don’t believe he legitimately poses a threat. Which, I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s the reason you were awakened. I never told Bonnie or Alex this. But I had been looking around for ways to topple the false god. I read about your story and figured I had to find a way to set this in motion. So, I did.
Me: Bonnie lost at War. It was unfortunate, but it happened. I saw that, and sat backstage. Did some research. Got in touch with a few folk and found out if/how I could bring you back. I wound up back in contact with Johnny Reb. It took a bit of convincing him that it was necessary for Bonnie’s safety- not necessarily true but not necessarily false either- and I found out that you were there. With the Timekeeper. Pretty damn convenient, if I do say so myself.
I raise my glass to him, Gatsby style.
Me: Honestly, mate, I know you were looking to use us in your little chess match with Odin, but I’m way ahead of you. That said, we have the same goal. Take down the big dog. I know what’s supposed to kill Odin, but Ragnarok ain’t here yet. Any way we could speed up that process?
Ymir: AND WATCH THE WORLD BURN? SON, ARE YOU AWARE OF THE EXTENT TO WHICH RAGNAROK DESTROYS?
Me: Nah, I ain’t interested in all that. I just want Odin dead. Gone. Finito. What can you do?
Ymir: WELL THERE IS SOMETHING…
Ymir reaches over and touches me, and immediately I feel heat radiating from my body. I look around and feel my bones expanding. But, after a minute or so, everything is normal again.
Me: What happened to me?
Ymir: YOU HAVE BEEN CURSED TO TAKE ON THE ESSENCE OF THE WOLF FENRIR, THE PROPHETIC END TO ODIN! AND WITH THAT, I LEAVE YOU, MORTAL. AVENGE ME WELL, BUT BE WARNED. AS YOU HOLD THIS POWER, YOU TOO HOLD THE PROPHETIC RESULT. YOUR VIDAR WILL COME!
“Carry On My Wayward Son” shakes me from my sleep. I turn over in my bed to see my beautiful fiance, still pregnant, and thank the gods, still alive. I grab my phone and pick it up.
Me: Hello?
Sebastian Reid: Yo, DK. I have been tasked with getting together a bunch of old UCI peeps to help film an HBO special. You down?
Me: Ya know what? Fuck it up, I’m down. But I have some shit I have to do first, man. I’ll see you after Helloween. Or, that night. Happy birthday, by the way.
Reid: Thanks, kid. I’ll see ya then.
I hang up the phone and get dressed, leaving the room and heading to my lab. I set up my laptop and hit record.
“Morning, folks, and welcome to yet another edition of the Mark of Kaine! Now, I know that it’s been a while, but I have something very important coming up so I thought, ‘Why not bring it back?’ I’m sure, at this point you all know that ya boi is engaged, with a baby boy on the way. That’s fuckin’ great and all, but as happy as I am about that, it ain’t why I’m here. I’m here because I made the decision to step back into the squared circle.
“It’s time for a little anecdote, shall we? Let me take you back to this time, two years ago. I was three months into my initial WCF run and locked in a feud with my late friend Adrian Archer. Now, a lot was going on in the dub at the time. Pantheon had just returned. The shit stain known as Zero Tolerance was running rampant. All of this happened separately, so what did Seth Lerch do? He makes Adrian and Me the team captains of a Hellimination team against Pantheon. Tells us that we can pick whoever we want, then tells us we have to pick Zero Tolerance. To round things out, I nabbed Sarah Twilight and Eric Price. Now, I was among the first eliminated in that match, eventually leading to our inevitable loss at the hands of Pantheon. And I was alright with it. I mean, I was three months into the big leagues and I was main eventing one of the biggest shows of the year, fuck yeah! But I caught hell from everybody. I was a let down. A failure. A little munchkin who didn’t amount to shit.
“Here I stand two years later, having held two television championships and, again, main eventing one of the biggest shows again. But this time? I won’t fuck up. I’ve recently made a name for myself in the wrestling world as a fuck up. Most of my time in Action Wrestling was a fuck up. And I’m ready to rectify that. Who better to do that against than Gravedigger, the owner of Action Wrestling?
