Rocco was startled out of his slumber around 4:30 on Saturday morning. Tommy was angrily shoving the Christmas tree that Randi had put up in the living room back into its box. For the first time that he could remember, he was actually looking forward to the holidays, but the nightmares and Keres’ looming presence in the apartment had ruined all of that. He had allowed himself to get excited about the idea of waking up on Christmas morning and watching Randi and Walker open gifts. He didn’t even care that Walker was too young to fully understand what was going on. He finally had the family he had never had before, but Keres had ruined it all.
It had been more than a week since Tommy had seen Randi and Walker. The minutes felt like hours, the hours like days, and the days like weeks. The man who had once enjoyed life as a bachelor suddenly missed the family that he had started. Of course, he wasn’t truly alone. Rocco had set up homestead in Tommy’s apartment the morning that Randi took Walker and fled to her aunt’s home in Tulsa.
The morning after Tommy’s most recent nightmare which culminated in the discovery of a wicked-looking doll bearing a purple feather was the last straw. Things had been tense around the apartment since Tommy’s first interaction with Keres following a tag team match. When “The Daughter of Demise” lightly scratched an X into Tommy’s chest after the match, it was as if some sort of portal to hell had been opened. Sleep became elusive and Tommy was perpetually on edge. Randi struggled to strike the balance between being a supportive fiance and a protective mother and eventually agreed to take Walker and get out of town until after Winter Wasteland.
Secretly, Tommy wondered if that would be long enough. Who was to say that Keres’ evil mind games would stop after the X Title match? She was unpredictable, to say the least. He hoped that the X Title match would be their last interaction, but ultimately, there was no way to know. If Tommy successfully defended his title, would Keres move on to torturing someone else? After all, Eternal, her evil tandem, was also dealing with Gabrielle, who seemed to want to set Elizabeth Rose free from their clutches. The uncertainty of what would happen after his match with Keres tormented him almost as much as Randi and Walker’s absences.
“Little early to be decorating isn’t it, kid?” Rocco rubbed his eyes as he stumbled down the hallway toward the living room.
“Un-decorating, Rocco. Not like there’s any fucking reason to have this shit up.” Ornaments hit the floor and shattered as Tommy angrily shoved the tree into its box. Tommy looked toward Rocco, and Bedlam’s most trusted confidant quickly saw just how rough his client looked. The bags under his bloodshot eyes seemed to be getting bigger every day. He had slept for all of an hour before he mercifully woke up.
“Another nightmare?”
“Of course. Fourth one this week.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Yea. You know how much I love talking about what’s going on inside. Go back to bed, Rocco.”
“Seriously, Tommy. Tell me about this one. You’ve been holding all this shit inside for weeks now, and it’s not working for you. You don’t wanna tell Randi because you need to look strong for her. Crowe is getting ready for his title match. I’m what you’ve got right now. Let me hear it.”
Tommy rubbed his eyes, looked around at the shattered remains of what should’ve been the best Christmas of his life, and realized that he had nothing to lose. He plopped down on the couch as Rocco stepped from the kitchen and handed him a glass of scotch. Unbeknownst to Tommy, he had dropped a very mild sleep aid into Tommy’s glass.
“You’re giving me scotch at 4:30 in the morning?”
“Eh, we can’t drink all day if we don’t start early, right?”
Rocco had watered his scotch down significantly, but he and Tommy clinked their glasses together as Tommy took a sip and started telling Rocco about the most recent nightmare.
Tommy began to detail the nightmare that found Tommy on an ancient clipper ship with the people who mattered the most to him. He was at the wheel, steering the odd-looking boat across the high seas. It had large purple sails, and atop the flag pole, inexplicably, there was a massive sunflower. Tommy’s focus on the sea ahead of him was disrupted by a knock on the door. It was Rocco.
“Ahoy, Captain Tommy! The sea, she be calm! The crew waits for you at the bow!”
In the nightmare, Tommy stepped away from the wheel of the ship and snapped his fingers. Two ravens quickly flew from somewhere in the bowels of the boat, one landing on each of Tommy’s shoulders. He glanced at each of the ravens and addressed them as he climbed the steps to the bow of the ship.
