Post by Gabriel Baal on Dec 9, 2017 4:41:17 GMT -5
The Engine was created in my image.
That goes without saying – just look at the the parts that formed the Engine collective. Look at every piece of the puzzle that came to be the Engine of Chaos and you’ll be at a loss to find a way that this Machine was not built to forge a path of my own creation. During it’s time, the Engine defined an industry in a way that virtually no other group has before. Every Championship won. Almost all on multile occasions. In ways that were unique and chaotic in their glory. And now, they do that which only the Syndicate have ever claimed before.
They destroy themselves because no-one else could do it.
The factas are clear for all to see – Holden Orson may have fallen away due to injury and weakness, but there is no denying. A weapon of our own creation. Jason Ingalls, now the holder of the San Jose Facility, delivered the destructive blow to the Engine of Calamity. It was Rogan's own chosen one, whose mind was broken and rebuilt to believe in everything we stood for, who managed to remove Holden from the fore. He should have stood in Holden's place and rejoiced in the Choas that had consumed him. Alas, he searched for his Man in Black instead.
And then the Man In Black fell upon his own sword.
I saw in Rogan something truly great and truly magical. I saw a man whose path to Chaos was pure at it’s core. A man who held true to everything that the Engine stood for, without any willingness to stray from the path. He was noble in his quest. Unyeilding. Yet when the Engine’s journey began to stray from his vision of purity, he found himself veering onto a path of his own. It was acceptanle to us – we knew there would be a parting of the ways. That in itself was inevitable. Still he failed to capitalise. He failed to live up to what I expected.
That almost broke my heart.
Yet the Engine’s new vision was exciting and without doubt the absolute pinnacle of everything I had foreseen. I remember the days when we all first met. The plans we had. The future that we saw for ourselves and those who we would choose to elevate. I saw it all in my mind and what I saw became reality. We would build and destroy. Rebuild and remould. Over and over until no-one knew what was real and what was manufactured. Yes. Chaos is beautiful in it’s uncertainty, but the order behind the Chaos?
It took something special to be able to see that.
Ichabod and I saw it all – together through those months we watched and planned. We tweaked the strings, playing everyone like marionettes. And when the time came, we would cut the strings and watch as men like Moss Edwards and Chaos would fall never to stand again. We watched as our acolytes rained Chaotic hell on those who stepped into their path. We watched as Championships were won, and Championships were lost. We watched and we waited for that moment in which we would start to break down those who we had built and then rebuild that which we had crushed.
And then that moment came. And everything changed.
I do not blame Ichabod for his frailty. I do not blame him for turning his back on me and what we believed in. I do not blame him for what happened after knife stole life away from the one person who saw him for what he truly was. No-one was to blame for that, but me. Those actions were mine and, whether anyone believes it or not – they were intentional. It was necessary. The death of a silly little girl would be the catalyst to all that you see at Horizons.
And so it begins.
"Doctor, I have a Mr. Griffiths here to see you." Said Vanessa over the intercom. Gabriel smiled as he finished writing in his note pad. It had been a productive meeting with Alan. The soup dumplings had been wonderful. Yet it was the scream – the one which Alan had hoped would go unheard – that had really made him feel… Alive.
It had gone someway to making him forget that he had lost to Cynric this past week. For the moment at least. Yet he was about to face Travis fucking Roberts for the World Heavyweight Championship at No Holds Barred. He could feel it in his water – he would be the man to take the World Championship from The Blessed One… He had to be. What else could his future hold?
"Send him in." Said Gabriel, shaking the self-doubt from his mind. He climbed to his feet and fastened the button of his suit as he walked around the desk. The door opened and Sid Griffith stepped inside – no smile, no hint of pleasantry as he walked towards Gabriel. He hesitated to accept the hand that Gabriel offered, but fought his instincts and took it all the same.
"Sid, good to see you." Said Gabriel, talking as if the two were old friends. "Albeit a little early – your medication isn’t due for another…"
"Two weeks." Said Sid gruffly as he shook rain water off his coat. "Yeah, I know – I’ll be out of the country. Ireland. Going to need to stock up a little."
"You know, as your Doctor, I’m not entirely sure that I should be giving you medication two weeks before it’s required." Said Gabriel with a twisted smile. Sid gave him a piercing glare. "But I’m sure I can make an exception."
"Had a feeling you would." Said Sid pulling up a chair and sitting down.
"Business or pleasure?" Asked Gabriel as he pulled open a drawer and searched for a prescription pad.
"Little of column a, little of column b." Said Sid, looking around Gabriel’s Angelfields office. "That important for you to write a prescription?"
"Of course not – just a little small talk while I find what I need." Said Gabriel.
For the next few moments, they sat in silence, Sid looking at the office little by little, Gabriel searching through his drawers for a pad that clearly wasn’t missing.
"Congratulations by the way." Said Sid with a sniff.
"Hmm?" Said Gabriel, feigning confusion before waving his hand absently. "Oh, The Global Challenge – it was nothing. A trifle."
"A trifle." Snorted Sid. "You know, you keep telling people how easy it was, people are going to start believing you – then no-one will give a damn about the fact that you won it."
Gabriel looked up from one of the many drawers and smiled.
"Well, alright, I’ll have to admit that match against Dirge was a little testing and Dredd is one fat bastard." He replied with a chuckle.
Sid broke character for a moment and shared a laugh.
"So... Travis Roberts?" Sid said, trying to keep the conversation moving. Gabriel sensed this particular tactic and decided to play along.
"Yes. Travis Roberts indeed – quite the formidable opponent." Said Gabriel. "But somehow, I’m not sure that you’ve come here to discuss the merits of the man I plan to defeat at No Holds Barred. Should he defend his Championship at To Be Determined, of course."
"I saw that. Matches randomly drawn on the night? Whose idea was that?" Asked Sid.
"God knows." Said Gabriel scratching his head. "I could well get two shots in the space of two Pay Per Views."
"Suggesting you’re not as hopeful of beating Travis Roberts as you make out?" Said Sid, smiling having caught Gabriel in his somewhat Freudian slip. Gabriel’s tongue pressed against the back of his teeth.
He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his building anger.
Fuck it.
"Sid – let’s forget for a moment that I have, on more than one occasion, mailed you this prescription - already filled mind - to many of the far-flung places you’ve managed to find yourself on this globe. Forgetting for a moment that I know you have a pharmacist in Ireland who is more than willing to supply you with whatever medication you require upon request. Even if I stretch my imagination to pretend that I'm unaware that you’ve been asking questions about my activities outside of medicine and the ring… Even forgetting all of that, I would still find it difficult to believe that you show up uninvited to ask me to refill your prescription. What do you want, Sid?"
It was Sid’s turn to try and hold in the anger that had billowed within him. He’d begun to swell like an enraged bullfrog as Gabriel reeled off all that he knew.
"Hold on a second. Who the fuck do you think you are?" Asked Sid, reaching out an accusatory finger. "I’m not Dredd. I’m not Dirge. I’m not Harley fucking Addams. I could reach over that desk and drag you to the ground. I could beat you like you’ve never been beaten before."
"Might wanna rethink that idea, pal." Came a voice from the corner of the room. Sid’s head snapped around to see Solomon Weightman, sat in the corner. He'd been there the entire time, lurking in the shadows, just watching in case things had taken a turn,
"What the hell?" Said Sid, looking at Gabriel who was smiling. "You have a fucking body guard?"
"Of course I do." Said Gabriel with a smile. "I know the questions you’ve been asking, Sid. Which means, I know what you know about me. And given everything you know about me, you know I’m not Dredd. I’m not Dirge and I’m not Harley fucking Addams either – you know that I have dangerous enemies and even more dangerous friends."
Sid took a moment to look back at Solomon again, before sneering a little. He took a deep breath and settled himself back into his seat.
"Thank you, Sid." Said Gabriel.
"For what?" Sid asked not just a little petulantly.
"For not doing something which would have resulted in a detriment to our working relationship." Replied Gabriel, pressing the tips of his fingers together.
"What working relationship?" Replied Sid.
"The one you’re about to propose." Smiled Gabriel. Sid's eyes opened wide for a momnet, surprised at Gabriel's knowledge of why he was here. Or was it guess work? Sid couldn't be sure. Either way, he had a moment to decide whether to play along or tell the good doctor to go fuck himself. He made his decision quickly.
"I heard you can get people into the country quickly." Said Sid.
"You’ve heard correctly." Replied Gabriel. "When I stand to benefit from it."
"You’ll benefit from it… I can guarantee it." Said Sid with a smile. "His name is Rogan MacLean.
"Hold on… You’re the reason MacLean is in the country?" Asked Jet, lifting a beer to his lips. Gabriel let out a sigh.
"Yes. Sid was having some trouble getting him a visa and wanted him to wrestle." Said Gabriel, taking a sip of tea. "Suffice to say, hindsight is twenty-twenty."
"You realise that does nothing to help your cause with me?" Said Jet with a somewhat convincing attempt at acting like he’s joking.
"Is that so?" Said Gabriel placing his cup back on the table between them.
"Yes." Said Jet, with a more convincing lack of humor. "Because if you hadn’t brought MacLean into this country Chad would…"
"… Be in the same position he is now." Said Gabriel. Jet stiffened, his relaxed demenur slipping away.
"Watch your mouth, Gabriel… This thing with Nate only takes you so far." Said Jet, the sides of the can in his hand starting to crush inwards.
"I meant no offence, Jet – honestly." Said Gabriel lifting up a hand. "I meant only that if it hadn’t been Rogan, it would have been someone else. It was something of an obsession in our group – and I’ll admit to have been swept up in it. First Moss… Then Chaos. We wanted a trophy cabinet of those who we saw as the Established order."
Jet let out a burst of ironic laughter.
"That’s rich. Look at you now." He said, relaxing back into his seat a little. "I suppose if it hadn’t been Rogan it might have been you – not sure we’d be sat here now if it had been."
"It could well have been. Ichabod agonized of which of us he thought it should be." Said Gabriel with a musing look into the distance.
"Ichabod? I thought you were all equals?" Mocked Jet with a sneer.
"Oh we were – but this was an Ichabod plan, with Rogan execution." Said Gabriel with a grin.
"You going to try and tell me that you had nothing to do with it? Because I didn’t see you do an awful lot to try and stop it?" Said Jet, before taking a drink from the can.
"I didn’t. I wouldn’t even try to claim anything else. Any actions performed by the Engine were performed with my knowledge and with my blessing. Chaos was Ichabod’s idea. Nate was mine."
Jet looked away from Gabriel, out of disgust or anger, Gabriel wasn’t sure, but there was an emotive reaction to this admission.
"I can undo one. The best I can offer is to make Ichabod and Rogan pay for the other." Said Gabriel lifting his tea to his lips again.
Jet opened his mouth to speak, but then thought better of it. He lifted the beer to his lips again, before placing it on the table. He ran this thumb against the side of the can, before deciding to break the silence.
"You were right, you know?" Said Jet looking around the room. Anywhere but at Baal.
"About?" Asked Gabriel, doing everything he could to keep any arrogance out of his voice or his face. It was difficult. His default setting.