“What exactly should Digger have against me? Yeah, I lost weekly? So fucking what? I was there weekly. I helped set up the ring. I helped clean up after. Better than anybody else in that fucked up company. But of course Digger doesn’t like me. The fucker has held a grudge since UCI. Because, in 8 or 9 months, Damian Kaine became more synonymous with UCI than Gravedigger ever did. Let’s face it. Gravedigger has no relevance in modern day wrestling. Dude had to start up his own promotion to get people saying his name. In fact, he should be a meme. ‘Day 351 Without Importance: I team with James Wolf because I’ve lost all credibility as a wrestler.’
“And what about Kaz Mazy? Kaz, a brother of mine. Somebody who I look up to. Or, I did. Kaz, I know I expressed hatred for your partnership with ZMac back in UCI, but I couldn’t say much about it. You two did something that the two of us couldn’t, and that is take the tag belts. But past that, where did you go? You lost the belts to Bonnie and Alex, then just up and vanished, next to be seen on the side of Odin Balfore? How fucking despicable. Could you get lower, mate? But alas, I fear you’re stuck in the same boat as old Gravedigger. I hate to say it, Bro, but you may be past your prime, so maybe you should just go back to watching wrestling while you check your bingo card.
“As far as the rest of Hellimination, I won’t let you guys down. You have my word there. And My word is bond. Peace out!”
The door flies open, letting light blind my eyes as it shines into the otherwise dark room. My eyes quickly adjust to see a figure standing before me, frantic.
Figure: Where are they, where are they?!
He begins rummaging through my duffel bags and suitcases, scattering bits of clothing and miscellaneous other objects across the room.
Me: Hey! Those are my bags, what the hell are you doing?!
If the man heard me, he sure as hell didn’t acknowledge it. He moves over to Ally’s dresser and begins to empty out each individual drawer. Finally, he stops, holding up a tiny bottle that can barely be made out in the light:
“Oxycontin 80mg”
Figure: Aha… there they are… she thought she could hide them…
Voice: What in God’s name do you think you’re doing?
The figure turns towards the voice, the light finally hitting his face. Or, my face, I guess I should say. Because, much to my horror, the man that has been rummaging through my belongings, looking for his fix of opioids? That’s me.
And trust me. I’m sufficiently confused.
That said, this DK turns to the door, where we both see my Fiance…
Ally: Damian, what the fuck?! We talked about this! No more. Honestly, what’s the point of even fucking trying with you?
She storms out the room and Damian- the other Damian- follows her. The bedroom walls begin to morph, turning to trees and lines of brick houses. I see Ally once again, a baby carrier in hand, headed towards her car. After a few seconds, Damian follows out the door.
Damian: Ally, wait!
Ally: No, Dame. It’s too late, now. You’ve made your choice.
As I get closer, I see the tears streaming down her cheeks. She situates the carrier in the car, and for the first time I see what- or who- is inside. My baby boy, fast asleep.
Damian: Ally, come on! We’ve had this conversation! Come on, I’ll change! I promise!
Ally slams the car door, shockingly not waking the sleeping child.
Ally: Promise? You mean how you promised to not step in the ring again? How you promised you were not going to hit the bottle every fucking time we argue? How you promised that you were done with the pills, Damian? What about all those promises?
Damian: Ally those were different!
Ally: Different? Bullshit! With those pills, you’re a danger! TO EVERYONE! To you, to me! Hell, you’re a danger to Adrian!
And that’s when my heart stopped. Because I watched myself rear back and slap the woman I love. With no remorse.
Damian: If you ever tell me that I’m a danger to my own son again, it’ll be a lot worse than a slap.
I was stunned. I couldn’t do that. I would never even dream of it. The fact that this man had the audacity…
Ally shoves Damian, knocking him to the ground and scattering the Oxys across the driveway.
Ally: Fuck you, Damian. Fuck! You!
Ally slides into the driver seat of her car and drives away, leaving Damian alone.
The world dissolves around me again, and next thing I know I’m in the backseat of Ally’s car, next to the now-awake Adrian Kaine. In the front seat is a still-crying Ally Staudt. Or, Kaine, I suppose.
Ally: I… I’m sorry Adrian… I don’t know what exactly has gotten into your father… He used to be so great… Did I ever tell you how we met?
Her smile grew, but her eyes betrayed her.
