<center>

The Insomniac came very close to defeating Dante's stablemate at Stranglehold, and now he's set his sights on Dante himself. With Drakus, the man who sent Darkness to the hospital, thrown into the mix, the World Champion's number might be up! However, Drakus may be distracted by the special guest ref, newly-crowned Intercontinental Champion Matt Strikmore, as the two have a brutal history, with Strikmore going over Drakus at Stranglehold. Strikmore is also no stranger to the New Hellfire Club.
Whatever the outcome, this match is sure to bring down the house!</center>

Dawn.

Jason Dante steps out into the light, basking for a moment in the first rays of the sun. For a moment, the bliss he feels gives him a high...he's transported away from his complicated quotidian predicament and instead...where is he?

It is that to which he compares this moment that sends him crashing back to earth once again. If only, he thinks. If only she hadn't slipped away...or had she been taken? He'd speculated before, but dwelling on it for too long would cause him consider that dark road that he'd refused to travel. No, what's done is done. How joyful he'd felt when she'd returned to him...the euphoria was indescribable. Nevertheless, he is fully aware now that becoming too wrapped up in the pleasures of life is faulty...they can disappear just as quickly. And then where would he be?

He'd beaten Hammer. Before that he'd beaten The Insomniac.

Conquests have been made, legacies won and lost at the same time. His legacy was becoming quite strong: reviving one of the most feared groups known to TCW's past...back to back wins over their biggest rivals.

And Selenia is back.

Letting out a sigh, he begins to feel the cool morning air seep through his clothing, down to his skin. Reality has a nasty habit of overcoming our more contemplative sides. It neither lets us escape nor become too content. He realizes that he needs to remember that always now.

Dante wouldn't use the word "trapped." But he won't deny his preference for the ecstasy he feels when retreating into his own thoughts. It would only be his pride that would keep him there...and that would be disastrous for the whole world.

Dante doesn't even elect to ruminate on the consequences. At the top of the mountain, most others would love to shove him off...preferably see him hit a few crags on the way down. He is in a powerful and dangerous position.

And yet, if others only knew the true danger of it all, the danger he'd put others in if he'd let go...no, that's not the card to play. There is no threat to be made, other than what he can do on his own. He is without the darkness within him, without aid from the evil forces that helped create him.

Jason C. Dante.

Not for me. It's not for me.
_______________________________

Darkness. Absence of light, absence of joy.

The plush Infinity locker room lies dormant. Its demanding and increasingly disgruntled occupants have long vanished in favor of forgetting their sorrows each in their own way. Highone and Hardy had left together after a few mumblings about "high hard ones." Hammer had slinked away quietly, preferring to regroup on his own and seek spiritual counsel. DeSean was the only one with reason to be exuberant...he'd earned a tag title shot for himself and for his group. That wasn't enough to raise their spirits, and DeSean had had enough sense to keep his celebration quiet until later.

The Insomniac...he's still here. The faint orange glow from a cigarette passes from fingers to lips and is then abruptly snuffed out, restoring the room to its perfect black.

Then there is nothing. Nothing but an occasional creak of the leather couch on which he sits. Nothing but the faint smell of alcohol and the stronger smell of smoke and tar. The odor of sweat has begun to dissipate. If the room had been silent as one dejected spirit after another had made its exit, it was now near dead.

Two in a row.

Two who had made him a laughingstock. Two who had knocked away his shots. Two who had watched him unravel and then tied him up with his own string. Two without the slightest indication that they'd cared...

"I know true hellfire. Your ignorance is your downfall."

Dante had said that right before he'd tormented TI with his own memories.

"I don't believe in cannon fodder."

Darkness had expressed that upon their first meeting.

TI chuckles bitterly.

Bullshit.

The flick of a lighter breaks through the black once again as the flame is brought to a fresh cigarette. TI's face is bare, freshly washed, yet to feel the familiar application of paint once again. The fire is snuffed out as a new faint glow provides another temporary, yet ironic, reminder of the life present in this space.

The Insomniac sniffs before inhaling another breath of fire and nicotine.

He'd been made vulnerable by two dark figures posing as the world's greatest hopes. The thought burns his mind as the smoke does his lungs. Jeremiah had been so annoyingly persistent about the power of fear and how important it was to reclaim his former aura in order to compete in TCW's new world.

TI rubs his temple with his other hand. The images of brimstone and decay force their way back to the front of his mind. The faint effects of Dante's assault on his thoughts linger, as does the smell of sulfur.

Jeremiah had turned out to be a manipulative little piece of shit, but he was right about the power of fear. Dante and Darkness had a lot of that power at the moment...they'd taken his spot in his absence and defended it vigorously. He'd been their pawn, as Bleeder had predicted.

But one thing Jeremiah hadn't accounted for was the power that came with realizing one's own mortality. What is there to fear if you've already accepted your ultimate end? Why worry about your vulnerability if you've accepted that you're vulnerable?

Dante and Darkness had handed him losses. They'd also handed him his greatest gift.

When played skillfully, pawns take kings.
_____________________________________

Jason Dante steps into the terminal, quickly surveying those around him. The company had called that morning advising him that he'd need to take a later flight...the jet was temporarily grounded for repairs. That news hadn't fazed him too much. Appointments in Germany weren't scheduled until the next day, so he is in no hurry.

He watches as the jet taxis into the hangar. A faulty issue with the wing, he'd been told. It would take about an hour and a half or longer. He sets down his briefcase and checks his watch. It's early enough that he could gather the group for a late dinner.

Dante suddenly frowns. Of course, whether he'd be able to schedule that dinner would depend on how well the next few moments go.

"You sensed me coming, didn't you?"

Dante turns, regarding The Insomniac contemptuously. "What can I say? I know the smell of defeat."

TI smirks. "Zing."

The Sleepless One steps toward Dante and notices the tail of the jet just before the hangar door eclipses it. Dante's body tightens. The truth of the matter is that The Insomniac was not an easy triumph for himself or his associate, so he feels his caution warranted. He won't acknowledge that in front of the painted one, though.

"Plane troubles, Dante?"

"Temporary."

"Well, we all are."

"What do you want?"

The Insomniac turns and comes nose to nose with the albino, his eyes hardening. Dante remembers a moment not so long ago when they'd begged for mercy...he sees no sign of that today.

"I'll bypass the stock smartass response and be perfectly honest. I want to take you and your little caveman friend down a few pegs. I want to knock the smug looks off your faces—along with a few teeth—and show you that anyone, at any time, including you and your voodoo skills, can be beaten, humiliated, and left to wallow in your own doubt just like the plebes that you believe you're so far above.

"In fact...I know a few others who need this proven to them."

**

The mirror shatters as the man's face gets slammed into the glass. He slumps to the floor as blood-spattered shards cascade around him. He struggles to one knee, but meets with a boot to the ribs for his efforts. A muffled sound escapes his lips as the air is forced out of his lungs. Two large gloved hands grab him by the lapels and he is thrown backwards, the back of his head hitting the towel dispenser with an echoing bang before he crumples to the floor yet again.

**

The words are calloused, measured, and sincere. Dante listens for desperation or hurt pride and hears none. Nevertheless, he is determined in his own right.

"This coming from the one who was supposed to bring Infinity fortune and glory. You've got two big losses on your record now, Insomniac. What could you do this time that might change the outcome?"

TI looks directly into Dante's eyes. "Do I seem like I'm the same man I was a few weeks ago?"

**

The second man recovers from across the room and charges at TI, who sidesteps him and sends him gut-first into the counter. As he sinks to his knees, The Insomniac takes a fist full of hair and slams the other man's forehead into the formica, a sickening thud resonating throughout the room each time. Finally, The Sleepless One lets the man slump to the tile, the white cracks becoming tributaries of red extending further and further.

**

Dante matches TI's gaze with one of his own.

"I don't think you are. But your new attitude has yet to bear fruit."

The Insomniac smirks. "'Your ignorance is your downfall.'"

**

Staggering to his feet, the first man rubs the back of his head before stepping in again. In anticipation, TI had already grabbed the metal trashcan and hurls it toward his attacker. The man swipes it away, but TI is already there with his cane, catching his adversary at the crux of the neck and shoulder. TI wraps his arm around the other's and comes down with his elbow, a crack resounds through the room along with a howl of pain.

Another cane shot, this time to the temple. Another to the nose, sending a spray of blood across the wall. One final blow to the back of the neck and the man is down once again, motionless.

**

"Think about the present, Dante. It's the only thing that matters. Dwell on what you've accomplished and you'll miss the new day and the new situation in which you find yourself. Embrace it. Drink it in. But before you do, make sure you know what you're drinking."

TI takes a few steps backwards before turning on his heels.

"'Of all the griefs that harass the distrest,
Sure the most bitter is a scornful jest.'"

