Inside Dark Horse laboratories, atop a brushed steel table are three glass aquariums. Inside one is a large, black King cobra, the other… a single rat, and in the third… a family of five rats. Senester walks around the table looking intently at each and stops at the single rat.
(Senester): It was Ring Master, June 2007 when I took a sabbatical from HWA. One needn’t be visible or present to maintain control of his assets. I had no immediate intentions on returning, turning my focus to the many other arenas under the Dark Horse umbrella. Then…in the spring of 2008, on the cool March night setting of the Road to Ruin I sensed it. The sensation generated an aura around me, and virtual energy field. I felt the very pulse of the heart, the synaptic response of neurons charging the brain, the blood rushing through the veins like a raging river. The sensation was pure elation. I turned to the television and there he was. Leading the charge of the RWF invasion. His eyes full of vigor and purpose, the proportions of his body undeniably well crafted, the contours of his face like marble only Michelangelo could sculpt…and I knew that his destiny was to be mine. He called to me, but I could not go so quickly. I had to watch him. I had to study him. I had to test him. I waited one year….and two years to the day of my departure at Ring Master 2009……I returned, and I returned to claim what was destined to be mine…… “The Reflection of My Perfection” Talon Wilkinson. It was then that laid the groundwork for Project LS2-TW1. You may recall this name. You may recall the experiments undertaken over the past two years here in this very laboratory. Project LS2-TW1 or shall I now avail you with its full name. Project Liberate Seraphim – Talon Wilkinson.
Senester grins as he walks around the table looking at the cobra and rat.
(Senester): The first order of business was to discover the next layer of his potential, but in order to do that I needed some help, and his brother sacrificed himself for the greater good. He is a martyr, and was a dutiful servant of God. I opened Talon’s soul, his own Pandora’s Box so that the common place accomplishments of scorecards and gold were vastly superseded by the absolute clarity of pain. The more he resisted me, the more I wanted him, but I have eternity dancing on my fingertips……there was little need to rush. That which is written in the annals of destiny presents itself at the appropriate time. I could continue with a step by step history lesson of how this all came to be but I’ve been planning this very moment in front of your very eyes, unabridged for years now. Nothing has been hidden, my intent has been made perfectly clear. Yet still your mouths gaped open like drooling inmates at Blood, Sweat and Tears when what was destined to be, what was said would be, when my will was ultimately executed. Look back. Look back through the last few years and you will find nothing but your ignorance in my actions having been laid out in plain sight. The experiments in Project LS2-TW1, to the death of Michael Dredge, to the alignment with Butch Parker who was most useful in helping acquire certain artifacts I needed, all the way down to the brief period over the last year when Talon was “off” my radar. Everything laid out before, but like all mortal men, your own intricacies of life prevail over reality to your own detriment. I told you all. Abandon your human frailties, they are the cause of your pain, but you would not listen. I am God, and it is I who was forsaken.
Eddie Phoenix, I warned you. I told the world who Talon Wilkinson was. I provided you with proof and still you ignored me. I was giving you a way out, a way to save yourself the misery that you now cannot escape, and must endure. You were the frog in the pot of water slowly brought to a boil. You set yourself before a camera and called yourself a revolutionary. You thought yourself the first to open your world to the fans, but what good is a fantasy to the feebleminded. What good where you parties, your New York adventures, your flashy entrances, you corner bar gatherings, your so-called “real world” episodes and “day in the life of”…when none of it meant anything? You had set your own self-destruct and couldn’t even hear the countdown to zero. You used Talon, Mr. Phoenix. The enemy you kept at your side with your foot over his head so he did not rise above you. Even when you called yourself angry with him over Ms. Divines justified “transgression” as you may call it…you couldn’t hold him at bay for long. You switched gears and were right back at his side because you knew that had you gone for him, truly gone for him, you would be exposed for the subservient friend and competitor you are. You primary goal in life is to play make believe and save face in the light of truth. Any excuse you possibly create is nothing more than candy kids, a sophisticated palate like mine, and like Talon’s do not stomach such things. Now you sit in silence, apparently talking to yourself again, yet another excuse for some unorthodox behavior you intend to display….yet another cover up to the truth. It makes no difference to me, nor Talon. We see you for who you are Mr. Phoenix and it’s eating you alive that your own two feet that you must now stand on are too frail. Limbs go numb when you don’t use them, this is what you get from riding Talon’s coattails all these years.
Inside the glass containing the group of rats, Senester tosses in some food. He watches them ravage at it like the scavengers they are.
