Down A New Path. Part 3

[Byron Hicks]

After arriving in Florida, I was still in awe of the fact that, I was able to pass through the performance center without much of a problem. I mean; I am kind of like at the top of the food chain... A higher being that is better in each and every way compared to humans...And at its very core wrestling has been and forever will be survival of the fittest; a battle of both strength and wit. Yet, that wasn’t what had me so stunned… No, it was the fact that the Vervain had worked.. I had thought that it would. But, I wasn’t to sure that it would be enough. Though I was very glad it was so, I decided to just drop it and move on. It had kept my power from being at full strength and the horrible burning in the pit of my gut; from regularly ingesting it in small doses. It had kept back the insatiable hunger during the many enduring training sessions. And trust me when I tell you that the mere sound of their pounding heartbeats was, maddening, As they exhausted themselves trying to prove their worth for the reward of a match. One that was to be awarded here in, Tampa. Usually, the sound of human hearts pumping blood would have sounded pleasant to me. Like a fine piece of classical musical. Warming my cold dead body throughout; instead it sounded like, jackhammers. On a early morning. when all you wanted to do was sleep in..

Anyways, the whole ordeal of proving my skills was over and I had became a signed wrestler on the WWS roster. And now here I was yet, I still didn't really have clue why? I had checked into a hotel on the Gulf coast of Florida, where I had room service; bring me up a bottle of Irish Whiskey. It was a little bit of a celebratory drink; if you will. In the name of victory for having apparently sparked quite a nerve; with my mere presence. I had rising the wrath of some old washed up meat bag. Before my name had even dried on the dotted line of my contract. North, was someone who apparently knew somebody, that like, I guess... Knew somebody else or had known of someone else in the past... I didn’t know. And frankly, I really didn't even care.. I rarely ever indulged in the mundane lives of humans, other than for food and sometimes a little entertainment. As I would compelled them to be my little playthings. My meat bags on strings and I would be the master puppeteer. Controlling their minds to bring me enjoyment.

The room was quite acceptable and the view of the ocean was something even an immortal could still fully, enjoy. And that’s when it hit me... What the old meat bag had been running off at the mouth about earlier... When he was just rambling on just like senile old people do. Yet, for some reason he seemed to have a problem with me. And now I think I knew exactly why...

After removing a few blood bags from my things. I proceeded to make myself a few glasses. Feeding my hunger with blood; as I still in my mind chewed over this tasty, new revelation, I have just had. The guy North, was nothing more than just some bitter, old, has been. Quite a common dilemma in world of humans. Clearly, he was showing all the tell signs of a classic case of Severe Butt Hurt. Looking over old photographs, check. Contemplating where it might all had went wrong, check. Replying old mistakes over and over in his head. Check! Jealous, over someone named, Cyrus Riddle... I guessing apparently he must of went on to do great things. Check! All the long while, “Old Man North”, was left all alone to withering away; as nothing more than an afterthought of his own, glory days. Never really quite amounting to anything of true worth, in the grand scheme of things. And if that wasn't sad enough he also seemingly was be obsessed with Vampires. Totally off base with his false misconceptions of what I am and what I’m doing here. Projecting on to me his anger over having “lost a step” somewhere back in the olden days.. Then BANG! Enter me and my handsome good looks, not mention my immortality. Seeing someone who he wished he could even begin to compare himself, too. Flawless skin, young, talented and going places he couldn’t possibly dream of. The even remote possibility that I could exactly be what I claim to be makes him sick. It would fracture his sad, sorry, little existence he had left. North, couldn't even begin to come terms with the fact that I have the advantage of time on my side. And all he had was a dusty old house and box of photographs. But, this couldn’t possibly be truth, huh? Right? Mr. North...


Chuckling to myself finding enjoyment of dissecting the psyche of the man known as “Trauma.” The only thing Traumatic about this guy was his fucking face.. .Ewe ..I’m so fucking glad to be damned, if that’s what cocaine and hookers does to a normal man's face. Oh, well looks like he is going to be the first pawn placed in my path. Placed before me only to taken off the board before the game even starts. I'm not here for fame or titles, I am here for answers and he doesn't have anything to offer me. Then he has no use to me. So, it really didn't matter if I leave him breathing or choking on his own blood. But, I damn it..! I still had to play things cool.. I still had to search on for the next clue...I had to find the answers I seek or this will all be for nothing. So, in other words... The show must go on.