**

Satisfied with the landscape of distress that he's created, The Insomniac walks briskly to the second stall and kicks open the door. The metallic bang startles the man inside, though he attempts to maintain a calm exterior.

TI towers over Pryce, the cold grey of his eyes daring the smaller man to speak. He leans in, pleased with what he's created.

"Do me a favor. Will you do me a favor?"

Pryce doesn't answer. The Insomniac slams his fist on the toilet paper dispenser.

"I asked if you'd do me a favor."

Pryce looks at him defiantly. "Fine."

"Tell your boy that things will turn out differently this time. And tell him that that's a promise."

TI stands up straight and walks back out into the room. He relishes what he's done here for a moment before twirling his bloody cane and walks out into the airport lobby to meet his other opponent before he boards his flight....

Dante tossed on a shirt and with purpose walked up to Misfit who was still sitting at the laptop in the Dante and Selenia's locker room. He looked at the man who had been his enemy since he had made his debut in the 411federation and who know simply because he had gotten the thumbs up from Darkness now was supposed to be his ally and buddy.

Dante wanted none of that, and the green haired man's seemingly calm way to act was even more of an affront to Dante, he hated the fact that Misfit drew breath he admitted to himself. He buttoned up the last few buttons and took a deep breath that made his tortured ribs hurt like hell itself as he tried to conjurer up enough fake buddy tone to make the whole thing seem friendly.

"Misfit..." he began and cursed as he of all people here should have used his real name.

"I mean Gideon?" He started over.

"Yeah?" The green haired man replied and gave Dante a look as full of faked calm and peace as Dante's own was.

"I think you and I have a few things to talk about, what do you say we talk face to face."

Misfit's face was the very image of distrust as he said.

"Yeah, sure..." with a voice that had far more confidence in it then he really felt.

They stepped outside the locker room and Dante immediately began his verbal onslaught on Gideon Flint.

"Exactly what the fuck is this supposed to mean, Misfit?"

"It would be a lot fucking easier to answer that if I knew what the hell you mean Dante."

"Don't try to play with me Misfit, I know what you feel about me and that you would be first in line to rip my head off and spit down my throat, don't you think that makes it a bit fucking strange that you suddenly joined the club."

Misfit shook his head.

"You know what pisses me off with you Dante? It did take me a while to figure that out, but I did figure it out."

Dante played innocent and asked with more the just a little acid in his voice.

"Oh and what would it be with me that has angered the mighty Acid Misfit to such a degree that he has decided to hate me?"

Misfit it seemed swallowed the bait and launched a tirade.

"Let's start with that fucking look on your face, you walk around the fed and everywhere else you go looking like you owned everything, like everyone was a slave to you and your grand plan."

Dante felt that blow, it simply wasn't true any more. At least he didn't think it was.

"You were born with a silver spoon in your fucking mouth and more chances then anyone deserves, and still you whine and complain." Misfit continued before Dante could even mount a defence.

Gideon Flint took a deep breath before finishing off his damaging analysis of Dante's character flaws with a simple.

"You simply are so fucking full of yourself that it makes me sick!"

Having heard this verbal dressing down of himself, Dante had slowly gotten more and more pissed off at Misfit, who the hell was this guy to tell him that no matter what he had changed and what bad sides of his personality he had thrown out he was still the same. How dared this...this...human (Dante found himself thinking against his own will) that obviously had a part in Selenia being taken from him before End Game. Dante had come to the situation where he ignored that he knew that Seth had been behind Selenia's absence and that Misfit and Lou Cyphere (aka Lucifer) had just gotten in the way and become suspects because of the same attitude that Misfit had just chastised Dante for. The Albino too a deep breath of his own and launched a verbal attack that was no less effective them Misfit's

"Full of myself? That's fucking rich coming from you, how long were you planning on strutting around with that name you stole from Acid Jackrabbit?"

"Fuck you, he put it on the line and I beat him for it."

Dante ignored Misfit's true claim as he was far beyond caring about what was true at this point.

"You talk about me acting as if I was the shit and how I act as if I had problems...how about you let go of some of your old pains and show me how good you are at that?"

"That depends on which past pains you mean Dante." Misfit said with a tone in his voice that warned Dante not to go where he thought the albino was about to go.

Dante fired off a smirk he would later regret.

"Well, I helped Darkness to get out of hospital...you left your partner laying there with his body slowly rotting away."

The comment hadn't mentioned Xavier Clerick by name and to be honest Dante didn't even need to say the name to get the violent effect he was looking for. Dante was no longer in control of his emotions, his anger and the pain from the match had caused him to cross a line he would never have crossed.

The reaction was even more violent the Dante had expected. Misfit charged him and grabbed him by the neck and put both his hands around Dante's alabaster coloured neck. Through gritted teeth and with a temper seconds from exploding Misfit lay down the law for Dante.

"If you ever talk about Omega like that again Dante, I will kill you!"

The argument had passed beyond semi-hostile BS and into the realm of real hostility, at this point Dante and Gideon Flint were more enemies then they had ever been before. Dante pushed the irate Misfit away and without a word walked off.

He stormed into the locker room, didn't say a word to Darkness and grabbed his coat and bags. As he was about to walk out he looked at Selenia, given that she and Darkness had heard the violent argument in the corridor she had expected a face full of anger and hate, and to her distress that is what she saw on the champion's pale face. This man hated Gideon Flint and she was sure Flint felt the same way. Without a word she followed him to the hotel and they both left for Cologne without any other NHFC member making them company.

Cologne, Germany December 11th 1:25 AM

Dante was worn out, his ribs and every other bone in his body hurt after the hell in a cell match, he had retained but paid a dear cost indeed.

The argument with Misfit hadn't helped either as he felt more miserable then before, the green haired punk ass had some fucking nerve to waltz right into the club with only Darkness giving him the thumbs up. Dante grumbled on as he walked down what is a popular street in summer in Cologne, he was even more miserable because of a half scalding Selenia had given him, everyone was ganging up on him it seemed, Darkness had brought Misfit in and Selenia had given him "comments" about how he had carried himself in Greece.

Dante wondered if his beloved Selenia had become a bit more vocal now that she had her own body. He shrugged and jammed his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat and trudged on down the wet street. The cold started to bite into his skin as he began to ponder if he could go back to the hotel, ask Selenia to forgive him and...

He found himself disgusted at the thought...maybe even make peace with Flint.

He knew he needed a warm bed and some food soon or he would go crazy. He sighed and walked on. He stepped out on one of the smaller roads that lead up to the larger main road he had walked on thus far and yawned. It had been a long and horrible day to say the least and he needed some rest.

He stretched his arms that were still hurting from the beating he had taken in the cell. When he opened his eyes again he felt a hand grab him by the coat and throw him against a nearby wall.

Air rushed out of his lungs as his back hit the brick wall. That first impact was followed with a series of slaps and punches that would have turned a lesser man to a cripple, but against the enhanced Jason Dante they only caused some pain and a slight bleeding from his nose and upper lip.

As he stood leaning against the wall trying to wipe the blood from his face and catch his breath, a voice spoke that he had hoped to never hear again.

"Hello Jason...remember me?"

the man who stepped into view was a good two inches taller then Dante and was far more heavily built, he had the look of a well trainer athlete, in other words Dante was face to face with a living brick wall.

A brick wall with the attitude of a murderer and a grudge like no other man against the man he had just attacked. As the albino stared at the man he had once left in a hospital bed and left for more or less dead, he said the only name he knew this man had.

"Drakus..."

Drakus smiled a wolf's grin.
"So glad to hear you haven't forgotten me Jason, people on a self-improvement journey like you seem to forget their old sins quickly."

Drakus reached out and grabbed Dante by his neck and lifted him of the ground.

"Do you have any idea how I have longed for this? You put me in that fucking hospital bed when i thought my life was improving, when I had found some fucking piece of happiness and someone I thought i could trust!"

Drakus was spitting as he spoke. Dante felt Drakus hands clench tight around his neck as if they couldn't decide whether to break his neck or to strangle him. Dante fought to stay conscious as the large man kept the flow of air out of his lungs, in a desperate attempt Dante kicked the larger man in the balls and with a angered yelp Drakus let him go. Both men were panting and struggling to regain their footing.

"I wondered what took you so long Drakus, you've been around for a while now and now calls or anything." Dante said between gasps for breath.

"I was worried that you didn't love me any more." The albino concluded.

Without a further word Drakus charged again, but this time Dante was prepared for the attack. He dodged the initial attack by simply sidestepping Drakus furious charge. As the larger man turned to attack again he was met with a stiff kick in the smaller ribs that made him gasp for air.

"Stay away from me Drakus" Dante said. "Let the past be the past and live with it."

Drakus sneered at Dante.

"I live with my sins and my past every day" Dante continued. "I don't have a choice, I made bad decisions in the past, and I live with them."

Drakus spat at Dante and the goblet of blood ran down the Albino's face.