"You’re not the first to pick up on the fact that I’ve never actually done anything to avenge what happened to Jez… Or Chad. I guess, I always thought that this business creates scenarios where we could get hurt. Jez and Wallace…. They were… It wasn’t a blood feud… It wasn’t a whim. It just kind of… Happened. It was a match and she could have done the same to him… He just got there first." Jet took another drink "And Chad had taunted Rogan for months and months – there was always going to be a sting in the tail. I don’t know… I’ve just always figured that our business is a dangerous one. Things happen."
"You did the right thing – Ichabod wanted a reaction from you. If you’d have given him that, he’d have won. You did the smart thing… Something I never gave you credit for." Said Gabriel. Jet raised his eyebrows at the back handed compliment.
"Thanks." Said Jet.
" You know what I mean. Besides… you took the title from Rogan," Said Gabriel with a soft smile. "That probably hurt him more than taking his career away. He’d finally gone someway to legitimising the idea that he was the true Engine of Chaos. He’d finally proven to the World that he could belong and then… Here comes Jet Somers and that’s that. If you’d hurt him? He’d have called it the work of Chaos and gotten on with his life. Taking that title… It took something from him that he can’t ever get back."
"Are we still talking about Rogan here?" Said Jet with a half smile.
"Maybe not." Said Gabriel.
A silence built between them for a moment before Gabriel spoke again.
"I know you and I will never be friends, Jet. I could never expect, nor ask that of you. But I want you to know that I took great pleasure in watching you defeat Rogan at Battleground. I took pleasure in knowing that you would be able to find comfort in the idea that you proved Rogan to be a fallacy. Would I have liked that opportunity myself? Of course. But you deserved that a little more than I did." He said, not looking at Jet at all.
"What the hell is it that Eden sees in you, Baal?" Asked Jet, with a legitimate thirst for knowledge. "You and her… You’ve beat the hell out of each other, in and out of that ring for the best part of a year… You took the title away from her, yet someway… Somehow… You convinced her to become your friend. That’s some power of persuasion."
Gabriel let out a laugh.
"I never asked Eden to be my friend. No more than I asked her to be my enemy. The truth of Eden and I is simple – she took a damaged and broken thing and made it a little better. And then she made it much, much worse." He said with a grin.
"Yeah…" Said Jet raising his beer. "She has a habit of doing that."
"Isn’t that the truth…" Said Gabriel lifting his tea.
The silence began to blossom all over, but this time it was Jet that broke it.
"Alright, Baal – think it’s time you were making tracks." He said draining his beer. Gabriel suddenly looked awkward.
"Oh… Of course. Sorry, didn’t mean to overstay my welcome." He said scrambling to finish his tea.
"What? No… It’s just… Don’t you have to meet Killian?" Said Jet, looking at his watch.
"Yes… Yes I do." Said Gabriel. "Thank Sherry for the tea."
"Will do… I’ll see you before Monday?" Asked Jet.
"I’m sure you will." Said Gabriel. "Until then."
Gabriel stood up and pushed the chair under the table and walked towards the door.
"Hey, Gabriel." Called Jet. "How come Rogan put himself between you and Ichabod?"
Gabriel smiled… Now that was a story.
The water washed over Gabriel’s head as he allowed the events of the night to roll over him like the running water. He’d lost. He’d lost the World Heavyweight Championship. He’d lost the World Heavyweight Championship to Rogan MacLean. He’d lost the World Heavyweight Championship to Rogan fucking MacLean.
He’d never live it down.
He he turned off the shower and towel dried his hair, he heard the faint sound of music from just outside the door. He stepped out into the main area of his locker room and found Rogan sat flicking through Gabriel's phone, trying to find some kind of music to listen to.
"Good evening, target demographic." He said as he looked up and smiled at Gabriel.
"Congratulations, Rogan." Gabriel said, without attempting a smile. "But I could do without your bragging tonight."
Rogan grinned as he continued to flick through Gabriel’s phone.
"You think I’m here to brag? About what? Taking the title off you? Oh come on… We both know that was always going to happen. It was always going to be me." Said Rogan with a grin. "You had to know that, deep down. Why else do you think we were thrust together?"
"I’d just assumed it was just Chaotic happenstance." Mocked Gabriel as he pulled on the jeans that he’d recently taken to wearing instead of his shits.
"You’re a funny guy, Gabriel. No-one ever gives you credit for your dry wit." Rogan said pointing the phone in his direction.
"If you’re not here to brag, what is it that you want?" Gabriel asked, thinking back to all those months ago when he’d asked the same of Sid. Of Ichabod. Oh how he wished that question had never existed.
"I said I wasn’t here to brag about the title, I never said I wasn’t here to brag." Rogan said with a hearty smile. "See, it was about a month ago you had the fucking nerve to impress upon me your forgiveness. At the time, I took it on the chin, because I thought it would be fun to be a part of your game, but since then I’ve had some time to think."
"I’m well aware of how long it takes you to think, Rogan. You never were the brains behind our operation." Sniped Gabriel as he pulled on his boots.
"And neither were you, lad." Snapped Rogan. "We both know that Ichabod had plans for me. He chose me to take end Chad’s career. It was me. Not you – he wanted it done, and he gave me the opportunity to do it."
"Is there a point to all of this Rogan? Or are you just self-aggrandizing as always?" Asked Gabriel as he pulled his t-shirt over his head.
The momentary lapse was enough for Rogan to jump to his feet and push Baal back against the door, his hand wrapped around Gabriel’s jaw. Gabriel was tired and weary having fought two difficult matches – Rogan had swooped in at the end to steal the Championship, He had the strength of a rested man.
"No. Don’t you fucking dare, Gabriel. It’s taken me six fucking months to see the truth of this. It was you… It was always you." Said Rogan.
Gabriel smiled as Rogan released him. It would have been easy to lash out, but Gabriel assumed that his grin would be more… Frustrating for his former bretheren.
"What exactly am I supposed to have done, Rogan? You left us, remember? You walked away despite everything Ichabod and I gave you. You ended one of the greats and then… Nothing. Failure after failure, month after month… Nothing came of it until… Jason fucking Ingalls. " Said Gabriel with a sneer. "No wonder you tucked your tail between your legs and ran away."
"No, you see that’s just it… That’s what you wanted me to think. That the Engine had changed course and left me behind. But I know the truth, Gabriel fuckin’ Baal." Said Rogan, his accent becoming harsher as he lost his temper. "You changed the direction. We were Chaos and we were pure – and then you stole the Chaos Championship from us. And then you forged your way as the Cross-Hemisphere Champion on your own. Over and over again, you forced your own agenda and Ichabod was blinded by your constant and never ceasing diatribe."
Gabriel began to laugh.
"You’ve lost the plot, my friend." He said through his chuckles.
"You’re no friend of mine, Baal. You never were… You knew I was the one who would change this industry and you were jealous. You knew it was going to be me who Ichabod chose to follow in his footsteps and you couldn’t bare to play second fiddle to the Irishman who you brought to this country."
"Precisely." Spat Gabriel. "That "I" brought into this country. Everything you have you owe me. Every accolade, every moment. You wouldn’t be stood here as the World Heavyweight Champion if it wasn’t for me. If you had a semblance of recognition about just what I had done for you, you’d be in here kissing my fucking boots. You owe everything to me."
"I owe everything to Sid Griffiths." Said Rogan, calmly.
"You think Sid would be proud of you? Stood in here as the World Champion bleating about how unfair life is?" Gabriel shook his head. "He’d be embarrassed"
"You think I’m complaining, Gabe? On the contrary. I’m here to thank you." Said Rogan, doing his best to ignore the quip about Rogan’s mentor.
"Thank me?" Asked Gabriel, some what caught off guard by the change in tone.
"Yes. Thank you. Because you made me realise just how dangerous you truly are. And one day, you’ll understand what kind of fucking mistake it was to underestimate me."
"Oh I know what kind of mistake it was, Rogan. I never thought you had it in you to steal a Championship. I always assumed you’d be a man and try and take it from me face to face… But looks like I was wrong about that." Gabriel sniped. "But I’m sure you’ll prove your worth when you manage to defend it."
"Don’t push me Gabriel. I’m warning you," Rogan said as Gabriel walked past him, towards his gear which he stuffed quickly into his bag.
"You? Warn me?" Said Gabriel turning to face Rogan. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"
Rogan stepped towards him, his mouth opening again. But he didn’t speak… He just shook his head. He turned towards the door and pulled it open, before pressing the buttons on Gabriel’s phone. As he left he dropped it, as the lyrics burst through the silence.
Just as every cop is a criminal
And all the sinners saints
As heads is tails
Just call me Lucifer
'Cause I'm in need of some restraint…
"Your face was a picture, lad." Said Richard, shuffling through the night vision photos of Gabriel swinging wildly with his cane as various lights on his Christmas jumper flashed with each new image.
"Yes, I’m sure it was incredibly amusing." Said Gabriel, rolling his eyes. Killian chuckled and shook his head as he pushed the pictures into the middle of the table.
"Richard – could you give us a few? There’s a good man." Said Killian. Nottingham’s laughter died in his throat as he looked from Killian to Gabriel, and then to Solomon stood to Gabriel’s right.
"Saul – you and Richard go and have a drink." Said Gabriel, looking at Richard with a smile.
The Butler and the Bodyguard shared a look before shrugging and walking towards Ben behind the bar.
"I have a terrible feeling that they’re going to get on." Said Gabriel watching them walk into the distance.
"Not sure it’s a bad thing, I mean we should always aim to improve the situation of the hired help." Said Killian.
"Not entirely sure that you believe that." Said Gabriel.
"That we should try and keep them happy?" Replied Killian.
"That they’re just hired help." Said Gabriel. He looked around at his fellow Court member who smiled.
"You and I have gotten oddly chummy rather quickly." Said Killian. "Not sure I trust that."
Gabriel nodded his head in something like agreement.
"I think it’s the British thing…" Said Gabriel. "We tend to gravitate to one another. Not really fans of the unwashed foreigners."
"Now come on, I happen to know for a fact that Eden has taken several showers." Said Killian with a smirk.
"Wonderful." Said Gabriel trying to move on quickly. "Not entirely convinced that any of the Devils Most Wanted have ever seen a shower. That Clubhouse smelt somewhat… Masculine."
"Jet may be the exception that proves the rule." Said Killian. "You don’t get salon ready hair without washing."
"I figured he just hung his head over the edge of the bath? Just a wet wipe for everywhere else."
"Jesus Christ, mate, do you have to put that image in my head? Somers bent double doing keyhole surgery with a wipe covered finger…" Killian made a face akin to throwing up in one’s mouth. Gabriel let out a hearty laugh.
Killian called to Ben for refills, their laughter dying down slowly.
"So. Vain." Said Gabriel, knowingly.
"So. Ichabod and Rogan." Said Killian, matching Gabriel’s knowledge.
"We seem to have found ourselves in a couple of career defining moments." Said Gabriel with a smile.
"Agreed." Said Killian, nodding to Ben as he delivered a bottle of Glenmorangie Signet. "It’s been a twat of a year."