(Senester): Ronnie McNeil, the HWA Champion. I must thank you Mr. McNeil for your participation in Project LS2-TW1. I knew you would be instrumental in providing me the extra bits of data I wanted, but not necessarily needed. I believe you have a false impression of my perceptions of you Mr. McNeil for in fact I admire your dedication, your unwavering commitment. Others may think it for the sport, the industry…but I know it is only for yourself. Why else would one betray his friends in front of their face. You stole a sun-stone from me, and rather than destroying it to spite me you gave it back. Oh yes….that’s right. You did it for your niece….little Chrissy. That must have been it. Then when you failed to win the Championship from Hans you knew you were out of the picture so you knock at the devils door and I offer you an exchange. Information for a show booked entirely by your NWO, knowing precisely what match you yourself would book. I can’t say Talon was surprised. He knew your egotism first hand by spending time with you. You were so full of yourself he could hardly stand it. You walk out on your friends when it suits you. You have no use for them when you have what you need. Once you stood with me, and could have found the true glory you seek but the fact is there is a limit to how far you will go, and your human frailties only allow so much direction before you think yourself superior in knowledge, much to a fault.
What will you do now Mr. McNeil? Will you hide your family away like Talon once did his? You know it is a futile effort so you may very well elect not to. Do you think Lyntoria, James, Christina and Carmen are safe? Or do you think we only mention their names to push your panic button? Are you certain either way? Being that you’ve once again adopted the “enigma” moniker I think it appropriate that we assist you live up to it. So many questions, and so little answers. Some of the questions don’t even have an answer Mr. McNeil, but were going to make you try and find it anyway. I want to see how much you love yourself. I want to see how much bend you can take before you break. I honestly want to see you rise to the top, and be recognized as the man you wish to be, but I don’t think you’ll ever get there. The road before you is so treacherous you’ll have veered off to the nearest exit, or turned back long before you reach the end. Talon is going to delight in challenging you. I don’t mean just for the title, this is a real challenge. This is not the challenge of working your way up the ladder, nor the challenger of crowd and peer recognition. This is not the challenge of overcoming the adversity of name-calling. This is the challenge for your soul. Talon is going to break you down, and every time you open your eyes or lift your head back up he will be there, and I will be there watching. I want to see how many times you get up Mr. McNeil. I want to see how many times you get up before you lay down, once and for all.
Mr. Neilson, I like you. One of the most refreshing men to enter my company is a very, very long time. You have an ability that most others lack, and although you don’t always use it, it is there nonetheless. You saw straight through Butch Parker, and never liked him yet learned to live with him. You see the great mentor that Herr Hans can be, and the potential in Herr Heinrich. When you look into the mirror you see your own potential, yet you deny it, clinging to that disease called humanity. I saw the look on your face when the doctor told you that child was lost. It wasn’t shock or dismay. It was relief. You’re screamed “Is it Over?” Talon and I toasted your success, and we do hope that you use this freedom he has given you wisely.
This brings me to you Herr Hans. I hardly know where to begin. Every time I visit my museum, and I look into the case containing your infamous bat, that still holds dried bits of Butch Parker’s blood and flesh on it I shake my head in disappointment. You have always been good, but beside me you could have been great. It was my benevolence that has held out this long, perhaps even hope that you might come around. I have resigned myself to the fact that you have chosen normalcy, you have chosen a mortals existence over that of a living deity. Before the cock crowed three times, Peter denied Jesus, Herr Hans. Like Peter, there is only so far you are willing to go, even when the truth is known to you. Such foolish restraint. These years I have abided your declines, but that time is over. Time is up, and I said said…none shall be spared. Where you not listening? It was only Talon who answered the riddles. Only he who sought the knowledge of that which was to come. You all saw him. Why did you think he did it? Why did you think he would seek refuge with the one he was supposedly set to destroy? The thought never occurred to most of you.
We have a long history Herr Hans. Once I called you My Baron, you were welcomed and loved within Dark Horse. Now you’ve lowered yourself to the baseline of humanity. You have become the German, with an American dream. Your New York penthouse doesn’t exactly have the white picket fence, but it is a home, the ring on Ms. Lang’s finger a symbol of your pathetic love for her, and her enchantment with you. You have everything “a man” could want in life Herr Hans, it is unfortunate that so little brings you so much content. It is also unfortunate that your American dream is to be turned into a nightmare. Open your mouth so I can breathe new life into your body. These are new days for us. There is no Butch Parker between us now Herr Hans. There is only you, and me. There are no more restraints, no more pardons. Now you must take your career, and your very life out of its cruise control and manually manage all of the things that are to come.
Senester reaches into the glass and pulls out the single rat and put him in with the cobra. The rat’s nose sniffs around and begins to go about his business when he set up. A single strike in record time cripples him and into the demons mouth he begins to go.
(Senester): You cannot change destiny. Even when you have assumed comfort for so long. Assumed safety. Even when you have grown accustomed to staring at the beast itself fortune takes over. You cannot fight it, you can only wait. You can only read the signs and resign yourself to its absolution for when it comes.
Senester leaves the room as the scene fades to black.
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