"Bullshit, you built your career on the ruins of my life...You sent me to hospital knowing you would be elevated without me!"

Dante stared at Drakus in astonishment. He knew that the tank of a man was right, Dante had built his career on leaving Drakus behind. Dante was prepared to pay the debt back, Drakus would be a great asset to the New Hellfire Club, things could be made right again Dante had even liked Drakus a bit back in their early days.

Sadly a stiff punch that lifted the albino off his feet and dropped him into a water puddle near by ended that thought process. Drakus grabbed Dante by his hair and dragged him to his feet.

"Listen closely to me Dante don't you dare miss a single syllable...You WILL pay for your crime...and you will pay for it now." Drakus said between gritted teeth.

As Drakus was about to finish his payback a voice in German interrupted the proceedings

"Halt! Polizei Stehen bleiben!"

Drakus let out a "Fuck" dropped Dante and ran.
The officers of the help Dante to his feet and in broken German Dante says:

"Ich bin ein wrestler mit dem TCW, können sie mir bitte zu mein hotel bringen?"

("I'm a wrestler with the TCW could you please bring me to my hotel?")

The officers helped the beaten down Dante into the car and dashed off towards the hotel for which he had a room key.

*****

Drakus stopped running after a few blocks, he was sure the cops weren't after him any more and we was beginning to feel tired. He lets out a scream of primal rage and punches a trash can into a new and less useful shape. His venting of rage is halted by a man speaking in words as if they came from a book.

"Some men claim anger as their fuel as their drive, yet you claim it to be your blood your whole begin your reason to be."

Drakus looked up at the man who approached him.

"You."

"Yes, me the decidedly un-merry wanderer in the night. I saw your attack on the albino, such rage is rare these days."

"Fuck off Insomniac, I don't have time to listen to you lectures about old stories."

"Of course not Drakus,you are one busy man I see, you seem to have the esteemed champion's number"

A grin with no joy but full of malice passed across Darkus lips.

"I have reasons to have his number." he began before he stormed the Insomniac and pressed the face painted man up against a wall.

"...And I seem to have a reason to have your number too Insomniac."

At this point, TI actually wondered if threatening Pryce had been worth it...
*****

Dante stumbled up the stairs after having told the cops he was just a bit worn and shocked by the "mugging" as he had called it. They had gotten his cellphone number and would make an official complaint.

Something Dante knew was pointless Drakus had help these days, at least that was what Darkness had told him. Dante didn't know if he still could trust Darkness as he had gotten Flint into the club. Dante failed his third attempt at getting the key into the key hole and as he did he found his support from the door had gone away. With a less the stylish half-dash and entered the hotel room he shared with Selenia and stopped as he reached the couch.

He dropped on it and closed his eyes, for the first time in a long time he felt safe.

"Jason, what in the name of hell has happened to you?" Selenia asked when she saw his bloodied nose and his torn and dirty clothes. She walked up to him and sat down on the couch. Dante drew a deep breath and told her.

"Drakus...Drakus happened...He must have stalked me."

"Drakus, but why would he?"

Dante knew that he would come to regret sealing off that part of his mind to Selenia and now came the time to pay the piper.

"Drakus and I were teaming when I was a rookie, we could have done well...but then Bleeder came into the picture. And I had to take Drakus out to prove my worth to the Hellfire Club."

That was the short version of course, but it got the problem across.

"And now he wants to hurt me and make me pay like he did."

Dante sat up and bowed his head.

"I built my career on his ruin...all the titles I have won all the matches I have won everything was built on ruining him."

"You sound like you want him to succeed." Selenia said.

Dante looked up at her and images of Misfit in the Hellfire club flashed before his eyes and he nodded.

"Yes, a part of me wants him to."

Titanium Insomniac pushes Drakus away. Drakus is still breathing heavily thanks to his confrontation with Dante and the ensuing flight. Titanium Insomniac backs away a few steps, raising his cane to strike a clubbing blow if necessary.

Titanium Insomniac: "Think about your next action very carefully. This is a turning point -- you can choose to listen, or lose an opportunity to see your fondest desire finally realized."

The cane is poised to strike. Despite being cleaned after the confrontation in Greece, a few small flecks of dried blood remains on the tip. That detail doesn't escape Drakus' notice.

Drakus: "What do you want?"

Titanium Insomniac: "Didn't your lawyer tell you?"

Drakus shakes his head.

Titanium Insomniac: "That's interesting. I gave him a message for you. It seems he decided against passing it on. Why would that be?"

Drakus: "Ask him."

Titanium Insomniac: "Hmmm, maybe I will."

The imposing Bleeder champion takes in their surroundings, one of Koln's more fetid alleys, narrow and cluttered with all manner of garbage. Titanium Insomniac chuckles.

Titanium Insomniac: "What an appropriate venue for this conversation -- among the cast-off refuse of society. And left here once again by Dante. This must be deja vu all over again for you."

Drakus: "If you saw what I did to Dante, you'd shut the fuck up about things you don't really know about."

Titanium Insomniac: "Oh, I know more than enough."

Drakus: "Yeah, Pryce told me you'd try your usual bullshit headgames."

Titanium Insomniac: "Wouldn't dream of wasting the effort. No, this is far more straightforward, something even you can grasp and appreciate. Pay close attention, and maybe next time Dante won't escape so easily."

Drakus: "Stop ... not another word."

The Bleeder champion stands his ground as Drakus stalks nearer, now close enough to strike.

Drakus: "I already know what you're gonna say. I know what you want, you and the rest of Infinity. You want those belts, you wanna take 'em from him."

Titanium Insomniac raises an eyebrow and shrugs almost imperceptibly.

Drakus: "Well I don't give a fuck about that. I just want to make him suffer for what he did to me -- and I'm not talking about one match on one night. I want this to last a whole lot longer. I wanna make his life a living hell, break his spirit, then break him in half. I just wanna see the look in his eyes when everything he cares about is gone, right before I cripple him."

Titanium Insomniac wipes a nonexistant tear from his eye, taking a bit of facepaint in the process.

Titanium Insomniac: "How touching and heartfelt. Is there a point?"

Drakus: "I know what you want."

This seems to amuse Titanium Insomniac even more.

Titanium Insomniac: "Oh? And what's your answer, then?"

Drakus: "Yes."

Titanium Insomniac: "Yes?"

Drakus breathes deeply, shakes his head almost imperceptibly, then looks Titanium Insomniac in the eyes.

Drakus: "Yes, I'll work with you to take him out."

Titanium Insomniac: "And why would I need your help?"

Drakus: "Because if we do this together, we can make sure he doesn't walk away from the match at Friction. Then you get what you want, and I get what I want. Either that, or it's every man for himself, and maybe nobody gets what they want."

For the first time since the beginning of their conversation, Titanium Insomniac lowers his cane, leaning on it casually as he considers Drakus.

Titanium Insomniac: "You may be learning after all. But don't for a moment think I'm motivated by the desire to capture Dante's titles. No, Jason Dante will be an example, a representative of all the self-important kings and prophets who wrap themselves in delusions of a higher purpose to justify their egos, their hypocrisy and their sins. I think you know what I'm talking about, don't you Drakus? Dante taught you the same lesson I'll teach him -- that we are all insignificant, that there's no grand destiny written in the stars that can't be undone in a second on a whim by the lowliest of pawns."

Drakus: "You callin' me a pawn?"

A small chuckle.

Titanium Insomniac: "We're all pawns, Drakus. The sooner you realize that, the better."

Titanium Insomniac turns his back on Drakus and begins walking away, apparently confident that his opponent won't take advantage of the opportunity. At the end of the alley, Titanium Insomniac pauses.

Titanium Insomniac: "Be seeing you, Drakus."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You don't believe him, do you?"

Pryce stares at Drakus across the cafe table, incredulous.

Drakus: "What did he tell you before?"

Pryce: "Nothing of any importance. The man is toying with us again. If you allow him to lead you by the nose, he'll use you for his own ends and dispose of you as soon as the opportunity arises."

Drakus: "Us? This is between him and me."

Pryce shakes his head.

Pryce: "No, no, no, don't you see ..."

The attorney's tone is that of a disappointed parent lecturing a slow child.

Pryce: "This is almost surely part of some plot by Infinity to wipe out the opposition. He is not to be trusted."

Drakus: "You think I trust him?"

Pryce: "Then why ...?"

Drakus: "I want Dante. Once that's done, I can settle up with the Insomniac."

Pryce: "He may not wait."

Drakus: "Then I'll deal with him too. But Dante comes first. Isn't that what you and your boss wanted anyway? Isn't that why you got me back in TCW in the first place? Isn't that why you talked to Stern and got me in this match?"

Pryce sips his espresso.

Pryce: "Neutralizing Mr. Dante is one of my employer's top priorities, and I am confident that given the opportunity you can see to it that he never poses a threat to my employer's interests again. But I can't allow you to walk into a trap before that happens."