"Indeed it has. Your ex was a spiteful arse hole and tried to kill me, arranged for my lifes work to be burnt to the ground, I was ousted from my Order, saw the Engine live and die, found out my best friend was a spiteful arsehole, found out that the original spiteful arsehole was my best friend. I won the World Title, and then lost the World Title to Rogan Fucking MacLean. And now I’m sat in here drinking what has to be your… Eighth… best bottle of Whiskey because you’re not sure if I’m worth the really good stuff."
"Ninth best." Said Killian, taking a sip. "But it’s not my worst. And that’s what I gave you when you were in here back in July.."
"Thank heavens for small mercies." Said Gabriel rolling his eyes.
"This past year hasn’t been all that great for me either. Lost my best friend…." Started Killian.
"Tried to end his career." Replied Gabriel.
"Lost the love of my life." Said Killian.
"Dropped her through three cages." Replied Gabriel.
"Alright, do you have to have an answer for everything?" Asked Killian. "Fucking hell. My point is, I lost the two people who knew me best and had to replace them with you and Jet pissing Somers." Said Killian taking a swig from his glass.
"Wait… Are you showering with Jet now?" Asked Gabriel. Killian sprayed Whiskey onto the table and choked into laughter.
"Dick." He coughed.
Gabriel laughed. As Ben wandered over with a cloth to wipe the table, Gabriel found himself musing upon a question.
"I can’t help but wonder…" He started.
"What’s that?" Asked Killian, pouring himself another drink.
"Out of Ichabod and Wallace, who do you think Holden would be more upset about getting hurt at Horizons?" Gabriel asked.
"Ohhhh…" Said Killain tilting his head to a side. "Good one…"
"I mean… He and Ichabod were pretty close. But I can’t ever remember Holden actually wanting to have sex with him." Said Gabriel.
"I suppose… But then, it was Graber who wanted to get into Alan’s trousers… Not Holden?" Said Killian.
"Point taken… But then again, Holden was created specifically for Alan." Said Gabriel.
"That’s true… Which means, good old Mainstreamer created Holden Orson in an attempt to make Vain drop his trousers and grab his ankles." Added Killian.
"But then again, he never quite made it all the way with good old Alan, now did he? So might be that Holden’s moved on." Said Gabriel.
"You never forget your first love, mate." Said Killian.
"Quite right, old boy… Quite right." Added Gabriel as they both lifted their glasses at the same time.
"You know… The night I won the Global challenge, I watched you fight Holden. One on one." Said Gabriel, knowingly.
"Don’t fucking remind me." Growled Killian taking a drink. "Fucking sneaky prick beat me."
"Technically a chandelier beat you – Holden just happened to be there." Gabriel added with a slight smile. "But it wasn’t the defeat that I noticed. It was your showmanship."
"All style no substance." Said Killian shaking his head. "Maybe me and Orson aren’t so different."
"You don’t believe that any more than I do. You’re different to Holden in every way. He was a weak link – you’re as much our strength as any of us." Gabriel added, not looking in Killian’s way. "Besides, Orson’s obsession with Alan Wallace destroyed him. Yours will destroy Alan."
Killian looked at Gabriel out the corner of his eye and smirked.
"I tell you what – I’ll do you a deal." Said Killian.
"Given your word has gotten me into trouble before, you can excuse me being a little tentative." Replied Gabriel.
"Point taken… But you’ll like this one." Killian added with a smile. "How about we just go all out to break Holden’s precious little heart… Let’s crush them both at Horizons and let him figure out for himself which one hurts him more?"
Gabriel lifts his glass and shoots the contents, before getting to his feet.
"Deal." He says, offering a hand. Killian smiles and shakes.
"Solomon. It’s time we were leaving." Said Gabriel, not stopping to wait for his bodyguard. "Tally-ho!"
Killian shook his head and let out a burst of laugher.
"Prick." He said with a passable attempt at affection.
Gabriel watched his visitor with great care and attention – the man who he’d watched from afar since his arrival in UGWC. His loss in the Global Challenge, his loss to Holden Orson at To Be Determined and No Holds Barred, his elimination at the Massive Melee, his failed attempt to win at Wrestlestock. Over and over again, Ichabod had fallen further and further behind the pack and yet…
And yet…
Here he sat, eyeing Rogan and Solomon with interest, yet despite the odds being decidedly not in his favour, he showed no sign that he was in anyway concerned. Finally, his stare fell upon Gabriel who smiled. This man was… Intriguing… There was something about him. Something… Strange. The losses had no effect on him – it didn’t matter. It was about something else… Something… More.
"Well." Said Gabriel, knowing precisely what his guest had come for, but he wanted to play along either way. "What can I do for you, Ichabod?"
He didn’t answer right away. He smiled as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of Newports before pulling one out and placing it between his lips.
"There’s no smoking in here." Gabriel said, without anger, but stern enough that Ichabod stopped for a second. Of course, it was only a second, before he continued. "If you wouldn’t mind, this is a medical facility and…."
"That’s what you call it?" Said Ichabod looking around the office. "Because to me it looks more like your own personal torture chamber."
Solomon looked from Ichabod to Gabriel and then back again. Baal tried to keep the smile fixed upon his lips.
"I’m not entirely sure what you’re trying to imply, but I can assure you this is a place of healing." He replied.
"Well I don’t think I said anything to the contrary." Said Ichabod taking a long hard drag on the cigarette. "Torture can be clensing for both the recipient and the patron."
Gabriel reached up with his index and forefinger and stroked his chin, before leaning forward and interlocking his fingers, leaning forward on his desk.
"What do you want, Ichabod?" He asked, his patience wearing somewhat thin now.
"There’s a man whose whereabouts only I’m aware of. You may have heard his name, but remained unaware of his significance. I can bring him to you." Said Ichabod, scratching his temple with his thumn.
"Who is this man, and what interest would I have in him?" Asked Gabriel, a little bored, his fixed smile not faltering. "I have cells full of toys to play with. I’ll need to know what is so special about…"
"Nathan Korpi." Said Ichabod, a smile dancing across his lips. Gabriel could tell his fixed smile had shown. "Thought that might peak your interest."
"He’s seen things." Said Gabriel with a smile. "Things that no-one else has ever seen."
"I saw how it changed him… Saw how it broke him. I watched and I waited until I could use it to my advantage and then…" Ichabod moved his fingers through the smoke making it dance on the air. "He was gone. The fucking Choad’s Most Wanted assumed he’d just gone travelling but I never believed that."
"And you know where to find him?" Asked Gabriel with interest. "You, where his own brothers failed?"
"They had no reason to find him." Said Ichabod, stubbing out the end of his cigarette against the palm of his hand. "Human beings have an unnerving ability to forget about those who may cause them anguish and pain. Out of sight, out of mind and all that."
"You’re a resourceful man, Ichabod. You’ve proven that by finding a man who has gone out of his way to stay hidden these past months and years. Why would you bring him to me?" Gabriel asked, leaning back in his chair.
Ichabod chewed over the question, carefully selecting his answer. Gabriel knew that his answer was the pivot upon which their entire future may stand. Ichabod knew it too.
"I come with two offerings. Nate Korpi and an alliance. You and the Celt." He said, pointing at MacLean in the corner of the room. "Me and Holden. Together, we can reshape this entire industry in our image. Call Korpi a… welcome gift."
Gabriel pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth as her surveyed the man who could be come friend or enemy without a moments notice.
"What do either of us have to gain from an alliance? Your record has hardly been stellar as of late – and I’ve just bypassed your friend Holden to win my first Championship in this company. So you tell me, Ichabod – why would the men in this room have any need of those who come baring gifts?" Gabriel asked. He could tell Ichabod was irked that he hadn’t accepted the offer, but in truth, he’d have been more disappointed if Gabriel had welcomed him with open arms. It was Ichabod’s turn to lean forward against the desk.
"My ward can see things – she told me to come here. She told me that we would be destined for something truly…. Spectacular." Said Ichabod quietly. "She’s a special girl. One of the few people in my life that I actually care about. Truth be told, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her – I’d have waited for the precise moment it would have hurt you the most and I’d have struck without remorse or agenda. Just to see you fall."
Gabriel sensed this wasn’t the pitch that either of them had expected.
"Yet she spoke to me of Chaos in it’s purest form. Of a unifying force that would elevate those who had never been given true opportunity. She foretold the destruction of the established order and the rebuilding of this industry in whatever image we chose. You may not think we deserve your time or your energy, Doctor. But I can assure you, at one another’s side, we can be truly great."
Gabriel furrowed his brow at the intense assurance on Ichabod’s face.
"How can you be so sure?" He asked of the man sat across from him over his desk.
"Because she told me. And I believe what she tells me." Said Ichabod, climbing to his feet. "Do we have an accord?"
Gabriel turned to look at Rogan whose mouth curled into something like a smile. He shrugged, but that was enough to show his willingness to try. Gabriel climbed to his feet and took Ichabod’s hand.
"One thing." Said Ichabod. "I need an assurance from you – call it a quid pro quo for me bringing you Nate."
"If it is within my power to give, it’s yours." Said Gabriel adjusting the buttons on his suit jacket.
"Holden’s history is somewhat… " Ichabod stumbled, looking for a word.
"Murky." Said Gabriel with a smile.
"Precisely." Ichabod added, returning a smirk. "I need you to stay out of his head. I appreciate he would be one hell of a case study for you, but I’m not sure how much his mind could take. He and Samantha are…."
"Say no more." Said Gabriel with a nod. "Consider it done."
Ichabod nodded back before turning towards the door. Gabriel spoke once again, stopping him in his tracks.
"I hope to meet this… Ward of yours." He said with a smile.
"Oh you will…" Ichabod added as he reached for the handle of the door. " she’s just dying to meet you."
"He was not!" Said Eden as she managed to guide the multitude of shopping bags through the throngs of human life inside the Starbucks she’d chosen to dispense her Iced Caramel Machiatto.
"Are you serious? You do realize you never paid for your drink?" Gabriel teased as he followed, a Peach Iced Tea in his hand.
"That happens all the time – they just recognize me and decide to do a nice thing for someone whose famous." She said as she finally found a table in the corner.
"Really?" Asked Gabriel lifting his eyebrows. "And are any of these charitable do-gooders ever women?"
Eden dropped her bags to the ground and dropped into her chair with all the grace of a three legged pug.
"Oh shut up." She said as she sighed into place.
"I’m just saying – I tend to follow you around like I’m your gay bestie whilst men give you freebies. I mean you wonder why you end up with Twitter stalkers." He added again with a grin.
"Oh will you stop!" She said, her nose wrinkled in something like anger. "Besides, Lou-Lou has the gay bestie job. At best, you could pass as my gay valet."
"Brilliant." He said as he pulled the lid off the drink and began to sip, iced tea dripping down the sides of his mouth.
"You realise that’s what the straw is for?" Eden said, looking around to make sure no-one was watching the outstanding mess Gabriel was making.
"You think I’m going to sit here sucking on ANYTHING after you called me your gay valet?" Gabriel said incredulously.
"I didn’t say you "were". I said that people would "think" you were." She added.
"Oh good, so long as they can differentiate between the two." Gabriel said with a roll of his eyes.