Ally: It was in the second grade. He was playing all alone over on the monkey bars… Yeah I know the story sounds silly…
But it’s such a great story… Keep telling it, Ally… Please…
Ally: My best friend and I were walking around, just being kids. And I saw him. So I left Phoebe and went over to him. Not sure why, or how I randomly had the courage to do so. But I did. And he noticed me. But he didn’t say anything. Nothing at all. We sat in silence as recess winded down to an end. And the bell to go in finally rang. I sighed and ran off, back to the room. Once we all got settled back in, Damian was the last to come in. And he walked over to my desk, and he gave me a tiny rock.
Ally reached over to her glovebox as the scene around me phased once more.
Now, I’m in my living room. I can hear the television.
TV Announcer: And now back to the Rise and Fall of UCI, on HBO.
Ahhh UCI. The only wrestling company that actually treated its employees with respect. Despite its owner being an insufferable cunt.
I walk over to couch and see Damian- again, the other Damian- passed out. Beer bottles flood the floor, and, to my surprise, cocaine sits in neat lines on the coffee table.
Me: Wow… You’re a fucking moron…
I sit next to the other Damian, and almost right as my butt hits the cushion, his cell phone rings, waking him.
Damian: Hello? Yeah? Where? Okay, yeah I’ll be there in a few.
Another transition? Yup. This is starting to give me a headache.
Wait…
No…
No no no no no!
I see a car… a very familiar car… wrapped around a tree…
Police and EMTs flood the scene…
I can finally overhear a conversation.
Damian: You’re sure it’s her?
I turn to see him face to face with a Sheriff.
Sheriff: That’s what the tags indicate. Alexandra Louise Staudt. 26 years old. Brown hair, brown eyes. Sound about right?
Damian: Yep. That’s Ally.
The lack of emotion in his- my- face. It’s disturbing. I feel tears rushing down my own.
Sheriff: And the baby in the back seat?
Oh no…
I turn to see a paramedic with a small child on a stretcher. Immediately I turn to the other Damian in horror as he just simply nods to the sheriff.
Sheriff: Now, we suspect that she was reaching into her glove compartment and a deer came out of nowhere. She saw it at the last minute and swerved, right into this here tree.
Damian: Why would she be reaching into the glove box?
Sheriff: I was hoping you could tell me. We found this in the palm of her hand.
He holds out his hand and shows a small Crown Royal bag. He unties it and drops a tiny little pebble into his palm.
Sheriff: Do you recognize this?
Me: I do. I do! No!
Damian takes one look at the pebble.
Damian: No, sir. I’m afraid I don’t.
Me: I beg your pardon?
Sheriff: Okay, thank you. We’ll let you know once we find out more information.
Me: What the fuck do you mean you don’t know what that is?
Damian turns around and begins walking to his car, unphased by my words.
Me: Don’t fucking walk away from me! How could you become this?! This beast! This shell of yourself! HOW?! HOW CAN YOU WALK AWAY FROM THE ONE PERSON WHO NEVER! LET! GO!
But once again, he just. Kept. Going.
HE CAN’T HEAR YOU.
As I watch Damian walk away, a thing of nightmares comes into my sight. Horned, furry, and big as a behemoth, I froze in my place.
Beast: I AM YMIR. DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM, MORTAL?
Ymir… Why does that name sound so familiar?
Wait! High school mythology! Who was Ymir…
Me: The guy who created the world? Something along those lines, right?
Ymir: YES! THANKFULLY, SOMEBODY KNOWS. SO I ASSUME YOU KNOW WHY I AM HERE?
Me: Uh… Yeah, no. Blanking on that front. I’m still kinda distracted by my fiance dying before my eyes? My own self not even caring? Not really in the mood to ponder on ancient Norse mythology, mate.
Ymir: NOT MYTHOLOGY! FACT! I AM HERE TO ASSIST YOU IN YOUR WAR AGAINST THE ALLFATHER! THAT IS, IF YOU ARE WORTHY! HOWEVER, YOU DO NOT SEEM SO. YOU APPEAR WEAK, MORTAL. NOT DESERVING OF YOUR COMPANIONS OR MY ASSISTANCE.
Me: First of all, yes. Mythology. Whether fact or fiction, it’s mythology. A collection of stories used to explain how shit started. Ring a bell? And secondly, I’m gonna be frank with you. You ain’t wrong. But I’m not going to sit here and be bombarded like this in the situation I’m in. Now, I know I’m in a dream. That’s pretty fucking obvious. But I also can easily tell I’m not controlling this one. You are. So either wake me up and confront me in person or at the very fucking least get me away from here.