Drakus: "Then I guess you better watch my back."

Pryce looks around the cafe, which only has a few customers, mostly locals. There are no familiar faces, no one from TCW, no one from Infinity, and more importantly no one from Dantecorp.

Pryce: "That will be no small task this time. In addition to the potential threat posed by Titanium Insomniac and his allies in Infinity, there is also the Hellfire Club, as well as Mr. Dante's considerable personal resources, to contend with. As per usual, I've contacted professional acquaintances who know this area well and can arrange to keep tabs on both your opponents, but they may also be doing the same to you."

Drakus: "I hate that cloak and dagger shit."

Pryce: "That's why you should be grateful to have my services at your disposal."

Drakus: "As long as I get what I want."

Pryce picks up his briefcase and produces a single sheet of paper.

Pryce: "This should be an adequate start."

It's a list of times, places and events in and around the city in the days leading up to Friction, printed on TCW stationary.

Drakus: "What's this?"

Pryce: "Mr. Dante's itinerary of federation-sponsored activities while in Germany."

His attorney grins like the cat that swallowed the canary, but Drakus ignores it. Instead, he studies the list. Most of it is the usual -- interviews, personal appearances, house shows. One item, though, catches his eye. He puts the list on the table and points.

Drakus: "Look at that."

Pryce doesn't seem impressed.

Pryce: "What about it?"

Drakus: "Gave me an idea. You've got people inside the fed, right?"

Pryce: "I have some contacts. What do you have in mind?"

Drakus: "Anybody in the production department?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jason Dante sighs and rubs his temples. It's too early to be stuck in a dark room with half a dozen of TCW's production and marketing people. He'd tried to get out of it, but Commissioner Stern insisted. On top of all the other shows, appearances and publicity she scheduled for Dante on the tour, he has to come in and look at footage for his new DVD because Stern wants it in stores as soon as possible.

Sweeney: "How was that?"

TCW director James Sweeney and the fed marketing people eagerly await the world champion's response to the last segment of the new DVD celebrating his career. Dante raises his head, stares at them for a few seconds, then waves a hand.

Dante: "Fine, fine. How much more is there to go through?"

Sweeney: "Only a few more segments. This next piece is about Ahriman ..."

One of the production team rolls footage. For a few seconds, there is nothing but static on the monitor. Then the image of a younger Dante appears, standing in a 411 ring. At his side are former 411 wrestler "Marvelous" Matt Phillips and a long-haired man still recognizable as Drakus.

Dante (on monitor): "Earlier today, myself and my associates, Mr. Phillips and Drakus, struck the first blow in the battle between two teams of people who hope to make a future for themselves here in the 411Fed. The difference between the people in front of you and those who are cowering backstage licking their wounds right now can be summed up in one single word ... TALENT! On our side of this match we have three of the brightest shining stars ever to enter the wrestling business. We have ..."

The footage skips.

Dante (on monitor): "Drakus, a man whose very name will become a byword for pain and agony."

Now a closeup of Dante's mouth repeating the same words.

Dante (on monitor): "... a byword for pain and agony."

Another skip. The next segment is from a backstage interview. Dante is alone, carrying the 411 European title.

Dante (on monitor): "If there has ever been a dream team in the 411 Fed, this has to be it ... I bring speed and agility, and Drakus brings strength and brutality ... We simply are the perfect tag team."

The footage cuts back to the other segment, Jason Dante in the ring alongside Drakus.

Dante (on monitor): "... You will not be able to shatter the bond between us. You will not be able to hinder us as we realize our destiny. You see, you are witnessing a monumental event right now. You are witnessing the birth of an order, the the dawn of a new age, you are witnessing the first day of the future."

Another jump forward. This time, the camera is close on young Dante's face.

Dante (on monitor): "The future -- you're either part of it, or a victim of it."

The footage freezes. Blood red text appears over the image of young Dante's face: "SOON YOU WILL KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO BE A VICTIM." Sweeney grabs a remote control and stops the tape. His face is red, and he stutters over his words.

Sweeney: "Jason ... I mean ... Mr. Dante, I don't ... I have no idea who did that. That isn't footage from your DVD ..."

Dante stands, glaring at Sweeney and the other horrified TCW employees.

Dante: "Then what the hell is it!?"

No one has an answer.

Dante: "I want an explanation!"

Sweeney: "I don't know ..."

Dante grabs Sweeney's shirt collar and pulls him close.

Dante: "Then find out!"

He pushes Sweeney away, practically knocking the TCW director to the floor, and storms out of the room.

"So I understand your little friend didn't get the message I wanted you to pass along."

Pryce glares uneasily at his smirking silver-faced tormentor. This time they are far from a bathroom stall...Pryce has just stepped out of his hotel and the words run up his spine like a power saw. This was not a meeting he'd anticipated or hoped for this evening. He'd turned to find the familiar painted countenance, this time with more space in between.

Pryce straightens his jacket. "I saw fit to keep our...exchange...between the two of us for the time being. Drakus' primary concern, as I believe you understand, is not you this time around."

"That's what I'm getting, yes."

The Insomniac steps forward, stopping momentarily to ignite a fresh cigarette before dropping the Zippo back in his trenchcoat pocket. The air between the two is icy, TI wishing for the appropriate tools to chisel it away...and if he happens to catch this smarmy little rodent's throat in the process...all the better.

Now isn't the time for chisels. Now is the time for talking. And The Sleepless One does that well.

"Let me ask you something, Mr. Pryce..."

"MR. Pryce? I'm flattered that you'd—"

"Don't be. I'm not."

TI is but a foot away at this point. Both men are content to let that be the final distance for the time being. TI allows a cloud of smoke to escape into the evening air and eyes his opponent's handler once more: for such a smaller man, he tries to maintain an air of dignity even in the face of potential danger. The Insomniac admires that...he'd still prefer the icepick/throat combination, but he admires that.

"Very recently, Mr. Pryce, I had an associate who appointed himself to a very similar role with me as you have with Drakus. He promised me success, status, and a certain amount of protection in those moments calling for more morally and legally dubious measures. Do you know where that man is now, Mr. Pryce?"

"We tracked him to the Los Angeles area, actually..."

"And if you know that, you know why. Correct?"

Pryce picks a piece of lint from his coat sleeve. "Yes."

"So...what have you done to assure Drakus—or at least deceive him well enough to believe—that you are only looking out for his best interests, that he isn't just your weapon to be pointed at anything that you don't like, that once his usefulness is up you won't dump him the way you're having him dump others?"

"We've had this conversation before, I believe."

"Yes, yes, we have. But it's not as if it suddenly became irrelevant. Bravo for having such a good handle on him. I know from experience that he's a tough one to keep under control."

"I am pleased to hear that from you."

The Insomniac rolls his eyes. Few people in this world can play his own evasive language games with the same irritating level of skill.

"Which brings me to my conclusion, Mr. Pryce. You said so yourself only a few minutes ago that I am not his primary concern this week...Dante is. That's fine. I have as much to take out on him as your employee."

"I doubt that."

"Don't. Now...had you shared the content and circumstances of our last little exchange with Drakus, his focus would currently be a little more divided, no? Threaten the man keeping his nose clean, and he himself might feel threatened. But instead, you withheld that information and now both of us have both a handy weapon and a target."

Pryce's mouth quivers at the larger man's accusation.

TI smirks. "Don't worry. With Dante out of the way, you both can make an honest attempt at taking me out. But not before. And after all...who would you put your money on: the one taking orders, or the one finally free from taking them?"

Pryce's eyes wander to the open door to his limo. TI notes this and gestures toward it, bowing slightly, never allowing the smirk to leave his face.

TI blocks the driver from shutting the door and leans in to face Pryce one final time.

"Man can will nothing unless he has first understood that he must count on no one but himself; that he is alone, abandoned on earth in the midst of his infinite responsibilities, without help, with no other aim than the one he sets himself, with no other destiny than the one he forges for himself on this earth."

"You have a pleasant evening. And sleep tight. Lord knows I won't. Right?"

The limo pulls away from the curb a moment later, leaving The Insomniac to his own musings. Time for Phase Two.
_____________________________

It just doesn't end.

Jason Dante now dons a tuxedo and his best smile for the sea of elegance around him. Normally, this would be a welcome change of pace from his earlier round of appearances: a mid-morning radio interview, a luncheon with the board that featured—in his own opinion—excessive murmuring about "strange German food," a promo to be aired during their weekend recap show, and now this evening gala...half-fundraiser, half-political flesh-pressing with present and potential German partners.

He'd had more than his fair share of these through DanteCorp. He knew the routine: the proper voice tone and pitch, how to maintain a welcoming aura without seeming too desperate or imposing, which hors d'ouvres to stay away from...but he'd been preoccupied since the early morning.

"SOON YOU WILL KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO BE A VICTIM."