Eden giggled and took a drink from her straw. Gabriel looked out of the window into the streets of New Orleans.
"You seem to be more comfortable here than you used to be." She said, watching him closely.
"Well it helps that less people despise me now." Said Gabriel with a chuckle. "Or at least, the dangerous ones. It’s good to be able to walk the city without worrying about one of Cypress’ disciples trying to mow me down in the street."
"Would you stop? That never happened." She said, before catching his eye. "Ok, fine… Maybe once, but Cyp said it was an accident."
Gabriel let out a burst of laughter.
"I’m glad Nate is recovering." He said as he took another sip. "Feels like I’m managing to right some of my past wrongs."
"Not just your wrongs." She said, looking ready to scold him. "I know how manipulative Ichabod can be."
"Of course you do… You learnt from the best." He said without looking at her.
"Ouch." She replied. He turned to face her and saw a stung look in her eyes. "Thanks for that."
"You take that as a slight? On the contrary, my dear. I know full well what Ichabod can do to a person. The fact that you picked up a few tips on the way is a testament to your ability to evolve. None of us could survive here if we didn’t pick up a few dirty tricks along the way." He added. She watched him carefully.
"You and Ichabod were always a strange pairing. You and Rogan? Sure. Ichabod and Holden? Definitely, but you and Ichabod always felt like oil and water… Until you didn’t."
"We rarely saw eye to eye in the early days. In fact there were times where I assumed where we are now would have been our only course. I waited and I waited for him to slide a knife between my shoulder blades. Month after month, I waited for him to find a way to destroy me… Yet…" He said becoming wistful in his thoughts. "He and I were all that remained of the Engine. And we trusted one another implicitly. We became something that no-one could have ever believed we could become."
"Sounds familiar." Eden said with a sly smile.
"Eerily." Said Gabriel looking back at her. "But that was the point I think – we become closer than anyone could have dreamed off, and then instead of it being us waiting for one to turn on the other, it became everyone else’s concern. Little by little our trust grew, and everyone else came to assume that one of us was playing a game."
"Wait, are you talking about you and him or you and me?" Eden asked, this time no hint of amusemet.
"Precisely, my dear." Gabriel said as he took another drink.
"I’ve never been in the presence of someone who made me feel so alive, yet so calm at the same time. As if my entire being was exactly where it was supposed to be. That friendship means about as much to me now as anything that I’ve ever possessed in my life."
"Seriously… Who are you talking about?" She asked again.
"Of course." Gabriel replied, much to her frustration.
"I found my trust unwaivering, unyielding and untested. To the point that I never believed I could trust another living soul in the same way. I know you feel that way, now – I can see it in your eyes. You know that the days of you and I trying to destroy one another are over. A new chapter has begun."
"So you… were talking about you and me? Jesus Gabriel, way to be cryptic." She said rolling her eyes and taking another drink from her Macchiato.
"Never did I see the day coming when I would turn my back on Ichabod, Eden. Remember that… Remember that I swore to myself that I would never break his trust or the bond we shared. He and I were brothers… A bond that I told myself could never be destroyed. And look at us now…"
She looked at him, as if she were seeing him for the first time.
"Are you trying to warn me of something?" She asked. "Because if you’re telling me that we’re going back to trying to kill each other, I’m going to need something stronger than a macchiato."
Gabriel smiled.
"No…. That’s not what I’m saying." He said, his wistful look eclipsed by one of friendly amusement as he caught Eden’s eye again. "I’m just rambling, I suppose – I do that."
"You? Noooooo…." She said sarcastically. And then her brow furrowed. "You know… We never did talk about why you changed your mind? Week after week it came up and everytime you told me that you didn’t want to join us… You couldn’t turn your back on him. What happened?"
"Funny you should ask…" Said Gabriel with a smile as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the Note. His thumb slide into the pages at the centre and he opened it up between them. He tossed it on the table and looked up into Eden’s face.
And her eyes widened as she read Ichabod’s words on that final page.
Gabriel looked down at the patch of carpet on the floor of his office that was stained with Samantha’s blood. He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat, with his back against the wall, the Note clutched against his chest just staring at the place where Samantha’s final moments had slipped by. And now she was gone, like breath on a mirror, remembered only by a few who knew her best.
Rogan.
Holden.
Gabriel.
Ichabod.
She had been there for them all, but Gabriel had felt a kind of kinship with her that Rogan and Holden had never been able to find. He’d often wondered if this was why he and Ichabod had so often been drawn to one another. This connection with this beautiful yet haunting girl.
And so the tears came again, unbidden from his eyes.
No matter how much he tried to fight them they would burn his cheeks with the fury of their determined path. He’d cried himself dry over and over again since she’d died. He’d locked himself away without eating for days upon end. He wasn’t sure he’d even moved. The others assumed that he was wallowing in self-pity of the loss of his Championship. They knocked on the door and left food. But he’d touched nothing.
The pain of hunger was nothing in comparison to the pain that gripped his heart.
She was something more than a friend – something like a sister. She knew him better than most, without him ever having to say a single word. She saw into the heart of him and she’d chosen him to represent her. He knew that would eat away at Ichabod. He knew that would have driven a wedge between them… But this? This was something so much more. He didn’t care about Ichabod, about how he felt – Gabriel’s heart had broken for a friend that he’d lost.
He wanted to call Eden. But he knew he couldn’t.
He wanted to call Rogan, but that ship had sailed.
He wanted to call them all in here and confess everything…
But his pain was turning to rage all over again. He could feel it building as it had, over and over since she left this world. How could she do this? How could she leave him with this task knowing what she knew? How could she not have warned him? Told him that this was her plan.
She had to know that he’d worked it out. That he understood. She had to know that when he’d finished writing in the Note at Outlast that he’d learn the truth. So why hadn’t she warned him? Why had she waited until now… Why had she left him to do what had to be done on his own? She’d chosen him, and then she’d left him. She’d told him what needed to be done and then she’d impaled herself upon the very task she’d left behind. And now it would be himself and Ichabod who would have to face the end and they would have to do it together.
And then he would realise all over that them finishing this journey together was what she’d wanted.
He looked down at the Note, with tears staining the cover and turned over the page. Names began to jump out at him as he slowly turned page after page.
He skipped past the story of his namesake, reaching the words Eden – River Oaks and he felt his skin crawl with a chill at the thought of all that he’d put her through in the days before he knew what it was to be her friend. He thought back at his attempts to pull her mind asunder and how close he’d come to succeeding. He closed his eyes as he turned the page. Curator – Order. And now he smiled – the memory of unmasking the Curator and usurping him from his position in the Order of the Inferno.
He saw Nate – Dragon and pondered just how close he’d came to discovering what it was that Nathan Korpi had seen that had made his mind so ripe for the picking. Gabriel had plucked and pushed at Nate’s mind until it had began to collapse upon itself. He’d rebuilt Nate into something that Ichabod had dreamed he would become… Ichabod had dreamed… And now he would have to make good on his word to help Nate to recover. As he should have done in the beginning.
Uriel’s name was the next to draw his eye next to the word David and he delighted in the thoughts of how he’d saved the life of the man who Uriel had loved in order to use him later. And use him he did – even now he could see the fear in Uriel’s eyes as he realised that his sacrifice had been for nothing – David was Gabriel’s man now and Uriel was locked in the bowels of Demonsacre.
Gabriel mused that, even his worst deeds were not done out of pure malice. He’d wanted to shape Eden into something spectacular – he’d been mistaken, but his intention had been pure, if not noble. He’d unmasked the Curator and prevented a man of dubious proclivity from holding a position of great power. He’d wanted to make his friend, Ichabod, happy by playing with Nate’s mind. He’d saved David’s life.
So he had to wonder - and had done out loud into the darkness - what he had done to deserve the pain in his heart. He had to wonder why it was that even before Samantha had succumbed to death, he’d felt cold and hollow. He had to wonder why it was that those who swore to be his friend so often wanted to break his heart.
He turned to his final page and saw Lucy’s name etched in ink and the word love by it’s side. He’d never intended for her heart to break – not really. Yet when she’d called his name during the draft, he knew that the two of them could never stand side by side again. She had gone to great lengths to prove her affection for him – so far as divorcing her husband. This name had entered the Note with regret – Lucy Wylde was an unwitting and unintended victim, and she would be his last.
Gabriel had written her name in the Note just moments before walking out to stand by her side out Outlast. He was sat in his Locker room the World Heavyweight Championship by his side. He'd felt ready. He'd felt complete. He'd ran his fingers over the page of the Note - the final page - and then slid his hand beneath the cover to close it for good. It was only then his eye had scanned the words written in Ichabod’s hand. It was only then that he'd realised that he’d never read all of his brother’s entries. He smiled as he spun the Note around, musing that Eden would approve of him skipping to the end. "The endings were the most fun," she’d say. "Where everything happened."
And then his smile caught in his throat.
And his heart skipped a beat and then pained in a way that felt like it had shattered in his chest.
And he read Ichabod's final entry into the Note.
Gabriel – Ichabod.
"The endings were the most fun," she’d say. "Where everything happened."
I suppose you have to ask yourself what happens when Order and Chaos strike a mortal blow against one another.
It’s an interesting question, of course – but I’ve always believed that Order and Chaos are not at odds like everyone would assume. They’re the opposite ends of the same spectrum. It’s always been that way… Order, descending into chaos within which we find Order. Rebellion. Oppression. Dictators and Democrats. Despots and Republicans. The truth, beknown to them all, is that the reality of order versus chaos is so very simple.
Both can create legacies. Both can destroy futures.
And now we see a battle to determine which path we walk down for this particular moment of human exsiatance. This past eighteen months have seen the rise of Chaos, yet now we see Order starting to be restored. Should we fear the chains that Order so seemingly provides or should we rejoice in knowing that the chaos that destroys our worlds could be brought to an end. The truth is, that we should really accept neither. Chaos with Order. Order with Chaos.
It truly is the only logical way.
Yet here we are faced with two acolytes of Chaos – One in a form purer than the driven snow, the other tainted by the depths to which Chaos has truly taken him. Yes – we are unbalanced in the equation of Chaos versus order which predicates one thing – the balance must be restored. We must find ourself with a single Bastion of Order and a polar champion of Chaos. There can be only two…
So who will fall?
It’s often considered folly to try and predict these kinds of events. Paradigm shifting, universe altering events are so desperately unpredictable that assuming the outcome is at best foolish and at worst, lethal. Yet I have a hunch that on the Horizon is the rise of a new order. That Chaos will do what it can to ensure it is kept in check, but one of it’s staunchest followers will be no more. I may be biased… But I have an idea who that may well be.
And then we shift to a new dynamic – one where the balance must be maintained. This means one thing and one thing alone – those who remain, must stand opposed for all of time. They must never stand side by side ever again. Our world will be changed and those who are left behind will be altered for all eternity. Yes. I have seen it. I have seen every eventuality because I am Order and I am Chaos.
I am above it all - above everything.
I am that who has chosen the champions to fight this never-ending war.
I am this war in human form.
Or at least…
I was…
Please allow me to introduce myself.