“Good morning Somber, Solace. I hope that you’re ready for what the day will bring.”
Tommy explained to Rocco how everything looked beautiful from the bow of the boat. In addition to Rocco, Tommy saw Randi, a young man who he somehow knew was a teenage Walker, Rocco, and Chris Crowe. Suddenly, the skies turned an eerie shade of yellow as Somber and Solace flew away from the meeting of the crew and into the horizon.
Retelling the story to Rocco forced Tommy to once again watch everything fall into a state of panic from the outside. Randi let out a shriek and yelled something about a Death Vessell, but Tommy didn’t have time to respond. He explained to Rocco how the cannonball landed in the space between him and everyone who mattered in his life, splintering the ship, and sending everyone into a frenzy. In the distance, he heard a voice, the voice of a woman yelling something.
“Slate! You hit them, darling!”
Tommy had no clue who the woman was, nor did he recognize the name “Slate.” The scotch and the mild sedative were kicking in, and his speech was slowing. He struggled to describe the scene to Rocco as his eyes grew heavier. His words trailed off into nothingness as he described the scene of seeing everyone he cared about sinking into the water before glancing up and staring into the cold, dead eyes of a man he had never seen before. He could only assume that the man was Slate.
Rocco wasn’t sure if that was how the dream ended, but Tommy mercifully drifted off to sleep. Rocco carefully slid the empty glass out of his hand, set it on the coffee table, and pulled out his cell phone. It was almost 5 AM, which was the time that Rocco typically started his days. He looked at Tommy, hoping that the dose he slipped him would force him to get some rest as he scrolled through his contacts and stopped on a number he hadn’t used in quite some time. For a moment, Rocco hesitated, but he knew what he had to do.
The expensive scotch and mild sedative had done the trick. Tommy finally started stirring as he looked around the living room with some confusion. As wintertime settled in over Sweetwater, the days were getting shorter, and the sun was already setting when he woke up. Was it alright night? Was it still early morning? He had no idea.
“Glad you’re up. Go get changed. We have dinner reservations in an hour.” “What time is it?”
“Little after 5. You’ve been asleep for about 12 hours. Any nightmares?” “I don’t think so. Holy shit. How did I sleep that long?”
“I spiked your drink. Slipped you a mild sedative. You needed the rest. Seriously, go clean yourself up a bit. Reservations are at 6:30.”
Tommy walked down the hallway toward the bathroom, splashed some water on his face, brushed his teeth, and stepped into the bedroom to find clothes.
“Where are we going in Sweetwater that you need a reservation? There’s nothing here,” he yelled down the hallway.
“It’s not in Sweetwater. It’s over in Abilene, a new place called Elle’s. Some sort of fusion place.”
Tommy came down the hallway wearing a black t-shirt and jeans that looked remarkably like those that he had just taken off. Rocco couldn’t help but chuckle at Tommy’s monotone wardrobe.
“You want me to drive?”
“Yea. Let’s take yours. I’ll navigate.”
Tommy sent Randi a quick text, letting her know that he was going to Abilene for dinner with Rocco. She had been relieved to find out that he had slept, even though Rocco hadn’t told her about the spiked scotch. As they drove into the setting sun, Rocco checked his phone once again. He quickly replied to a message and slipped his phone into the breast pocket of his jacket. For a moment, Tommy thought Rocco was acting strange, but he quickly chalked it up to his paranoia.
Tommy wheeled his truck into the parking lot at Elle’s, and immediately realized just how out of place he was going to be. Most spots were taken, and every car was some sort of sports car. This was clearly an upscale dining establishment, and he knew that he would never fit in. As they stepped into the front door and were greeted by an attractive hostess, Tommy’s
assumptions were proven true. The large dining room was filled with men in designer suits and beautiful women in expensive outfits. Rocco straightened his blazer a bit as they were led to a table near the back of the room.
“You could have told me about the dress code.”
“Would it have mattered?” Rocco chuckled a bit.
“Probably not. I don’t own dress clothes.”