Those words, dripping and hideous, had haunted him all day. They made the smiling and the handshakes more unbearable, made him more impatient. Here he was hobnobbing for TCW's best interests while being forced to neglect what he was truly concerned about. He ached for a culprit and for a confrontation, and this evening's fakery made him ache even more.

Out of the sea of black ties and sequined dresses emerges a familiar face wearing one such dress. Valerie Stern ascends the stairs to a modest platform and steps up to a podium adorned with the TCW symbol. A man in a tuxedo follows and stands alongside her. It takes Dante a minute to notice the small headset microphone that he sports.

Valerie flashes a charming white smile...a far cry from what Dante knows of her.

"Good evening. We at Twisted Championship Wrestling welcome all current and potential partners in Germany to this special evening!"

The man beside her looks out over the audience.

"Guten Abend. Wir an verdrehter Meisterschaft Willkommen alle gegenwärtigen und möglichen Partner in Deutschland zu diesem speziellen Abend wringend."

"Tonight we come together during TCW's tour of Europe and beyond..."

The sales pitch continues. Dante steps toward the bar and orders another martini. His thoughts drift back toward the doctored video. He had a short list of perpetrators, and he imagines that his two best bets have their eyes on this event. The resources that their affiliations possess rival his own, and neither of them are very forgiving to boot. Maybe there will be a good opportunity to excuse himself in order to—

"...and now it is my pleasure to introduce to you our reigning TCW United World Heavyweight Champion, Jason Dante!"

"und jetzt ist es mein Vergnügen, zu dir unseren regierenden TCW vereinigten WeltHeavyweight Meister, Jason Dante vorzustellen!"

Dante glares at Stern incredulously as the applause swells around him. He is careful not to break the glass as he sets it on the bar and musters a faint smile, making his way to the podium. Ascending the stairs, he makes sure that Stern doesn't miss his disapproval of this unexpected call to address their clientele.

Stern doesn't miss it. As she steps away to give him room, she mutters, "Don't embarrass me."

Dante clenches his teeth as he tries to maintain some semblance of an attractive exterior. He takes a moment to compose himself as the ovation dies down, allowing him to channel his political side.

"Thank you, Ms. Stern. As the TCW Champion, I am called to be this federation's representative in a multitude of contexts, the least of which is not showing the world that we are a company that values respect, honor, and the drive to succeed. Each and every week, I face new challenges for my championship, and each and every week the world watches as I try my hardest to defend them. One would imagine that there is a lot of pressure on me to perform well, and there certainly is..."

Dante can't help but glance back at Stern when he says this. Stern's eyes narrow, urging him to focus on the investors.

"...but I face it head on. Because if I didn't—"

Dante spots him along the back wall: a taunting face painted silver, his arms crossed, his cane still stained with blood. He puckers his lips as if to blow the champ a kiss.

"...um...if I didn't..."

Stern clears her throat. Dante looks back to find her glaring.

Dante exhales.

"If I didn't...then I certainly wouldn't be worthy of being champion to begin with. And I wouldn't be worthy of being your steadfast, proud ambassador to the whole world. So thank you for supporting Twisted Championship Wrestling, and for believing in what I and the entire federation do."

The applause rings out once again as Dante looks back toward The Insomniac, who feigns clapping. Stern retakes control of the podium, almost shoving Dante aside. Dante is more than happy to leave the platform as he makes a beeline for the back of the room.

"Thank you, Jason. Now, without all of your support..."

Dante comes almost nose to nose with his antagonist. He makes his best effort to keep his words at a whisper.

"Was it you? Were you the one who doctored that fucking videotape this morning?"

The Insomniac raises an eyebrow. "I believe you have me confused with someone else, Jason. But you've certainly piqued my curiosity. Sounds like someone got under your skin. But you did a marvelous job of hiding it while spewing your bullshit up there just now. I'm disappointed you didn't tell me to eat my vegetables..."

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you, of course. Word has it someone isn't happy with you, and really hasn't been for quite a while now."

"Yeah, well, what the fuck do you know about that?"

This last statement was a little above a whisper and a few patrons glance over to see what's going on.

TI smirks. "You best keep your voice down. You're TCW's proud representative, remember? You wouldn't want anyone to know what you're really like, would you?"

"I promise you that as soon as this is over, I'm coming for you AND Drakus. How quickly you forget what I'm capable of..."

"Please. Do you think I'm here just to hassle you?"

A silence passes between them for a moment.

"Okay, so I'm here just to hassle you. But besides that, I've got a bone to pick with Drakus myself. He embarrassed me the other month and helped stop my big return dead in its tracks. This place is getting a little overcrowded with people devoid of respect for who I am, and he was the first to line up and say so once upon a time. That, and I'm willing to bet that whatever crawled up your ass this morning was his doing. Well, what if I told you I know exactly where he is right now, and you can ask him your own damn self?"

"Fine. Tell me."

The Insomniac glances over at a few well-dressed patrons, still craning their necks to see what is developing between the two combatants.

"Not here. Too many noses trying to sniff. Follow me."

Hesitant at first, Dante follows The Insomniac through one of the back double doors to the alley. He stops amid trashcans and cardboard boxes.

"Okay, this is far enough. Tell me where he is."

"Not far at all."

Dante had half-expected the third voice to chime in as a large gruff man steps from the shadows. Smiling, TI steps toward where Drakus stands and leans against the wall. Dante glares at his deceiver, who merely shrugs.

"What can I say, Jason? I'm a sucker for the classics."

"I deserve this"

That is my first though as Drakus fist hits my face and lifts me off my feet again, as the pain of the punch fills my entire being and the shame of what I have done to someone I see as a friend and an ally makes me feel like dying I get up from the ground, grime and water has ruined my suit and i get up to face a stiff kick to the chest, I hear the laughs from Drakus and try to be at peace with being beaten to a pulp.

*****

The Insomniac is watching with repressed glee as Dante is getting beaten by the monster known as Drakus, like the scum he thought the man who held the title he had once held and knew he deserved again.

Dante crawled towards the Insomniac and saw the man's painted face alight it with glee as ugly bruises "decorated" Dante's face and a stream of blood poured from his head, as he looked up at the Sleepless one's face he thought he saw the killer's intent in the eyes. Dante reaches out and grabs the Insomniacs trousers but before he can pull, a powerful pain shoots through his head as Drakus has reached him and is pulling Dante across the dirty lot by his hair. As he had pulled the albino far enough from the Insomniac he pulled the man who has ruined his career all those years agot to his feet and locked his head into a neck vice too strong for even Dante to escape from in his weakened state.

*****

With that damned cane tapping as he walked up to me, the Insomniac made his way across the yard, the painted face was covered with a sickening smirk of pleasure and satisfaction as he put his face inches from mine.

"As you can see Dante, cooperation is something you and your compatriots are far from the only ones to do. I have to tell you that I am surprised that you fell for this as I admit it was decided on with a fast discussion between my esteemed opponent and I. You see we have this planned out perfectly, don't we Drakus?"

I couldn't see the monster's face as he had locked my neck, but the voice that replied to TI was sickeningly full of built up blood lust and desire to maim.

"Yeah." He started and was "interrupted" by a sickening laugh "We didn't give it much of a shot but we seem to have overestimated you, haven't we "old buddy"?"

Drakus almost disgusting drooling at the barely suppressed thought of at least wrecking me and at worst probably killing me made me sick to my stomach for a reason my then fevered mind couldn't understand. Drakus was insane, a true psychopath...it would take me a long time to understand that, and when I did I had help. Through lips under pressure from Drakus neck vice I spat forth

"Then kill me if it means so much to you!"

Of course seeing that Drakus wish to hurt or kill me had never been spoken directly, I had gleaned it from his chaotic mind in a way I'm still not a master of. I felt how Drakus arms gave way a bit as he was clearly puzzled by me just spitting out his innermost desire. Sadly, the Insomniac took over the talk and Drakus arms squeezed harder again.

"You seem intent on dying Dante, you have any idea how inconvenient that would be for us?"

I laughed as well as I could.

"Yeah killing one of the founders of the group that has beaten you into pulp lately would be bad now wouldn't it."

The Insomniac's smile was disgusting.

"Not really, our little plan would be as satisfied by that as with what we have in mind, but then the dead body of a world famous wrestler turning up in an alley in Cologne would be a bit too suspicious, now wouldn't it Dante?"

I couldn't argue with that. Part of me mourned that I wouldn't be removed from this world, the last few days hadn't been filled with wine and roses to be frank, they had been awful.

"I was in favour of me just choking you or something like that. But TI stopped me, his plan is much more "fun"."

For reasons obvious to anyone who knew anything about Drakus, the idea of what he found fun was horrid to me. The Insomniac continued his "compatriot's" rant and while still wearing that sickening smile.

"So we thought incapacitating you would be more...appropriate and subtle in it's directness."