As the words leave my lips, I find myself in the Drunken Dragon, a more welcome sight.
Ymir: PERHAPS YOU ARE NOT AS WEAK AS-
Me: Oh, I am. I’m weak as fuck, I’m not going to lie. I know that, in this War on Odin, I’m the weak link of the Guardians. Hell, I’ve always been the weak link of the Guardians. And that will likely never change. I’m going to be the first target. Get me out quickly and work on the strong members.
Ymir: AND YOU ARE SIMPLY OKAY WITH THIS?
Me: When did I say that? No, I’m not okay with it. My weakness isn’t a fault. Because I’m not weak in the normal ways. They don’t call me invincible for nothing. My brain gets the better of me a lot, that’s true. But when I’m on, I’m on. And for this War, I’m on. Besides, it could be worse. I could be James Wolf.
I step away from the being before me and head over to the bar. No Alex? Aight, I’ll get my own drink then.
Ymir: WHY WOULD YOU ELECT TO BE JAMES WOLF?
Me: Honestly, bro, you got me. I have no legitimate clue why anybody would want to be that arrogant piece of shit. I mean, for christ’s sake, at least I have the decency to admit that I’m bad in the ring. I’d say he’s a waste of breath, but I’m asleep and dreaming anyway, so it doesn’t matter. James is trash. I’m not going to stoop to the levels that Bonnie and Alex are going to hit him on, because that’s too easy, so let me rip his fucking life apart. Let me get one thing straight. I completely and utterly hate people like James Wolf. They are the reason that southerners are stereotyped and frowned upon. He proves them right. He shows them that everything they say about a southerner, 100% correct. Now, I take back what I said earlier. He truly is a waste of breath, even in a dream. He’s not worth thinking about at all.
Ymir: YOU BELIEVE WOLF TO BE THE WEAK LINK OUT OF ALL OF YOUR ADVERSARIES?
I pull out Alex’s Zima and my very own bottle of tequila. I mix the two in a glass while talking.
Me: You say that as if there’s only one. Have you seen Sam McPherson? What the fuck even is that guy? It’s like Odin scraped the bottom of the barrell with his team picks. Ya know, kinda like in a dodgeball game in high school, how everyone lines up and captains pick? Odin must have forgotten his glasses that day in class, mate, cause his decisions are hella sub-par. At least those two.
Ymir: DOES THIS MEAN YOU WILL DEFEAT ODIN?
Me: Defeat Odin? I’ll damn sure do my best. Odin is one tough motherfucker. But I can tell he’s flawed. Odin, he acts like a badass. He acts like nothing in the world can stop him. But there’s one thing wrong with any god. They only have legitimate power over those that believe. And I! Don’t! Believe!
I finish up and take my glass.
Me: Want a drink? No? Aight.
I continue sipping.
Ymir: ARE YOU IMPLYING THAT YOU DO NOT BELIEVE IN THE EVENTS OF THE WORLD?
Me: Nah, I believe in things that have happened. I believe you were chopped up into tiny itty bitty pieces, because, fuck. You’re right in front of me. I can tell pretty damn well that you ain’t human.That’s preeeetty obvious. But the truth in the matter is, like any empire falls, Pantheons fall as well. I don’t believe that Odin holds any power anymore. I don’t believe he legitimately poses a threat. Which, I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s the reason you were awakened. I never told Bonnie or Alex this. But I had been looking around for ways to topple the false god. I read about your story and figured I had to find a way to set this in motion. So, I did.
Me: Bonnie lost at War. It was unfortunate, but it happened. I saw that, and sat backstage. Did some research. Got in touch with a few folk and found out if/how I could bring you back. I wound up back in contact with Johnny Reb. It took a bit of convincing him that it was necessary for Bonnie’s safety- not necessarily true but not necessarily false either- and I found out that you were there. With the Timekeeper. Pretty damn convenient, if I do say so myself.
I raise my glass to him, Gatsby style.
Me: Honestly, mate, I know you were looking to use us in your little chess match with Odin, but I’m way ahead of you. That said, we have the same goal. Take down the big dog. I know what’s supposed to kill Odin, but Ragnarok ain’t here yet. Any way we could speed up that process?
Ymir: AND WATCH THE WORLD BURN? SON, ARE YOU AWARE OF THE EXTENT TO WHICH RAGNAROK DESTROYS?
Me: Nah, I ain’t interested in all that. I just want Odin dead. Gone. Finito. What can you do?