My name is Samantha…
And the Engine of Chaos, dies with me.
That goes without saying – just look at the the parts that formed the Engine collective. Look at every piece of the puzzle that came to be the Engine of Chaos and you’ll be at a loss to find a way that this Machine was not built to forge a path of my own creation. During it’s time, the Engine defined an industry in a way that virtually no other group has before. Every Championship won. Almost all on multile occasions. In ways that were unique and chaotic in their glory. And now, they do that which only the Syndicate have ever claimed before.
They destroy themselves because no-one else could do it.
The factas are clear for all to see – Holden Orson may have fallen away due to injury and weakness, but there is no denying. A weapon of our own creation. Jason Ingalls, now the holder of the San Jose Facility, delivered the destructive blow to the Engine of Calamity. It was Rogan's own chosen one, whose mind was broken and rebuilt to believe in everything we stood for, who managed to remove Holden from the fore. He should have stood in Holden's place and rejoiced in the Choas that had consumed him. Alas, he searched for his Man in Black instead.
And then the Man In Black fell upon his own sword.
I saw in Rogan something truly great and truly magical. I saw a man whose path to Chaos was pure at it’s core. A man who held true to everything that the Engine stood for, without any willingness to stray from the path. He was noble in his quest. Unyeilding. Yet when the Engine’s journey began to stray from his vision of purity, he found himself veering onto a path of his own. It was acceptanle to us – we knew there would be a parting of the ways. That in itself was inevitable. Still he failed to capitalise. He failed to live up to what I expected.
That almost broke my heart.
Yet the Engine’s new vision was exciting and without doubt the absolute pinnacle of everything I had foreseen. I remember the days when we all first met. The plans we had. The future that we saw for ourselves and those who we would choose to elevate. I saw it all in my mind and what I saw became reality. We would build and destroy. Rebuild and remould. Over and over until no-one knew what was real and what was manufactured. Yes. Chaos is beautiful in it’s uncertainty, but the order behind the Chaos?
It took something special to be able to see that.
Ichabod and I saw it all – together through those months we watched and planned. We tweaked the strings, playing everyone like marionettes. And when the time came, we would cut the strings and watch as men like Moss Edwards and Chaos would fall never to stand again. We watched as our acolytes rained Chaotic hell on those who stepped into their path. We watched as Championships were won, and Championships were lost. We watched and we waited for that moment in which we would start to break down those who we had built and then rebuild that which we had crushed.
And then that moment came. And everything changed.
I do not blame Ichabod for his frailty. I do not blame him for turning his back on me and what we believed in. I do not blame him for what happened after knife stole life away from the one person who saw him for what he truly was. No-one was to blame for that, but me. Those actions were mine and, whether anyone believes it or not – they were intentional. It was necessary. The death of a silly little girl would be the catalyst to all that you see at Horizons.
And so it begins.
"Doctor, I have a Mr. Griffiths here to see you." Said Vanessa over the intercom. Gabriel smiled as he finished writing in his note pad. It had been a productive meeting with Alan. The soup dumplings had been wonderful. Yet it was the scream – the one which Alan had hoped would go unheard – that had really made him feel… Alive.
It had gone someway to making him forget that he had lost to Cynric this past week. For the moment at least. Yet he was about to face Travis fucking Roberts for the World Heavyweight Championship at No Holds Barred. He could feel it in his water – he would be the man to take the World Championship from The Blessed One… He had to be. What else could his future hold?
"Send him in." Said Gabriel, shaking the self-doubt from his mind. He climbed to his feet and fastened the button of his suit as he walked around the desk. The door opened and Sid Griffith stepped inside – no smile, no hint of pleasantry as he walked towards Gabriel. He hesitated to accept the hand that Gabriel offered, but fought his instincts and took it all the same.
"Sid, good to see you." Said Gabriel, talking as if the two were old friends. "Albeit a little early – your medication isn’t due for another…"
"Two weeks." Said Sid gruffly as he shook rain water off his coat. "Yeah, I know – I’ll be out of the country. Ireland. Going to need to stock up a little."
"You know, as your Doctor, I’m not entirely sure that I should be giving you medication two weeks before it’s required." Said Gabriel with a twisted smile. Sid gave him a piercing glare. "But I’m sure I can make an exception."
"Had a feeling you would." Said Sid pulling up a chair and sitting down.
"Business or pleasure?" Asked Gabriel as he pulled open a drawer and searched for a prescription pad.
"Little of column a, little of column b." Said Sid, looking around Gabriel’s Angelfields office. "That important for you to write a prescription?"
"Of course not – just a little small talk while I find what I need." Said Gabriel.
For the next few moments, they sat in silence, Sid looking at the office little by little, Gabriel searching through his drawers for a pad that clearly wasn’t missing.
"Congratulations by the way." Said Sid with a sniff.
"Hmm?" Said Gabriel, feigning confusion before waving his hand absently. "Oh, The Global Challenge – it was nothing. A trifle."
"A trifle." Snorted Sid. "You know, you keep telling people how easy it was, people are going to start believing you – then no-one will give a damn about the fact that you won it."
Gabriel looked up from one of the many drawers and smiled.
"Well, alright, I’ll have to admit that match against Dirge was a little testing and Dredd is one fat bastard." He replied with a chuckle.
Sid broke character for a moment and shared a laugh.
"So... Travis Roberts?" Sid said, trying to keep the conversation moving. Gabriel sensed this particular tactic and decided to play along.
"Yes. Travis Roberts indeed – quite the formidable opponent." Said Gabriel. "But somehow, I’m not sure that you’ve come here to discuss the merits of the man I plan to defeat at No Holds Barred. Should he defend his Championship at To Be Determined, of course."
"I saw that. Matches randomly drawn on the night? Whose idea was that?" Asked Sid.
"God knows." Said Gabriel scratching his head. "I could well get two shots in the space of two Pay Per Views."
"Suggesting you’re not as hopeful of beating Travis Roberts as you make out?" Said Sid, smiling having caught Gabriel in his somewhat Freudian slip. Gabriel’s tongue pressed against the back of his teeth.
He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his building anger.
Fuck it.
"Sid – let’s forget for a moment that I have, on more than one occasion, mailed you this prescription - already filled mind - to many of the far-flung places you’ve managed to find yourself on this globe. Forgetting for a moment that I know you have a pharmacist in Ireland who is more than willing to supply you with whatever medication you require upon request. Even if I stretch my imagination to pretend that I'm unaware that you’ve been asking questions about my activities outside of medicine and the ring… Even forgetting all of that, I would still find it difficult to believe that you show up uninvited to ask me to refill your prescription. What do you want, Sid?"
It was Sid’s turn to try and hold in the anger that had billowed within him. He’d begun to swell like an enraged bullfrog as Gabriel reeled off all that he knew.
"Hold on a second. Who the fuck do you think you are?" Asked Sid, reaching out an accusatory finger. "I’m not Dredd. I’m not Dirge. I’m not Harley fucking Addams. I could reach over that desk and drag you to the ground. I could beat you like you’ve never been beaten before."
"Might wanna rethink that idea, pal." Came a voice from the corner of the room. Sid’s head snapped around to see Solomon Weightman, sat in the corner. He'd been there the entire time, lurking in the shadows, just watching in case things had taken a turn,
"What the hell?" Said Sid, looking at Gabriel who was smiling. "You have a fucking body guard?"
"Of course I do." Said Gabriel with a smile. "I know the questions you’ve been asking, Sid. Which means, I know what you know about me. And given everything you know about me, you know I’m not Dredd. I’m not Dirge and I’m not Harley fucking Addams either – you know that I have dangerous enemies and even more dangerous friends."
Sid took a moment to look back at Solomon again, before sneering a little. He took a deep breath and settled himself back into his seat.
"Thank you, Sid." Said Gabriel.
"For what?" Sid asked not just a little petulantly.
"For not doing something which would have resulted in a detriment to our working relationship." Replied Gabriel, pressing the tips of his fingers together.
"What working relationship?" Replied Sid.
"The one you’re about to propose." Smiled Gabriel. Sid's eyes opened wide for a momnet, surprised at Gabriel's knowledge of why he was here. Or was it guess work? Sid couldn't be sure. Either way, he had a moment to decide whether to play along or tell the good doctor to go fuck himself. He made his decision quickly.
"I heard you can get people into the country quickly." Said Sid.
"You’ve heard correctly." Replied Gabriel. "When I stand to benefit from it."
"You’ll benefit from it… I can guarantee it." Said Sid with a smile. "His name is Rogan MacLean.
"Hold on… You’re the reason MacLean is in the country?" Asked Jet, lifting a beer to his lips. Gabriel let out a sigh.
"Yes. Sid was having some trouble getting him a visa and wanted him to wrestle." Said Gabriel, taking a sip of tea. "Suffice to say, hindsight is twenty-twenty."
"You realise that does nothing to help your cause with me?" Said Jet with a somewhat convincing attempt at acting like he’s joking.
"Is that so?" Said Gabriel placing his cup back on the table between them.
"Yes." Said Jet, with a more convincing lack of humor. "Because if you hadn’t brought MacLean into this country Chad would…"
"… Be in the same position he is now." Said Gabriel. Jet stiffened, his relaxed demenur slipping away.
"Watch your mouth, Gabriel… This thing with Nate only takes you so far." Said Jet, the sides of the can in his hand starting to crush inwards.
"I meant no offence, Jet – honestly." Said Gabriel lifting up a hand. "I meant only that if it hadn’t been Rogan, it would have been someone else. It was something of an obsession in our group – and I’ll admit to have been swept up in it. First Moss… Then Chaos. We wanted a trophy cabinet of those who we saw as the Established order."
Jet let out a burst of ironic laughter.
"That’s rich. Look at you now." He said, relaxing back into his seat a little. "I suppose if it hadn’t been Rogan it might have been you – not sure we’d be sat here now if it had been."
"It could well have been. Ichabod agonized of which of us he thought it should be." Said Gabriel with a musing look into the distance.
"Ichabod? I thought you were all equals?" Mocked Jet with a sneer.
"Oh we were – but this was an Ichabod plan, with Rogan execution." Said Gabriel with a grin.
"You going to try and tell me that you had nothing to do with it? Because I didn’t see you do an awful lot to try and stop it?" Said Jet, before taking a drink from the can.
"I didn’t. I wouldn’t even try to claim anything else. Any actions performed by the Engine were performed with my knowledge and with my blessing. Chaos was Ichabod’s idea. Nate was mine."
Jet looked away from Gabriel, out of disgust or anger, Gabriel wasn’t sure, but there was an emotive reaction to this admission.
"I can undo one. The best I can offer is to make Ichabod and Rogan pay for the other." Said Gabriel lifting his tea to his lips again.
Jet opened his mouth to speak, but then thought better of it. He lifted the beer to his lips again, before placing it on the table. He ran this thumb against the side of the can, before deciding to break the silence.
"You were right, you know?" Said Jet looking around the room. Anywhere but at Baal.
"About?" Asked Gabriel, doing everything he could to keep any arrogance out of his voice or his face. It was difficult. His default setting.