"And fun." Drakus added with a grin in his voice that made me want to punch him.

"The plan is so simple and so, elegant. With you in hospital..." The Insomniac began.

"..a vegetated wreck..." Drakus added.

"...there is no champion. And this paves the way for a wonderful payback for Drakus and for me, Stern will have no choice but to listen to the voice of reason and at the very least set up a title shot for me or Drakus...hopefully she will see enough sense to make the match without you in it a match for a title and crown a new champion."

I paused, and thought it over, put on my best and most toxic voice.

"You guys have this plan figured out...what i don't get I why the hell you two love-birds even tolerate each other."

I saw the smile drain away from TI's face as he replied.

"I assume that you are bright enough to know why Drakus is apart of this, let's leave past crimes in the past and just say that adding world title status to the grudge made it that much hotter and made joining forces with me something he actually wanted to take part in."

"Lovely" I replied with far more confidence then I felt, and I felt that there was a very real risk that I would die...again.

"Now there is one more half of this temporary team, one side that I will love to tell you about. For weeks now you and your partner Darkness has made my life more miserable then before and you stole the rightful limelight I deserve."

"Deserved" I said without actually thinking "You belong to the past Insomniac."

The smile grew back on his face.

"Oh really? Do I?"

The pain that shot through my head was the last thing I felt as I went numb and dropped unconscious to the cold, wet ground.

*****

As Dante's body hit the floor, TI and Drakus only spent a few seconds to admire their handy work and then both men nodded and left each in their own direction.

If their alliance had a future, failure of this plan was needed and they both doubted it very much.

*****

The racket in the emergency room was deafening, nurses and doctors ran and walked around heading towards patients with no logic behind their movement to the eye of the untrained. An ambulance arrived with what the doctors deemed was another robbery victim, the man was severely beaten and unconscious. Bruises and splatters of blood stained the man's alabaster skin. The paramedics placed the stretcher in a vacated room and left after having given the nurse in charge of the albino the low down on his condition. Broken ribs, possibly a collapsed lung, several wounds to the face that they had managed to close en route to the hospital. The man had a broken nose, teeth that were all but knocked out of his mouth, he also seemed to have a skull fracture which as far as the nurse could tell was the reason he was unconscious at this point.

She took a deep breath as this was going to be a long one, his injuries weren't life threatening but the cranial fracture could result in lasting injuries that would be tough to live with, she had seen robbery victims leave with personalities that they had never had before the robbery or left in wheelchairs...or she reminded herself, left in caskets. She pushed those thoughts away and began to prep the victim for the doctor and the surgery that no doubt would take most of the night.

As she began to cut the blood stained shirt open, and wash his chest, Dante sighed as he saw the chaos he was with out meaning to causing, it had been a chock to see himself laying in the ER with no way to tell the poor overworked nurse that she was wasting her time...he was while not dead at this point only hours if not minutes away from expiring from the injuries.

He wondered why he wasn't already in hell like when he had been murdered by the Muslim terrorist wannabes. It took him a few minutes to realise that while he couldn't be seen by the nurses and doctors, something beside him could see him, and was looking at him. Dante returned the look and with a fear in his voice he hadn't had in ages he asked.

"Are you the grim reaper?"

The being's head shake made Dante's eyes grow wide.

*****

Drakus entered his hotel room with a grin on his lips, he had started the punishment of Dante today, for years his nights had been filled with at first nightmares and then dreams of payback, those long weeks in the hospital after the man he had once though of a trustworthy had stabbed him in the back had been a pain, but a pain that was nothing compared to the suffering he had to endure after the 411fed had terminated his contract via Fedex...It wasn't hard to insult Drakus but that had been too much.

Drakus pushed the negative thoughts away and replaced them with the images of a man with alabaster skin bleeding in an alley with he hoped his life escaping drop of blood by drop of blood.

The lights came one before Drakus was ready and revealed Pryce sitting in an armchair with a strange look on his face.

"I take it you took care of Dante?" Pryce said with no real pleasure or even satisfaction.

Drakus eyed him and tried to find a hidden sign of delight or even satisfaction in the man's face but found none.

"Yeah." Drakus chuckled "I splattered his head into a wall, I didn't know a little head could hold as much blood."

Pryce nodded and asked.

"And you are sure he is dead or at least incapacitated?"

Drakus cursed inwardly, of course he wasn't sure the pale faced asshole had still had a pulse as TI had checked that before they left but know for sure he didn't. He decided to toss caution to the wind and compensate not knowing with an assurance.

"Not sure, but his eyes were in the back of his head and the depression I made in his skull should have made him brain-dead by now." he said the last part with a barely repressed chuckle.

To Drakus surprise Pryce got up and actually got in his face.

"Then you still have no clue, do you?"

Drakus was taken aback by this.

"No, not as such...but the blood and the depression in his head." Drakus said as if he was talking to an idiot.

"Don't make the mistake to treat me like a fool Drakus...you should know better then to do that."

Drakus repressed a "humpf" as he was sure despite the lack of evidence.

"You are simply unable to understand what Dante is...what powers he has at call..."

"Look, I know about his wealth...I bet he'll either get a nice coffin for his money or a great wheelchair that can keep his drool from messing up his shirt." Drakus said with a laugh that was completely free of joy and full of malice.

"I'm not talking about his money Drakus...his money is of no importance...his assets that matter are far more dangerous, now if you wish...my employer wants proof of his demise or of him being incapacitated, I'd suggest you stop patting yourself on the back and go find just that." Pryce concluded with a snap in his voice that made Drakus feel offended in some deep basic way.

*****

"Ok, so you're not the grim reaper...what are you?"

The word guide drifted through Dante's mind. He looked at the being in black beside him and was amazed, the being had spoken directly into his mind.

"So what the hell are you then?" Dante said trying to sound confident. "I mean I know a bit about the after life stories but I don't think I've ever heard about a black clad big guy apart from the reaper."

The sentence "You are not dead Jason Christopher Dante, you are here to learn." drifted through Dante's mind.

"Learn? Learn what?"

The word "humility"appeared in Dante's mind.

As the word went away, the hospital ER faded away and was replaced with a street in Cologne, it was obviously earlier then it bad been when Dante had least seen the street as it was filled with people looking for the right Christmas presents, the thought of Scrooge and a Ghost of Christmas past passed through Dante's mind as he saw the people hurrying to get the presents.

As they did a scream of a strength that Dante thought was impossible erupted from the thin air and a creature that was horrible beyond words appeared in the street, frightened people were dashing for safety but legions of strange beings erupted from thin air and began a methodical and merciless slaughter of innocents. Dante stood helpless to prevent this and powerless to stop it.

"What...what is this?" he asked without wanting to know the answer he in his soul already knew.

The horrible words "A world with no Hellfire club, a world where you and Darkness remained enemies." was the reply. "And a world where you two took each other out, there was no hope and the enemy struck when the result would be the best or rather worst."

Dante swallowed hard as the horrible scene faded away.

To Dante's horror the next scene was even worse, he saw a woman obviously having sex with a man, the man was sleeping but had an expression of agony on his face as the woman bounced up and down on him with lust filled screams and a look of pure twisted wickedness on her face, Dante's heart almost stopped when he saw the woman's face.

"Selenia..." he said through lips almost refusing to move.

Before the being could "say" anything Dante said.

"I know...a world where she never met me, a world where I died fighting Darkness."

The being nodded and the scene faded.
The next scene was strange, it was a large room filled with crates, the warehouse Dante thought was silent. He walked through it with the strange being by his side and wound up in a scene that was utter chaos, he saw himself sit with dead eyes and stare into nothing with blood drying on his chest, then he saw the other man in the chaos, he saw the face and he felt the guilt well up in him, he saw the face and recoiled from it.

He saw Misfit on his back with a big nasty disfiguring wound right through his head, the worst part was that Dante knew that only one weapon could have caused that wound: Stormcaller.

The being looked at Dante who was looking horrified and was choking as he asked.

"This...this is my future?"

The being looked as a school teacher as he replied "Yes, follow your current path and it is."

Dante looked at the being and his face asked the question.

The being nodded to reply as the scene faded out and the strange being with it.

Seconds later Dante was on his back gasping for air as he returned to his body, he almost fell of the bed they had put him in as he woke up and gave a nurse at the bed side a scare she would never forget. To the nurses surprise the man who not even a minute before had seemed like he was in a coma got to his feet and walked over to a mirror.

Dante looked at his face and was surprised to see his face not having one single scratch on it, the bruise around his eye was gone, the busted eyebrows were healed and the depression in his skull Drakus knock-out smash had caused was not there anymore. He felt as if he had never been beaten, the demonic side in him had done it's work well.

He took a deep breath and turned around to try to calm the poor nurse down only to find that she wasn't alone, already there telling the nurse to calm down and take it easy was Selenia, she looked at Dante and smiled as she saw him up and in what appeared to be perfect health again, Dante looked at the frightened nurse and said.