Ymir: WELL THERE IS SOMETHING…
Ymir reaches over and touches me, and immediately I feel heat radiating from my body. I look around and feel my bones expanding. But, after a minute or so, everything is normal again.
Me: What happened to me?
Ymir: YOU HAVE BEEN CURSED TO TAKE ON THE ESSENCE OF THE WOLF FENRIR, THE PROPHETIC END TO ODIN! AND WITH THAT, I LEAVE YOU, MORTAL. AVENGE ME WELL, BUT BE WARNED. AS YOU HOLD THIS POWER, YOU TOO HOLD THE PROPHETIC RESULT. YOUR VIDAR WILL COME!
“Carry On My Wayward Son” shakes me from my sleep. I turn over in my bed to see my beautiful fiance, still pregnant, and thank the gods, still alive. I grab my phone and pick it up.
Me: Hello?
Sebastian Reid: Yo, DK. I have been tasked with getting together a bunch of old UCI peeps to help film an HBO special. You down?
Me: Ya know what? Fuck it up, I’m down. But I have some shit I have to do first, man. I’ll see you after Helloween. Or, that night. Happy birthday, by the way.
Reid: Thanks, kid. I’ll see ya then.
I hang up the phone and get dressed, leaving the room and heading to my lab. I set up my laptop and hit record.
The Mark of Kaine Podcast
Monday, October 29, 2018
“Morning, folks, and welcome to yet another edition of the Mark of Kaine! Now, I know that it’s been a while, but I have something very important coming up so I thought, ‘Why not bring it back?’ I’m sure, at this point you all know that ya boi is engaged, with a baby boy on the way. That’s fuckin’ great and all, but as happy as I am about that, it ain’t why I’m here. I’m here because I made the decision to step back into the squared circle.
“It’s time for a little anecdote, shall we? Let me take you back to this time, two years ago. I was three months into my initial WCF run and locked in a feud with my late friend Adrian Archer. Now, a lot was going on in the dub at the time. Pantheon had just returned. The shit stain known as Zero Tolerance was running rampant. All of this happened separately, so what did Seth Lerch do? He makes Adrian and Me the team captains of a Hellimination team against Pantheon. Tells us that we can pick whoever we want, then tells us we have to pick Zero Tolerance. To round things out, I nabbed Sarah Twilight and Eric Price. Now, I was among the first eliminated in that match, eventually leading to our inevitable loss at the hands of Pantheon. And I was alright with it. I mean, I was three months into the big leagues and I was main eventing one of the biggest shows of the year, fuck yeah! But I caught hell from everybody. I was a let down. A failure. A little munchkin who didn’t amount to shit.
“Here I stand two years later, having held two television championships and, again, main eventing one of the biggest shows again. But this time? I won’t fuck up. I’ve recently made a name for myself in the wrestling world as a fuck up. Most of my time in Action Wrestling was a fuck up. And I’m ready to rectify that. Who better to do that against than Gravedigger, the owner of Action Wrestling?
“What exactly should Digger have against me? Yeah, I lost weekly? So fucking what? I was there weekly. I helped set up the ring. I helped clean up after. Better than anybody else in that fucked up company. But of course Digger doesn’t like me. The fucker has held a grudge since UCI. Because, in 8 or 9 months, Damian Kaine became more synonymous with UCI than Gravedigger ever did. Let’s face it. Gravedigger has no relevance in modern day wrestling. Dude had to start up his own promotion to get people saying his name. In fact, he should be a meme. ‘Day 351 Without Importance: I team with James Wolf because I’ve lost all credibility as a wrestler.’
“And what about Kaz Mazy? Kaz, a brother of mine. Somebody who I look up to. Or, I did. Kaz, I know I expressed hatred for your partnership with ZMac back in UCI, but I couldn’t say much about it. You two did something that the two of us couldn’t, and that is take the tag belts. But past that, where did you go? You lost the belts to Bonnie and Alex, then just up and vanished, next to be seen on the side of Odin Balfore? How fucking despicable. Could you get lower, mate? But alas, I fear you’re stuck in the same boat as old Gravedigger. I hate to say it, Bro, but you may be past your prime, so maybe you should just go back to watching wrestling while you check your bingo card.
“As far as the rest of Hellimination, I won’t let you guys down. You have my word there. And My word is bond. Peace out!”