"You’re not the first to pick up on the fact that I’ve never actually done anything to avenge what happened to Jez… Or Chad. I guess, I always thought that this business creates scenarios where we could get hurt. Jez and Wallace…. They were… It wasn’t a blood feud… It wasn’t a whim. It just kind of… Happened. It was a match and she could have done the same to him… He just got there first." Jet took another drink "And Chad had taunted Rogan for months and months – there was always going to be a sting in the tail. I don’t know… I’ve just always figured that our business is a dangerous one. Things happen."
"You did the right thing – Ichabod wanted a reaction from you. If you’d have given him that, he’d have won. You did the smart thing… Something I never gave you credit for." Said Gabriel. Jet raised his eyebrows at the back handed compliment.
"Thanks." Said Jet.
" You know what I mean. Besides… you took the title from Rogan," Said Gabriel with a soft smile. "That probably hurt him more than taking his career away. He’d finally gone someway to legitimising the idea that he was the true Engine of Chaos. He’d finally proven to the World that he could belong and then… Here comes Jet Somers and that’s that. If you’d hurt him? He’d have called it the work of Chaos and gotten on with his life. Taking that title… It took something from him that he can’t ever get back."
"Are we still talking about Rogan here?" Said Jet with a half smile.
"Maybe not." Said Gabriel.
A silence built between them for a moment before Gabriel spoke again.
"I know you and I will never be friends, Jet. I could never expect, nor ask that of you. But I want you to know that I took great pleasure in watching you defeat Rogan at Battleground. I took pleasure in knowing that you would be able to find comfort in the idea that you proved Rogan to be a fallacy. Would I have liked that opportunity myself? Of course. But you deserved that a little more than I did." He said, not looking at Jet at all.
"What the hell is it that Eden sees in you, Baal?" Asked Jet, with a legitimate thirst for knowledge. "You and her… You’ve beat the hell out of each other, in and out of that ring for the best part of a year… You took the title away from her, yet someway… Somehow… You convinced her to become your friend. That’s some power of persuasion."
Gabriel let out a laugh.
"I never asked Eden to be my friend. No more than I asked her to be my enemy. The truth of Eden and I is simple – she took a damaged and broken thing and made it a little better. And then she made it much, much worse." He said with a grin.
"Yeah…" Said Jet raising his beer. "She has a habit of doing that."
"Isn’t that the truth…" Said Gabriel lifting his tea.
The silence began to blossom all over, but this time it was Jet that broke it.
"Alright, Baal – think it’s time you were making tracks." He said draining his beer. Gabriel suddenly looked awkward.
"Oh… Of course. Sorry, didn’t mean to overstay my welcome." He said scrambling to finish his tea.
"What? No… It’s just… Don’t you have to meet Killian?" Said Jet, looking at his watch.
"Yes… Yes I do." Said Gabriel. "Thank Sherry for the tea."
"Will do… I’ll see you before Monday?" Asked Jet.
"I’m sure you will." Said Gabriel. "Until then."
Gabriel stood up and pushed the chair under the table and walked towards the door.
"Hey, Gabriel." Called Jet. "How come Rogan put himself between you and Ichabod?"
Gabriel smiled… Now that was a story.
The water washed over Gabriel’s head as he allowed the events of the night to roll over him like the running water. He’d lost. He’d lost the World Heavyweight Championship. He’d lost the World Heavyweight Championship to Rogan MacLean. He’d lost the World Heavyweight Championship to Rogan fucking MacLean.
He’d never live it down.
He he turned off the shower and towel dried his hair, he heard the faint sound of music from just outside the door. He stepped out into the main area of his locker room and found Rogan sat flicking through Gabriel's phone, trying to find some kind of music to listen to.
"Good evening, target demographic." He said as he looked up and smiled at Gabriel.
"Congratulations, Rogan." Gabriel said, without attempting a smile. "But I could do without your bragging tonight."
Rogan grinned as he continued to flick through Gabriel’s phone.
"You think I’m here to brag? About what? Taking the title off you? Oh come on… We both know that was always going to happen. It was always going to be me." Said Rogan with a grin. "You had to know that, deep down. Why else do you think we were thrust together?"
"I’d just assumed it was just Chaotic happenstance." Mocked Gabriel as he pulled on the jeans that he’d recently taken to wearing instead of his shits.
"You’re a funny guy, Gabriel. No-one ever gives you credit for your dry wit." Rogan said pointing the phone in his direction.
"If you’re not here to brag, what is it that you want?" Gabriel asked, thinking back to all those months ago when he’d asked the same of Sid. Of Ichabod. Oh how he wished that question had never existed.
"I said I wasn’t here to brag about the title, I never said I wasn’t here to brag." Rogan said with a hearty smile. "See, it was about a month ago you had the fucking nerve to impress upon me your forgiveness. At the time, I took it on the chin, because I thought it would be fun to be a part of your game, but since then I’ve had some time to think."
"I’m well aware of how long it takes you to think, Rogan. You never were the brains behind our operation." Sniped Gabriel as he pulled on his boots.
"And neither were you, lad." Snapped Rogan. "We both know that Ichabod had plans for me. He chose me to take end Chad’s career. It was me. Not you – he wanted it done, and he gave me the opportunity to do it."
"Is there a point to all of this Rogan? Or are you just self-aggrandizing as always?" Asked Gabriel as he pulled his t-shirt over his head.
The momentary lapse was enough for Rogan to jump to his feet and push Baal back against the door, his hand wrapped around Gabriel’s jaw. Gabriel was tired and weary having fought two difficult matches – Rogan had swooped in at the end to steal the Championship, He had the strength of a rested man.
"No. Don’t you fucking dare, Gabriel. It’s taken me six fucking months to see the truth of this. It was you… It was always you." Said Rogan.
Gabriel smiled as Rogan released him. It would have been easy to lash out, but Gabriel assumed that his grin would be more… Frustrating for his former bretheren.
"What exactly am I supposed to have done, Rogan? You left us, remember? You walked away despite everything Ichabod and I gave you. You ended one of the greats and then… Nothing. Failure after failure, month after month… Nothing came of it until… Jason fucking Ingalls. " Said Gabriel with a sneer. "No wonder you tucked your tail between your legs and ran away."
"No, you see that’s just it… That’s what you wanted me to think. That the Engine had changed course and left me behind. But I know the truth, Gabriel fuckin’ Baal." Said Rogan, his accent becoming harsher as he lost his temper. "You changed the direction. We were Chaos and we were pure – and then you stole the Chaos Championship from us. And then you forged your way as the Cross-Hemisphere Champion on your own. Over and over again, you forced your own agenda and Ichabod was blinded by your constant and never ceasing diatribe."
Gabriel began to laugh.
"You’ve lost the plot, my friend." He said through his chuckles.
"You’re no friend of mine, Baal. You never were… You knew I was the one who would change this industry and you were jealous. You knew it was going to be me who Ichabod chose to follow in his footsteps and you couldn’t bare to play second fiddle to the Irishman who you brought to this country."
"Precisely." Spat Gabriel. "That "I" brought into this country. Everything you have you owe me. Every accolade, every moment. You wouldn’t be stood here as the World Heavyweight Champion if it wasn’t for me. If you had a semblance of recognition about just what I had done for you, you’d be in here kissing my fucking boots. You owe everything to me."
"I owe everything to Sid Griffiths." Said Rogan, calmly.
"You think Sid would be proud of you? Stood in here as the World Champion bleating about how unfair life is?" Gabriel shook his head. "He’d be embarrassed"
"You think I’m complaining, Gabe? On the contrary. I’m here to thank you." Said Rogan, doing his best to ignore the quip about Rogan’s mentor.
"Thank me?" Asked Gabriel, some what caught off guard by the change in tone.
"Yes. Thank you. Because you made me realise just how dangerous you truly are. And one day, you’ll understand what kind of fucking mistake it was to underestimate me."
"Oh I know what kind of mistake it was, Rogan. I never thought you had it in you to steal a Championship. I always assumed you’d be a man and try and take it from me face to face… But looks like I was wrong about that." Gabriel sniped. "But I’m sure you’ll prove your worth when you manage to defend it."
"Don’t push me Gabriel. I’m warning you," Rogan said as Gabriel walked past him, towards his gear which he stuffed quickly into his bag.
"You? Warn me?" Said Gabriel turning to face Rogan. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"
Rogan stepped towards him, his mouth opening again. But he didn’t speak… He just shook his head. He turned towards the door and pulled it open, before pressing the buttons on Gabriel’s phone. As he left he dropped it, as the lyrics burst through the silence.
Just as every cop is a criminal
And all the sinners saints
As heads is tails
Just call me Lucifer
'Cause I'm in need of some restraint…
"Your face was a picture, lad." Said Richard, shuffling through the night vision photos of Gabriel swinging wildly with his cane as various lights on his Christmas jumper flashed with each new image.
"Yes, I’m sure it was incredibly amusing." Said Gabriel, rolling his eyes. Killian chuckled and shook his head as he pushed the pictures into the middle of the table.
"Richard – could you give us a few? There’s a good man." Said Killian. Nottingham’s laughter died in his throat as he looked from Killian to Gabriel, and then to Solomon stood to Gabriel’s right.
"Saul – you and Richard go and have a drink." Said Gabriel, looking at Richard with a smile.
The Butler and the Bodyguard shared a look before shrugging and walking towards Ben behind the bar.
"I have a terrible feeling that they’re going to get on." Said Gabriel watching them walk into the distance.
"Not sure it’s a bad thing, I mean we should always aim to improve the situation of the hired help." Said Killian.
"Not entirely sure that you believe that." Said Gabriel.
"That we should try and keep them happy?" Replied Killian.
"That they’re just hired help." Said Gabriel. He looked around at his fellow Court member who smiled.
"You and I have gotten oddly chummy rather quickly." Said Killian. "Not sure I trust that."
Gabriel nodded his head in something like agreement.
"I think it’s the British thing…" Said Gabriel. "We tend to gravitate to one another. Not really fans of the unwashed foreigners."
"Now come on, I happen to know for a fact that Eden has taken several showers." Said Killian with a smirk.
"Wonderful." Said Gabriel trying to move on quickly. "Not entirely convinced that any of the Devils Most Wanted have ever seen a shower. That Clubhouse smelt somewhat… Masculine."
"Jet may be the exception that proves the rule." Said Killian. "You don’t get salon ready hair without washing."
"I figured he just hung his head over the edge of the bath? Just a wet wipe for everywhere else."
"Jesus Christ, mate, do you have to put that image in my head? Somers bent double doing keyhole surgery with a wipe covered finger…" Killian made a face akin to throwing up in one’s mouth. Gabriel let out a hearty laugh.
Killian called to Ben for refills, their laughter dying down slowly.
"So. Vain." Said Gabriel, knowingly.
"So. Ichabod and Rogan." Said Killian, matching Gabriel’s knowledge.
"We seem to have found ourselves in a couple of career defining moments." Said Gabriel with a smile.
"Agreed." Said Killian, nodding to Ben as he delivered a bottle of Glenmorangie Signet. "It’s been a twat of a year."