"Sorry about the sudden wake up, I didn't exactly call all the shots on that."

The nurse just stared at him and said nothing. Selenia sighed and told her to go get a doctor in German. As the nurse with a thankful expression on her face dashed away to find a doctor, Selenia walked over to Dante and they shared a kiss.

"You scare the hell out of me sometimes, Jason."

Dante smiled.

"I know, I wasn't all that guilty this time though."

"I know, what do you think possessed the Insomniac and Drakus to join up...besides from you that is."

Dante sighed.

"I have no Idea" he said.
"But if they keep being bosom buddies we have a problem for sure."

"You mean the Pryce character Darkness talked about?"

"Yeah, I haven't met the guy but he seems to be in "the know" about stuff in a way I don't like at all."

Selenia nodded as the doctor entered and a lengthy and slightly strange attempt at getting Dante signed out of the hospital was started as Dante got dressed with the clothes Selenia had brought with her.

*****

The Insomniac was as they say satisfied, he had dealt with a problem that had been a thorn in his side for weeks and month, at one point he had destroyed Dante in their first match in the 411fed, he knew he was the better man, there was no other way to see this. He twirled his cane and felt as if a bit o celebration was due because of this, he was the Bleeder champion and no doubt he did value the bloodstained title a lot, after all he had nothing but respect for Bleeder and Bruce-666. He smiled, it felt good to have taken care of Dante, him and Darkness and their inferior version of Bleeder and Bruce's hellfire club was a joke that was about to be exposed as such very soon.

Soon TI would be back on top as the champion and Infinity would by that virtue be in the spot the now vegetable Dante put the NHFC in, all things would be back to normal soon...there was the issue of Drakus, but the Insomniac had broken through the fogs in the monster's mind now, he might even recruit him into Infinity and leave Pryce the law-abuser alone and broken without his personal weapon.

TI Smiled as he passed a small alley that he didn't even take notice of, suddenly someone grabbed him and pulled him into the alley. He was faced with two red eyes that seemed to glow in the dark night and a voice he knew well.

"I'm only going to ask you this once Jonathan, I'm looking for Drakus...for your sake I hope you know where he is...I wouldn't want to waste all this revenge on you alone."

TI stared at he perfectly wound and bruise free face in front of him.

The sight of a face so recently bloodied and bruised and now fully restored is unnerving to The Insomniac. He can't control the blink, his reflexive steps backwards, his gaping jaw. He has to grip his cane tighter so as not to drop it.

Dante's red eyes have not left his own, framed by pure white skin showing no remnant of the near-massacre TI had so recently witnessed. Drakus had unleashed years of pent-up malice and had done it with such amusement...the world champion had had no chance, not when being handled by such a vengeful sociopath...not when so solidly outnumbered and outmatched...

...but had he been truly outmatched? Dante's eyes take TI back to that hotel room in the not-so-distant past when his memories had flashed before his eyes, twisted by forces that he could only name as dark, even Satanic. That was not a word he'd normally use, not even a concept he'd been willing to consider...but recent confrontations had begun to alter his views of reality.

It is Dante's turn to smile as TI attempts to regain his composure.

"Surprised to see me, Insomniac?"

The albino's smugness makes it easier for TI to build up his wall once again.

"You're supposed to be on life support."

Dante snickers as he steps fully out of the shadows and runs his finger along the lid of a trashcan. He scowls at the filth of these back alleys...they are such a far cry from the more polished and crisp surroundings with which he is familiar. Still...he is not foreign to more putrid contexts. Past battles with Darkness and others were fought in much worse spaces. He could overlook the present situation's placement. His intentions toward The Insomniac and then toward Drakus made the grime even easier to bear; the dank smell easier on his nostrils.

"I am indeed, Insomniac. But, of course, how would it be that I am now standing before you, about to tip the scales back...measure for measure, yes? Somebody somewhere likes me, I suppose. And it's a good thing too, not for my sake but for the whole world's."

TI darkens.

"You and Darkness talk the same. Self-made saviors. All the rest of us are so lucky to have you around...as if your very presence assures the rest of us that we may live our lives without fear, without anguish. I'd believe that, except I've had a glimpse or two into Darkness' mind, and you intruded into mine once upon a time. There's only one conclusion I can come to as a result, Jason, and it surely isn't that you're a couple of heroes. And the fact that you still traipse around pretending that you are leads me to conclude that you're simply full of shit."

Dante can't hide his amusement.

"A man who willingly had a pawn tattooed on his arm is lecturing me on my place in the universe? Face it Jonathan, you aren't what people once thought you were. What is the Hellfire Club's record against you, past and present? Bleeder destroyed you, Bruce easily took your title, I and Darkness both proved how mortal you truly are...the way I see it, none of us need to concern ourselves with you any more."

The shock of seeing Dante's fully rejuvenated form has worn off for The Sleepless One as Dante speaks these words. His knuckles go white within his black gloves as he grips his cane tightly.

Dante notices, but doesn't care too much.

"What are you going to try, Jonathan? You're the one with something to prove, not me. As you can see, I survived your collective last attempt...in fact, you didn't leave a scratch on me. It's what usually happens with myself and my associates...we're simply the dominant stable amid those who DO truly need us to save them from themselves. That includes you...look, still trying to be someone you aren't. That tattoo was the first time in quite a while you've told the truth to yourself. Especially after Jeremiah stringing you along for so long..."

The Insomniac grinds his teeth. The pulsating in his temples betray this action as his lips curl into a spiteful sneer. The words claw at his mind like vultures picking over a rotting carcass. He senses that this is no mere condescension on Dante's part...it is an attempt at truth-telling.

"I don't believe in cannon fodder."

TI mulls over these words from Darkness yet again. Here stands his closest associate, his face unblemished, speaking of who is a pawn and who is not, who needs saved and who should be doing the saving. TI remembers The Bleeder's recent words, words about being caught up in the games of others and being rendered incapable of escaping, of rewriting the rules, of making the game his own.

"Now...are you going to tell me where Drakus is, or will I need to persuade you to tell me?"

That perfect little smirk on the albino's perfect little face is becoming insufferable. I came back from your brilliant plan. What else do you have for me? What else could you possibly do?

Nothing. You have nothing. You had nothing from the beginning because you simply don't have the same resources we do. Shadow's bank account has nothing on what we can do...I'll have the pleasure of beating you twice. That'll make three losses to us in a row. And what will that do to your spirit? How much more can it handle before collapsing under the pressure? Surely not too much more...

The Insomniac doesn't know whose voice provides such derision. It doesn't sound like any singular being with whom he's come in contact. It is more a chorus of joviality at his expense, and Dante's rising from near-death fully restored only adds salt to a wound being torn wider and wider.

Finally, TI's face darkens and he meets Dante's despicable red corneas.

"Persuade me."

Dante tilts his head curiously.

"What?"

"I said persuade me, motherfucker."

"You can't be that foolish."

A growl begins to emerge from someplace deep within TI's throat. That was condescension.

"I am foolish when I deny who I am. But I am also foolish when I believe what others say who I am. Foolishness belongs to those who live without discovery, without experiencing the revelation which only they themselves can conjure. It is not yours to give, it is mine. So whatever wicked puppeteer forced together my flesh and spirit and made me to endure this plane, I now accept. That is why I am Pawn. But that does not make you King."

Dante rubs his fully healed cheek.

"I beg to differ."

"Then bring your lily white ass over here and differ, you little bitch."

Dante sees the absolute resolve within the larger man's face. This is no mere challenge, no felt need to prove himself in a contest better reserved for impromptu arm wrestling matches and drinking games...TI's eyes are cold as stone.

"Yes, follow your current path and it is."

The words echo in Dante's head...where does The Insomniac fall on this path?

There is little time for him to wonder as the handle of a cane clips him upside his skull. Dante stumbles backwards as TI moves in. The Insomniac brings the cane up under Dante's chin and sends him reeling into the wall. TI stalks his prey, unwilling to give an inch in a race he is determined to take back...starter pistol, judges, finish line, even the stadium.

"You know, some will look at this and say, ‘Twice in one night?' And I'll get a chance to say, ‘But I didn't get any shots in the first time.'"

TI swings the cane in for another shot, and Dante catches it before it makes contact.

"And I'll get a chance to say, ‘This time they weren't so lucky.'"

Dante brings a kick to TI's midsection. A second gets him to release the cane. Dante looks down at his newly-wrested prize, still caked with dried blood from an earlier encounter. Sensing his adversary climbing back to his feet, Dante raises the weapon but is speared into a dumpster before he can use it, grunting upon impact. TI takes a few steps backward.

"So much talking...so much grandstanding...and so much metaphysical bullshit—"

TI brings a boot upside Dante's head. Dante catches the second at the ankle and lands a few stiff shots to his attacker's knee and stomach. TI wheezes as he stumbles backwards. Dante climbs to his feet.