Tommy and Rocco took their seats and were immediately greeted by a young waitress who flashed a million-dollar smile and introduced himself as Trevor. He would be their waiter for the evening, and he immediately started rattling through the specials. Tommy didn’t even recognize half the items he said. Fortunately, Rocco frequented fancier restaurants and immediately segued into what they would have.
Trevor quickly reappeared with two glasses filled with some sort of alcohol. Tommy wasn’t sure what he was drinking, but that had never stopped him before. Tommy and Rocco had never struggled to make conversation, but things just weren’t the same. Tommy was preoccupied, and Rocco knew it. He knew him better than anyone, perhaps even better than Randi. Rocco sipped on his drink as Tommy took a long pull from the glass.
“This Keres girl. She’s in your head pretty good, isn’t she, kid?”
“Looks like it, Rocco. I don’t know, buddy. I’ve beaten people bigger than her. Hell, I’ve fought people meaner than her. There’s just something different about this.”
“There is. In Greek mythology, the Keres were female death spirits.”
“That really helps, Rocco. Thanks a lot.”
Tommy finished off the alcohol in his glass and held it up in Trevor’s general direction. The young man quickly responded and brought him a second drink.
“They were the personification of violence. That’s probably why she’s decided to set her sights on the X Title. Blood, gore, destruction, all those things drew the Keres to the battlefields. Wherever there was violence, the Keres were there.”
“Are you trying to make me want to drink more, Rocco? Seriously. Outside of you drugging me today, I’ve barely slept in weeks. I’m having nightmares, Randi is gone, Walker is gone. Just between us, I feel like I’m losing it, man.”
“Let me finish, kid. The Keres were drawn to blood and violence since they were the spirits of death. But guess what? They didn’t actually have the power to kill anybody. All they could do was sit by and wait to feast on the dead.”
“Rocco, I’m sleep-deprived and a little buzzed. How ‘bout you just dumb this down for me?”
“They were all bark and no bite. They showed up whenever there was violence and destruction, but they couldn’t actually do anything. Keres is torturing you, I get that. Somehow, she’s inside your head, she’s wreaking havoc. But I think she knows that she can’t take you out. That’s why she’s doing all this spooky shit. She has to haunt you because she can’t hunt you.”
Tommy wanted to find comfort in those words, but it was hard to see past the inner turmoil that Keres had brought into his life. He mulled Rocco’s words over and then he saw him. Lucien Carpathia was walking around the room, shaking hands, and greeting guests. Was this his restaurant?! Had Rocco landed a table at the hottest new restaurant in Abilene that was owned by Satan himself? A cold chill went down Tommy’s spine as he tried to angle himself away from Lucien. He hadn’t told Rocco or anyone else about the deal he had struck with the Devil in the weeks before Back in Business.
It was futile. From two tables away, Lucien locked eyes with Tommy and made his way toward the table.
“Is…is this who I think it is? Do I have Fantasy Wrestling Alliance X Champion, Tommy Bedlam in my establishment?”
Maybe he wouldn’t say anything. Tommy would go along with the little ruse, pretend he had never seen Lucien before, and Rocco would never know.
“Yes, I’ve heard some good things. So, you’re the owner?”
“I am. And I’m a huge fan. Where are my manners? Rocco Sullivan. So nice to meet you. Gentlemen, order anything you’d like tonight. It’s on the house. I’m a huge fan of you both.”
“I, we, appreciate that.”
For what felt like forever, Lucien stood at the table, a smirk across his face. He didn’t appear evil. He was good at this. Of course, he was. He was Satan. Manipulation was one of his strongest traits. He looked down at Rocco, and that’s when Tommy saw it. Rocco returned his smile. Tommy had seen that shit-eating grin on Rocco’s face before. It usually happened when he was telling a story about ribbing one of the boys back when he was a wrestler. What was going on?
“Shall we tell him, Rocco?”
“I think we should. The poor kid has been through enough lately.”
“Seriously. What the hell is going on?”
Tommy Bedlam didn’t like surprises, and he was even less in the mood for them than usual. Lucien motioned for one of his employees to bring him a chair and he sat down at the table with Rocco and Tommy.