"Indeed it has. Your ex was a spiteful arse hole and tried to kill me, arranged for my lifes work to be burnt to the ground, I was ousted from my Order, saw the Engine live and die, found out my best friend was a spiteful arsehole, found out that the original spiteful arsehole was my best friend. I won the World Title, and then lost the World Title to Rogan Fucking MacLean. And now I’m sat in here drinking what has to be your… Eighth… best bottle of Whiskey because you’re not sure if I’m worth the really good stuff."
"Ninth best." Said Killian, taking a sip. "But it’s not my worst. And that’s what I gave you when you were in here back in July.."
"Thank heavens for small mercies." Said Gabriel rolling his eyes.
"This past year hasn’t been all that great for me either. Lost my best friend…." Started Killian.
"Tried to end his career." Replied Gabriel.
"Lost the love of my life." Said Killian.
"Dropped her through three cages." Replied Gabriel.
"Alright, do you have to have an answer for everything?" Asked Killian. "Fucking hell. My point is, I lost the two people who knew me best and had to replace them with you and Jet pissing Somers." Said Killian taking a swig from his glass.
"Wait… Are you showering with Jet now?" Asked Gabriel. Killian sprayed Whiskey onto the table and choked into laughter.
"Dick." He coughed.
Gabriel laughed. As Ben wandered over with a cloth to wipe the table, Gabriel found himself musing upon a question.
"I can’t help but wonder…" He started.
"What’s that?" Asked Killian, pouring himself another drink.
"Out of Ichabod and Wallace, who do you think Holden would be more upset about getting hurt at Horizons?" Gabriel asked.
"Ohhhh…" Said Killain tilting his head to a side. "Good one…"
"I mean… He and Ichabod were pretty close. But I can’t ever remember Holden actually wanting to have sex with him." Said Gabriel.
"I suppose… But then, it was Graber who wanted to get into Alan’s trousers… Not Holden?" Said Killian.
"Point taken… But then again, Holden was created specifically for Alan." Said Gabriel.
"That’s true… Which means, good old Mainstreamer created Holden Orson in an attempt to make Vain drop his trousers and grab his ankles." Added Killian.
"But then again, he never quite made it all the way with good old Alan, now did he? So might be that Holden’s moved on." Said Gabriel.
"You never forget your first love, mate." Said Killian.
"Quite right, old boy… Quite right." Added Gabriel as they both lifted their glasses at the same time.
"You know… The night I won the Global challenge, I watched you fight Holden. One on one." Said Gabriel, knowingly.
"Don’t fucking remind me." Growled Killian taking a drink. "Fucking sneaky prick beat me."
"Technically a chandelier beat you – Holden just happened to be there." Gabriel added with a slight smile. "But it wasn’t the defeat that I noticed. It was your showmanship."
"All style no substance." Said Killian shaking his head. "Maybe me and Orson aren’t so different."
"You don’t believe that any more than I do. You’re different to Holden in every way. He was a weak link – you’re as much our strength as any of us." Gabriel added, not looking in Killian’s way. "Besides, Orson’s obsession with Alan Wallace destroyed him. Yours will destroy Alan."
Killian looked at Gabriel out the corner of his eye and smirked.
"I tell you what – I’ll do you a deal." Said Killian.
"Given your word has gotten me into trouble before, you can excuse me being a little tentative." Replied Gabriel.
"Point taken… But you’ll like this one." Killian added with a smile. "How about we just go all out to break Holden’s precious little heart… Let’s crush them both at Horizons and let him figure out for himself which one hurts him more?"
Gabriel lifts his glass and shoots the contents, before getting to his feet.
"Deal." He says, offering a hand. Killian smiles and shakes.
"Solomon. It’s time we were leaving." Said Gabriel, not stopping to wait for his bodyguard. "Tally-ho!"
Killian shook his head and let out a burst of laugher.
"Prick." He said with a passable attempt at affection.
Gabriel watched his visitor with great care and attention – the man who he’d watched from afar since his arrival in UGWC. His loss in the Global Challenge, his loss to Holden Orson at To Be Determined and No Holds Barred, his elimination at the Massive Melee, his failed attempt to win at Wrestlestock. Over and over again, Ichabod had fallen further and further behind the pack and yet…
And yet…
Here he sat, eyeing Rogan and Solomon with interest, yet despite the odds being decidedly not in his favour, he showed no sign that he was in anyway concerned. Finally, his stare fell upon Gabriel who smiled. This man was… Intriguing… There was something about him. Something… Strange. The losses had no effect on him – it didn’t matter. It was about something else… Something… More.
"Well." Said Gabriel, knowing precisely what his guest had come for, but he wanted to play along either way. "What can I do for you, Ichabod?"
He didn’t answer right away. He smiled as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of Newports before pulling one out and placing it between his lips.
"There’s no smoking in here." Gabriel said, without anger, but stern enough that Ichabod stopped for a second. Of course, it was only a second, before he continued. "If you wouldn’t mind, this is a medical facility and…."
"That’s what you call it?" Said Ichabod looking around the office. "Because to me it looks more like your own personal torture chamber."
Solomon looked from Ichabod to Gabriel and then back again. Baal tried to keep the smile fixed upon his lips.
"I’m not entirely sure what you’re trying to imply, but I can assure you this is a place of healing." He replied.
"Well I don’t think I said anything to the contrary." Said Ichabod taking a long hard drag on the cigarette. "Torture can be clensing for both the recipient and the patron."
Gabriel reached up with his index and forefinger and stroked his chin, before leaning forward and interlocking his fingers, leaning forward on his desk.
"What do you want, Ichabod?" He asked, his patience wearing somewhat thin now.
"There’s a man whose whereabouts only I’m aware of. You may have heard his name, but remained unaware of his significance. I can bring him to you." Said Ichabod, scratching his temple with his thumn.
"Who is this man, and what interest would I have in him?" Asked Gabriel, a little bored, his fixed smile not faltering. "I have cells full of toys to play with. I’ll need to know what is so special about…"
"Nathan Korpi." Said Ichabod, a smile dancing across his lips. Gabriel could tell his fixed smile had shown. "Thought that might peak your interest."
"He’s seen things." Said Gabriel with a smile. "Things that no-one else has ever seen."
"I saw how it changed him… Saw how it broke him. I watched and I waited until I could use it to my advantage and then…" Ichabod moved his fingers through the smoke making it dance on the air. "He was gone. The fucking Choad’s Most Wanted assumed he’d just gone travelling but I never believed that."
"And you know where to find him?" Asked Gabriel with interest. "You, where his own brothers failed?"
"They had no reason to find him." Said Ichabod, stubbing out the end of his cigarette against the palm of his hand. "Human beings have an unnerving ability to forget about those who may cause them anguish and pain. Out of sight, out of mind and all that."
"You’re a resourceful man, Ichabod. You’ve proven that by finding a man who has gone out of his way to stay hidden these past months and years. Why would you bring him to me?" Gabriel asked, leaning back in his chair.
Ichabod chewed over the question, carefully selecting his answer. Gabriel knew that his answer was the pivot upon which their entire future may stand. Ichabod knew it too.
"I come with two offerings. Nate Korpi and an alliance. You and the Celt." He said, pointing at MacLean in the corner of the room. "Me and Holden. Together, we can reshape this entire industry in our image. Call Korpi a… welcome gift."
Gabriel pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth as her surveyed the man who could be come friend or enemy without a moments notice.
"What do either of us have to gain from an alliance? Your record has hardly been stellar as of late – and I’ve just bypassed your friend Holden to win my first Championship in this company. So you tell me, Ichabod – why would the men in this room have any need of those who come baring gifts?" Gabriel asked. He could tell Ichabod was irked that he hadn’t accepted the offer, but in truth, he’d have been more disappointed if Gabriel had welcomed him with open arms. It was Ichabod’s turn to lean forward against the desk.
"My ward can see things – she told me to come here. She told me that we would be destined for something truly…. Spectacular." Said Ichabod quietly. "She’s a special girl. One of the few people in my life that I actually care about. Truth be told, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her – I’d have waited for the precise moment it would have hurt you the most and I’d have struck without remorse or agenda. Just to see you fall."
Gabriel sensed this wasn’t the pitch that either of them had expected.
"Yet she spoke to me of Chaos in it’s purest form. Of a unifying force that would elevate those who had never been given true opportunity. She foretold the destruction of the established order and the rebuilding of this industry in whatever image we chose. You may not think we deserve your time or your energy, Doctor. But I can assure you, at one another’s side, we can be truly great."
Gabriel furrowed his brow at the intense assurance on Ichabod’s face.
"How can you be so sure?" He asked of the man sat across from him over his desk.
"Because she told me. And I believe what she tells me." Said Ichabod, climbing to his feet. "Do we have an accord?"
Gabriel turned to look at Rogan whose mouth curled into something like a smile. He shrugged, but that was enough to show his willingness to try. Gabriel climbed to his feet and took Ichabod’s hand.
"One thing." Said Ichabod. "I need an assurance from you – call it a quid pro quo for me bringing you Nate."
"If it is within my power to give, it’s yours." Said Gabriel adjusting the buttons on his suit jacket.
"Holden’s history is somewhat… " Ichabod stumbled, looking for a word.
"Murky." Said Gabriel with a smile.
"Precisely." Ichabod added, returning a smirk. "I need you to stay out of his head. I appreciate he would be one hell of a case study for you, but I’m not sure how much his mind could take. He and Samantha are…."
"Say no more." Said Gabriel with a nod. "Consider it done."
Ichabod nodded back before turning towards the door. Gabriel spoke once again, stopping him in his tracks.
"I hope to meet this… Ward of yours." He said with a smile.
"Oh you will…" Ichabod added as he reached for the handle of the door. " she’s just dying to meet you."
"He was not!" Said Eden as she managed to guide the multitude of shopping bags through the throngs of human life inside the Starbucks she’d chosen to dispense her Iced Caramel Machiatto.
"Are you serious? You do realize you never paid for your drink?" Gabriel teased as he followed, a Peach Iced Tea in his hand.
"That happens all the time – they just recognize me and decide to do a nice thing for someone whose famous." She said as she finally found a table in the corner.
"Really?" Asked Gabriel lifting his eyebrows. "And are any of these charitable do-gooders ever women?"
Eden dropped her bags to the ground and dropped into her chair with all the grace of a three legged pug.
"Oh shut up." She said as she sighed into place.
"I’m just saying – I tend to follow you around like I’m your gay bestie whilst men give you freebies. I mean you wonder why you end up with Twitter stalkers." He added again with a grin.
"Oh will you stop!" She said, her nose wrinkled in something like anger. "Besides, Lou-Lou has the gay bestie job. At best, you could pass as my gay valet."
"Brilliant." He said as he pulled the lid off the drink and began to sip, iced tea dripping down the sides of his mouth.
"You realise that’s what the straw is for?" Eden said, looking around to make sure no-one was watching the outstanding mess Gabriel was making.
"You think I’m going to sit here sucking on ANYTHING after you called me your gay valet?" Gabriel said incredulously.
"I didn’t say you "were". I said that people would "think" you were." She added.
"Oh good, so long as they can differentiate between the two." Gabriel said with a roll of his eyes.
Eden giggled and took a drink from her straw. Gabriel looked out of the window into the streets of New Orleans.