"How do you think I'm able to stand before you now, Jonathan? It's not bullshit at all..."

TI steadies himself against the wall.

"When it's all you fucking talk about..."

The Insomniac charges once again. Dante sidesteps him and uses his momentum to send him into the dumpster. Dante quickly presses TI against the wall with a hand to the larger man's throat.

"I talk about it because it's who I am. You know...I showed it to you. And now you witness one who will require more than a physical altercation to be overtaken. You've discovered that already as well. Search for scars. Search for bruises. You'll find none. That is because of such so-called ‘metaphysical bullshit.' Now...are you going to tell me where Drakus is?"

The pain comes quickly, even too quick for Dante to prepare. He begins sliding to his knees, but TI thrusts his hands under the albino's arms to keep him upright as both the smaller man's hands instinctively cup his groin. TI shoves Dante up against the wall and leans in close.

"Like I said...I'm a sucker for the classics. And the way I've been treated over the past hour or so, you needed it. You may designate yourself whatever you like. You can be called a king if you want. But you're as vulnerable as anyone else, Jason. ‘Anyone, at any time.' Remember?"

TI helps Dante down to lean against the dumpster. Through his pain, Dante marvels at how gingerly this action comes. TI crouches down so he's eye level with his ailing foe.

"It's not pretty...but what you did to me the other week wasn't, either. All the power at your disposal and one swift kneelift later you can't feel your legs. You take a while to think about that. In the meantime, don't worry...I'm sure those can rejuvenate, too. But until they do, I hope that's really fucking painful."

TI stands back up.

"I made a promise to Drakus' little friend just before I saw you in the airport. Did I mention that? I promised him that this time around it would be different. This is no longer your game, and I no longer accept your terms."

The Insomniac brushes off his coat and straightens his collar.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I need to speak to our mutual acquaintance."
___________________________

Drakus sits at the foot of the hotel bed, his hands folded, his eyes having found some place on the blank TV screen on which to focus. The world he sees reflected back is cast in dark, dull grays and browns. It is also warped, with closer objects more skewed than those more far away. None of it is right. None of it is as it should be. In this screen is a dimmer, distorted world.

And actually, for him, it's a much better representation.

Pryce sits across from Drakus, his legs crossed elegantly. His elbows are rested on the chair arms, his fingers intertwined. He studies his protégé; wonders if they'll be able to bring what Drakus started to completion, or if they'd need to start from scratch. Jason Dante was not like the other men he'd had this monster put away...and even with the added element of betrayal, they'd needed to be more careful, more sure of their effectiveness.

Drakus finally pulls himself away from his dim reflected image and sees Pryce's gaze.

"Stop looking at me like that."

Pryce folds his hands in his lap and sits up slightly.

"Like what? Like someone disappointed? Like someone concerned that you didn't get the job done or do it properly to begin with?"

"What I did to Dante was proper. And I did get the job done. He's in Critical Care on a breathing tube, being fed creamed corn and applesauce. Now, if you want me to go there and pull the plug, just say the word—"

"I didn't realize how clueless you truly were."

Drakus stands, balling up his fists. Pryce quickly stands as well. The two stand eye to eye for a moment in silence, Drakus' nostrils flaring at the smaller man's needling lectures.

"I'm getting a little worn out by your tone. I saw Dante's pathetic limp form in a puddle of blood and karma. I felt his skin tear and bend under my hands. And now you're telling me that I didn't do enough? That I should have been sure that he was as unrecognizable and near death as he seemed?"

"The operable phrase is ‘near death,' Drakus. Truly you know something of Dante's ability aside from his wealth."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Pryce slams his fist on the TV, his eyes growing furiously wide.

"I'm fucking talking about how in the first place you had no fucking business being in that alley making deals with that painted freak, and then being so careless as to leave Dante with some semblance of hope. My employer has ways that are more subtle, more calculating, more thorough, and more discreet, and you jeopardized all of that when you decided to take the easy route because of your little personal grudge!"

"Clearly...you've never been abandoned and left for dead while your supposed partner is seduced by more promising ventures. ‘Little personal grudge'...what do you know about desperation and humiliation apart from ordering it on others while you drink your fruity little tea?"

Pryce is about to respond when the door is kicked open with a startling bang, the knob breaking through the plaster on the far wall. For a moment, both men are stunned as their neuroses catch up with their eyes. The Insomniac stands in the doorway brandishing his cane, the look on his face a cross between anger and pleasure.

"He knows more than you give him credit for...but it's true, he knows a pathetic amount about desperation and humiliation. It's also true that he likes his fruity little tea. Of course, you should have seen the way he was cowering in that bathroom stall..."

Pryce's eyes grow wide. Drakus steals a glance at his associate.

"What's he talking about?"

TI takes a few steps into the room and slams the door behind him to regain everyone's attention.

"He can share that little story later. First things first...I saw Dante tonight."

Drakus smirks. "And how did he look? Like a vegetable?"

"He looked like you never even laid a finger on him."

Pryce's lips tighten as Drakus refuses to look over at him. The rage is building within him, as is the disbelief.

"How is that possible?"

"You mean Pryce hasn't provided official-looking manila envelopes and charts and stealthily-taken black-and-white pictures and shit? You disappoint me. Both of you. But fuck all that. This isn't a regrouping meeting. If it was, I might have knocked. This isn't working out, and as much as I enjoyed having you do all my work for me much like how this little fruity tea-drinker does, the fact is I want Dante broken and you're becoming little more than a sideshow attraction."

Drakus steps toward TI. Pryce makes no effort to say otherwise. He wants to see this silver-faced chatterbox silenced as much as anyone.

"Careful with your words, Insomniac. I ain't no sideshow. And I can easily demonstrate that on you much like I did on Dante. In fact, I seem to remember demonstrating it on you once already. Maybe you've forgotten."

"And maybe you've forgotten what it truly felt like for Dante to cast you aside like a piece of garbage. After all, look at you making alliances with rich resourceful people after the first one left you high and dry. But they keep you out of jail, right? Fine...so long as they need you around. Dante's on the loose, not a scratch on him. That's on your head. You failed. You think they'll keep you around forever if you keep screwing up?"

Pryce sneers at the latest accusation.

"Stop talking about things of which you have no true knowledge."

TI smirks.

"True knowledge? You have book knowledge. Drakus here was just telling you about his true knowledge and you cast it aside in favor of your own ideas. That's too bad. If I were him, I might take exception to that."

Drakus looks over at Pryce, who shakes his head.

"You know that you have nothing to worry about from me. I freed you and I'm going to help you fix this mess, just like I have so many times before."

"He's done a bang-up job so far, hasn't he? Yelling at you with such authority...that'll make everything better, won't it?"

"He's playing with us like he always has. Shut him up so we can get back to what we do. Dante is our concern this week, not him."

"Oh, I should be your concern. After all, I'm the one telling you the truth."

"I am going to lead you back to Dante and we're going to neutralize him just as I said we would. This man only has words."

"How much longer are you going to—"

The Sleepless One can't finish his question as he finds himself pinned against a wall by the throat for the second time tonight. Pryce looks on approvingly and with some relief as Drakus bares his teeth, applying more pressure with his meaty fingers.

"Pryce is right, Insomniac...you only have words. I made that about you the first time I saw you. Talk, talk, talk...but coming up short so often lately. Obviously you're the sideshow attraction, not me."

TI struggles to answer, but can only make strained noises thanks to Drakus' assault. Snickering, Drakus loosens his grip so that TI can speak more clearly.

"Obviously...Pryce never did tell you about our first conversation...when I told him to tell you that this time around would be different."

Drakus smirks, back to his more familiar calm and confident exterior.

"That has yet to be seen though, doesn't it?"

"It does...if you ignore everything that I just said."

For the second time in a half hour, the door bangs against the wall causing more plaster to crumble to the floor. Jason Dante steps into the room, causing Drakus to break his hold on TI and turn his attention to the intruder.

The Insomniac slinks to his knees, rubbing his throat.

"Thank goodness...it's Captain anti-Messiah Complex..."

Drakus' eyes grow wide at the sight of Dante's flawless features.

"This isn't fucking possible..."

Dante smiles. "I assure you that it is."

Pryce shakes his head. "I told you."

Dante moves into the room.

"Whatever he said, you should've listened. Now, vengeance is mine."

TI struggles to his feet, still rubbing his throat. Dante glances over at the ailing Infinity member.

"Thanks for leading me here."

TI's lips curl. "I figured you'd follow. You're more of a pawn than I thought."

Dante's smile drops.

"I'll get to you in a minute."

"Take your time."

Dante turns his attention back to Drakus.

"First, I believe the two of us have some unresolved issues..."

TI leans his head against the wall.

I hope the two of you fucking kill each other.

Judging by the looks in both men's eyes, The Insomniac just might get his wish.