“Tommy, this may come as a surprise to you, but I wasn’t totally honest with you when we met for the first time over the summer.”
“Satan wasn’t totally honest. Wow, I’m stunned.”
“Let me finish. I told you that I had been following your career and wanted to get into the world of professional wrestling. That wasn’t necessarily true. Someone called me and told me that they thought that I should give you a look.”
As he finished his sentence, he looked at Rocco, whose smile had been replaced by a look of trepidation.
“Tommy, I contacted Lucien. You were fighting against a man who was as evil and twisted as anyone that I’ve ever seen in this business. I knew you had the physical capabilities, but Summers was a different beast. I also knew that there was only so far that I would be able to take you.”
This flood of information was almost more than Tommy could process. Taking the lack of sleep and the high-end alcohol out of the equation, he had just found out that Rocco had brokered the deal in which Tommy sold his soul to the Devil.
“Let’s back this thing way up. Rocco, how did you know Sa….Lucien? You said you called him.”
“How about I answer that one, Rocco? Tommy, it was 1983. Rocco here was one of the hottest names in the world of wrestling, at least in the Midwest. As I mentioned to you before, I’m always looking to…diversify my portfolio, so I wanted to get into wrestling. I offered Rocco Sullivan a deal, much like the one I offered you.”
“What?! So you bought Rocco’s soul 40 years before you bought mine? That’s what this whole thing was about? Rocco, is that why you got me signed to FWA?”
Tommy was getting angrier by the second, but the atmosphere at Elle’s was simply too jovial for anyone to notice his ever-raising voice.
“No, Tommy. That’s not the case at all. In fact, I told Lucien to shove his offer up his ass. I walked out of the building, and never saw him again until tonight. Two weeks after I walked away from the table, I blew out my knee. My career was over.”
“So that’s how this works, Lucien? You make people offers and if they decline you end their careers?”
“You overestimate me, Tommy. I didn’t end Rocco’s career. The Devil didn’t make his knee blow out. But, since he and I didn’t have a deal, I didn’t have any reason, or any way, to supernaturally protect my investment. We stayed in touch over the years, never in person, always by phone. I wanted to get into the wrestling industry, but I’ll be honest, I don’t have time to really follow it. So over the summer, no pun intended, Rocco reached out to me about you. I made an offer, you accepted, and your career has never been better.”
“Yea, career is going great. I have some sort of little voodoo witch haunting my dreams, my fiance is gone, and I haven’t seen my kid in over a week. I’m well on my way to being just like Sammy. Thanks fellas. I’m gonna be leaving now. Rocco, find your own fucking way home.”
“Sit down, Tommy. Rocco was right about your short fuse. First of all, you’re nothing like Sammy. Trust me; I checked out his career back in the 80s and realized that not even I could get him to any level of real success. Rocco called me about you when you were dealing with Summers because you needed something new to overcome the worst of the worst. Why do you think he called me today?”
“Because you guys don’t think I can beat Keres? Your confidence in me is overwhelming, really. I’ve already beaten her once. I can do it again.”
Tommy pushed his seat back from the table and started to stand up when Lucien put his hand on Tommy’s forearm. He had never felt something so cold and lifeless before. Almost instinctively, he sat down in his seat.
“Nobody said you can’t beat Keres. You’ve proven that you can, and that’s exactly why she’s doing the things she’s doing. She’s in your head, kid. Summers didn’t even have you losing
sleep like this. You’re distracted. You miss Randi, you miss Walker, and you want me out of your apartment. Shit, I want out of that place. It’s way too small for my taste. I got in touch with Lucien because I believe he can help you in ways that I can’t.”
“Rocco here is correct. It’s a shame it took him 40 years to recognize the kind of services that I can provide. Mr. Sullivan here, he’s doing an excellent job with you and your career. Honestly, I chose you because I have so much faith in this guy. The way he breaks down tape for you to help you prepare is expert-level. But Keres has waged a type of warfare against you that Rocco can’t get on tape, and you need me. This is what I’m here for, you know.”