"You seem to be more comfortable here than you used to be." She said, watching him closely.
"Well it helps that less people despise me now." Said Gabriel with a chuckle. "Or at least, the dangerous ones. It’s good to be able to walk the city without worrying about one of Cypress’ disciples trying to mow me down in the street."
"Would you stop? That never happened." She said, before catching his eye. "Ok, fine… Maybe once, but Cyp said it was an accident."
Gabriel let out a burst of laughter.
"I’m glad Nate is recovering." He said as he took another sip. "Feels like I’m managing to right some of my past wrongs."
"Not just your wrongs." She said, looking ready to scold him. "I know how manipulative Ichabod can be."
"Of course you do… You learnt from the best." He said without looking at her.
"Ouch." She replied. He turned to face her and saw a stung look in her eyes. "Thanks for that."
"You take that as a slight? On the contrary, my dear. I know full well what Ichabod can do to a person. The fact that you picked up a few tips on the way is a testament to your ability to evolve. None of us could survive here if we didn’t pick up a few dirty tricks along the way." He added. She watched him carefully.
"You and Ichabod were always a strange pairing. You and Rogan? Sure. Ichabod and Holden? Definitely, but you and Ichabod always felt like oil and water… Until you didn’t."
"We rarely saw eye to eye in the early days. In fact there were times where I assumed where we are now would have been our only course. I waited and I waited for him to slide a knife between my shoulder blades. Month after month, I waited for him to find a way to destroy me… Yet…" He said becoming wistful in his thoughts. "He and I were all that remained of the Engine. And we trusted one another implicitly. We became something that no-one could have ever believed we could become."
"Sounds familiar." Eden said with a sly smile.
"Eerily." Said Gabriel looking back at her. "But that was the point I think – we become closer than anyone could have dreamed off, and then instead of it being us waiting for one to turn on the other, it became everyone else’s concern. Little by little our trust grew, and everyone else came to assume that one of us was playing a game."
"Wait, are you talking about you and him or you and me?" Eden asked, this time no hint of amusemet.
"Precisely, my dear." Gabriel said as he took another drink.
"I’ve never been in the presence of someone who made me feel so alive, yet so calm at the same time. As if my entire being was exactly where it was supposed to be. That friendship means about as much to me now as anything that I’ve ever possessed in my life."
"Seriously… Who are you talking about?" She asked again.
"Of course." Gabriel replied, much to her frustration.
"I found my trust unwaivering, unyielding and untested. To the point that I never believed I could trust another living soul in the same way. I know you feel that way, now – I can see it in your eyes. You know that the days of you and I trying to destroy one another are over. A new chapter has begun."
"So you… were talking about you and me? Jesus Gabriel, way to be cryptic." She said rolling her eyes and taking another drink from her Macchiato.
"Never did I see the day coming when I would turn my back on Ichabod, Eden. Remember that… Remember that I swore to myself that I would never break his trust or the bond we shared. He and I were brothers… A bond that I told myself could never be destroyed. And look at us now…"
She looked at him, as if she were seeing him for the first time.
"Are you trying to warn me of something?" She asked. "Because if you’re telling me that we’re going back to trying to kill each other, I’m going to need something stronger than a macchiato."
Gabriel smiled.
"No…. That’s not what I’m saying." He said, his wistful look eclipsed by one of friendly amusement as he caught Eden’s eye again. "I’m just rambling, I suppose – I do that."
"You? Noooooo…." She said sarcastically. And then her brow furrowed. "You know… We never did talk about why you changed your mind? Week after week it came up and everytime you told me that you didn’t want to join us… You couldn’t turn your back on him. What happened?"
"Funny you should ask…" Said Gabriel with a smile as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the Note. His thumb slide into the pages at the centre and he opened it up between them. He tossed it on the table and looked up into Eden’s face.
And her eyes widened as she read Ichabod’s words on that final page.
Gabriel looked down at the patch of carpet on the floor of his office that was stained with Samantha’s blood. He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat, with his back against the wall, the Note clutched against his chest just staring at the place where Samantha’s final moments had slipped by. And now she was gone, like breath on a mirror, remembered only by a few who knew her best.
Rogan.
Holden.
Gabriel.
Ichabod.
She had been there for them all, but Gabriel had felt a kind of kinship with her that Rogan and Holden had never been able to find. He’d often wondered if this was why he and Ichabod had so often been drawn to one another. This connection with this beautiful yet haunting girl.
And so the tears came again, unbidden from his eyes.
No matter how much he tried to fight them they would burn his cheeks with the fury of their determined path. He’d cried himself dry over and over again since she’d died. He’d locked himself away without eating for days upon end. He wasn’t sure he’d even moved. The others assumed that he was wallowing in self-pity of the loss of his Championship. They knocked on the door and left food. But he’d touched nothing.
The pain of hunger was nothing in comparison to the pain that gripped his heart.
She was something more than a friend – something like a sister. She knew him better than most, without him ever having to say a single word. She saw into the heart of him and she’d chosen him to represent her. He knew that would eat away at Ichabod. He knew that would have driven a wedge between them… But this? This was something so much more. He didn’t care about Ichabod, about how he felt – Gabriel’s heart had broken for a friend that he’d lost.
He wanted to call Eden. But he knew he couldn’t.
He wanted to call Rogan, but that ship had sailed.
He wanted to call them all in here and confess everything…
But his pain was turning to rage all over again. He could feel it building as it had, over and over since she left this world. How could she do this? How could she leave him with this task knowing what she knew? How could she not have warned him? Told him that this was her plan.
She had to know that he’d worked it out. That he understood. She had to know that when he’d finished writing in the Note at Outlast that he’d learn the truth. So why hadn’t she warned him? Why had she waited until now… Why had she left him to do what had to be done on his own? She’d chosen him, and then she’d left him. She’d told him what needed to be done and then she’d impaled herself upon the very task she’d left behind. And now it would be himself and Ichabod who would have to face the end and they would have to do it together.
And then he would realise all over that them finishing this journey together was what she’d wanted.
He looked down at the Note, with tears staining the cover and turned over the page. Names began to jump out at him as he slowly turned page after page.
He skipped past the story of his namesake, reaching the words Eden – River Oaks and he felt his skin crawl with a chill at the thought of all that he’d put her through in the days before he knew what it was to be her friend. He thought back at his attempts to pull her mind asunder and how close he’d come to succeeding. He closed his eyes as he turned the page. Curator – Order. And now he smiled – the memory of unmasking the Curator and usurping him from his position in the Order of the Inferno.
He saw Nate – Dragon and pondered just how close he’d came to discovering what it was that Nathan Korpi had seen that had made his mind so ripe for the picking. Gabriel had plucked and pushed at Nate’s mind until it had began to collapse upon itself. He’d rebuilt Nate into something that Ichabod had dreamed he would become… Ichabod had dreamed… And now he would have to make good on his word to help Nate to recover. As he should have done in the beginning.
Uriel’s name was the next to draw his eye next to the word David and he delighted in the thoughts of how he’d saved the life of the man who Uriel had loved in order to use him later. And use him he did – even now he could see the fear in Uriel’s eyes as he realised that his sacrifice had been for nothing – David was Gabriel’s man now and Uriel was locked in the bowels of Demonsacre.
Gabriel mused that, even his worst deeds were not done out of pure malice. He’d wanted to shape Eden into something spectacular – he’d been mistaken, but his intention had been pure, if not noble. He’d unmasked the Curator and prevented a man of dubious proclivity from holding a position of great power. He’d wanted to make his friend, Ichabod, happy by playing with Nate’s mind. He’d saved David’s life.
So he had to wonder - and had done out loud into the darkness - what he had done to deserve the pain in his heart. He had to wonder why it was that even before Samantha had succumbed to death, he’d felt cold and hollow. He had to wonder why it was that those who swore to be his friend so often wanted to break his heart.
He turned to his final page and saw Lucy’s name etched in ink and the word love by it’s side. He’d never intended for her heart to break – not really. Yet when she’d called his name during the draft, he knew that the two of them could never stand side by side again. She had gone to great lengths to prove her affection for him – so far as divorcing her husband. This name had entered the Note with regret – Lucy Wylde was an unwitting and unintended victim, and she would be his last.
Gabriel had written her name in the Note just moments before walking out to stand by her side out Outlast. He was sat in his Locker room the World Heavyweight Championship by his side. He'd felt ready. He'd felt complete. He'd ran his fingers over the page of the Note - the final page - and then slid his hand beneath the cover to close it for good. It was only then his eye had scanned the words written in Ichabod’s hand. It was only then that he'd realised that he’d never read all of his brother’s entries. He smiled as he spun the Note around, musing that Eden would approve of him skipping to the end. "The endings were the most fun," she’d say. "Where everything happened."
And then his smile caught in his throat.
And his heart skipped a beat and then pained in a way that felt like it had shattered in his chest.
And he read Ichabod's final entry into the Note.
Gabriel – Ichabod.
"The endings were the most fun," she’d say. "Where everything happened."
I suppose you have to ask yourself what happens when Order and Chaos strike a mortal blow against one another.
It’s an interesting question, of course – but I’ve always believed that Order and Chaos are not at odds like everyone would assume. They’re the opposite ends of the same spectrum. It’s always been that way… Order, descending into chaos within which we find Order. Rebellion. Oppression. Dictators and Democrats. Despots and Republicans. The truth, beknown to them all, is that the reality of order versus chaos is so very simple.
Both can create legacies. Both can destroy futures.
And now we see a battle to determine which path we walk down for this particular moment of human exsiatance. This past eighteen months have seen the rise of Chaos, yet now we see Order starting to be restored. Should we fear the chains that Order so seemingly provides or should we rejoice in knowing that the chaos that destroys our worlds could be brought to an end. The truth is, that we should really accept neither. Chaos with Order. Order with Chaos.
It truly is the only logical way.
Yet here we are faced with two acolytes of Chaos – One in a form purer than the driven snow, the other tainted by the depths to which Chaos has truly taken him. Yes – we are unbalanced in the equation of Chaos versus order which predicates one thing – the balance must be restored. We must find ourself with a single Bastion of Order and a polar champion of Chaos. There can be only two…
So who will fall?
It’s often considered folly to try and predict these kinds of events. Paradigm shifting, universe altering events are so desperately unpredictable that assuming the outcome is at best foolish and at worst, lethal. Yet I have a hunch that on the Horizon is the rise of a new order. That Chaos will do what it can to ensure it is kept in check, but one of it’s staunchest followers will be no more. I may be biased… But I have an idea who that may well be.
And then we shift to a new dynamic – one where the balance must be maintained. This means one thing and one thing alone – those who remain, must stand opposed for all of time. They must never stand side by side ever again. Our world will be changed and those who are left behind will be altered for all eternity. Yes. I have seen it. I have seen every eventuality because I am Order and I am Chaos.
I am above it all - above everything.
I am that who has chosen the champions to fight this never-ending war.
I am this war in human form.
Or at least…
I was…
Please allow me to introduce myself.
My name is Samantha…
And the Engine of Chaos, dies with me.
2013, '18, '23 
2013 