At that moment, Tommy was done with everyone. He considered telling both of them to go to hell, but he realized that telling Lucien to go home wouldn’t carry much weight. He could always vacate the X Title, walk away from wrestling, and go to Tulsa with Randi and Walker. But what would he do? He was stuck. He looked around at the food being carried out from the kitchen but had no appetite.
“You guys have me by the balls here, don’t you? I sold my soul, so I guess I have to do your bidding, don’t I?”
“I’ll tell you what, Tommy. I’ll let you out of the deal. If you tell me right now that you want to walk away, you can go. No hard feelings and the contract is null and void. But, before you decide, you need to understand something about this match at Winter Wasteland. Keres and the rest of the TORN Universe are…familiar to me. You can walk away from our deal, but you’re still going to have to face her in a few weeks. You can prepare like you normally do. Hell, it’s not like you’re sleeping, so you should have plenty of time to study her. Or, you can use the tools that I have at my disposal. The choice is yours.”
“We all know what I’m going to choose, but you guys will have to forgive me if this whole thing is just a little much. Shit, I’ve hidden our whole deal from Rocco since the day we met because I didn’t want to advertise the decision I made. Now I find out that you were both in this together, and you seem to think I need you to face some goth girl.”
“Tommy, Keres is not ‘some goth girl.’ She is very capable, and she is quite evil. She comes by it honestly. Her parents, Slate and Eden Bassignani have created quite a name for themselves in the worlds of wrestling, art, and literature. I know Slate quite well; we’ve had some dealings in the past. That’s all I should say about that. But you go ahead and go home, think about what you want to do, and you can reach out to me tomorrow. No pressure. I’ll have one of my employees give Rocco a lift. We need to catch up anyway. It’s been 40 years.”
Tommy stood up from the table and put on his jacket, and in doing so, he missed the looks that were exchanged between Rocco and Lucien. He probably should have paid more attention.
Tommy made his way toward his truck, still attempting to process everything that he had just learned. He hit the button to unlock the doors, but nothing happened. He hit it once again, but there was nothing. Assuming the battery had gone dead in his fob, he stuck the key in the door, and that’s when they struck. He never saw them coming.
A black van pulled up beside Tommy’s truck, and before he could react, two massive masked men jumped out of the sliding back door. He tried to fight them off, but they were both bigger than him. His resistance was futile. They shoved a black hood over his head and shoved him into the van. His head bounced off a metal box of some sort, and the van’s tires squealed as it peeled out of the parking lot. Addled by the blow to the head, he wasn’t able to resist as his unknown assailants bound his hands and feet.
Tommy’s mind went straight to Randi and Walker. Somehow, in the middle of the chaos that his abduction brought about, he found some sort of solace in the fact that he thought of them instead of himself. Maybe he wasn’t quite as disgusting as his own father. Of course, his second thought focused on who was behind this. Keres? She seemed far more likely to haunt his dreams and torment him mentally than to resort to kidnapping. Summers? Tommy hadn’t seen
him since the second night of Back in Business. He briefly wondered if it could tie back to Bobby Ray Gallimore, but there was no way to know.
“Alright, mother fuckers. I’m not sure what you think you’re gonna get out of this. I don’t have enough money to be worth a ransom. If you think the company I work for is gonna pay you a bunch of money, you’re probably gonna be disappointed. I don’t matter that much. So let’s just pull the van over, and you can either roll me out on the side of the road, or you can untie me and we’ll fight this thing out.”
There was no response, not that he really expected one. He had watched enough of those damned true-crime shows with Randi to know how this would probably play out. He wasn’t going to show any fear, but he assumed he was going to be taken to an abandoned building somewhere and likely tortured. For what? He wasn’t sure, but everyone who got abducted from a dark parking lot wound up tortured and eventually killed.
“You boys know, it takes some real pussies to jump a guy from behind, two-on-one, and then throw him in a van. That’s some bitch shit if I’ve ever heard it.”
They weren’t going to respond, so Tommy was at least going to get his money’s worth before they murdered him and threw his body in a ditch. Would anybody care? Randi would probably be sad for a while, but she was gorgeous, smart, and hilarious. She would find somebody else. Walker would never remember him. Rocco would probably find another up-and-comer to sign a contract. Hell, he may even rope that guy into a deal with Lucien. Crowe would be pissed off and would probably vow to find the people who did it, but he had already found another partner to work with. Russnow would probably schedule a tournament to name a new X Champion the next week after the customary 10-bell salute. It was a staggering realization when Tommy recognized that the world wouldn’t look that different the next day if he wasn’t a part of it.
It felt like the van had been driving for hours, but there was no way for Tommy to really know. He tried to keep up with what directions the driver was turning, but it just wasn’t possible. The hood was still over his head, and he was losing feeling in his hands and feet. He continued to hurl insults at whoever was in the van, but no one responded. In fact, none of them made a noise.
They drove, drove, and drove some more. Either because of the hood that was still over his head or the temperature in the van, Tommy was feeling ill. If they were going to murder him, why not just go ahead and do it? Suddenly, he felt the van take a hard left-hand turn and slow down. He assumed they had arrived at the location where someone would find his body a few days later.
Again, no one in the van said a word. He wasn’t even sure how many of them there were. Other than the two who had grabbed him and stuck the mask on his head, he had no idea how many other thugs were in the van. He heard the metal door slide open and felt four hands grab him. They dragged him a few feet away, and he felt the ends of his boots go from skidding across the pavement to some grass.
One of the abductors cut the tape free from his ankles and he tried to throw a kick in what he thought was his general direction but missed. The tape from his wrists was finally cut off, and he went for the hood on his head as quickly as he could. Somehow, by the time he snatched the black hood from his head, the men were gone, and so was the van.
Disoriented and angry, Tommy began to look around. He was standing near the front steps of a house that he had never seen before. Its towering walls seemed to reach into the sky. The landscaping was majestic, with brightly colored flowers lining the perfectly manicured sidewalks. Light purple wistaria scaled the outer walls, contrasting against the dark brick. Tommy had no idea where he was, but he was quite certain that there wasn’t a house anywhere in Sweetwater that looked like the one that he stood in front of.
There were no other homes in sight, and not a single street light illuminated the roadway. Where were the men who brought him here? Why was he still alive? His mind raced as he tried to process the questions that were coming faster than he could concoct answers to. He made his way slowly, cautiously to the large curved door at the front of the home, and reached for the doorbell. Before he could press the pearl-white button surrounded by an ornate bronze frame, the door swung open, and Tommy heard a familiar voice.
“Slate! Slate, our guest has finally arrived. Hello Mr. Bedlam, we’ve been waiting for you.”
He knew he had heard that voice before, but he was struggling to figure out where it was from. “Mr. Bedlam, please come in.”
Tommy looked up and down the street once more, but there was nothing in sight. This massive home was clearly isolated, and he had no idea where he was at. The woman was gorgeous and appeared to be in her 40s, maybe. She was wearing a dress that Tommy could only guess cost as much as his truck, and her black heels gave her a certain presence as she strolled across the tile floor in the foyer.
His mind was racing when he finally recognized the voice. It was the same one that he had heard in last night’s nightmare. That was the woman who was on the other ship when Tommy saw everyone he cared for drowning. Suddenly, the pieces were coming together. Keres was behind the abduction and everything else that had been going on.
The woman who stood in front of him in the atrium invited Tommy in, quickly bringing him into a grand dining room. There was a table that looked like it could seat 30 guests. Were there more people coming to whatever the hell this was? Tommy knew that Keres and Princess Nova had completely changed everything about Lizzie Rose who now went by “Elizabeth.” Was there plan to brainwash him and drag him into their little cult?
“Mr. Bedlam, please grab a seat. My husband will be with you in a moment. I’m going to go see what’s happening in the kitchen.”
As quickly as she had appeared, she was gone. Tommy could hear her designer heels clacking on the floor down the hallway. He sat down at one end of the huge table and started looking around for an exit. There had been so many twists and turns between the front door and the dining room, he wasn’t completely sure how to get back out. He damn sure wasn’t staying.
Instinctively, he reached his hand toward the back waistband of his jeans. He wasn’t going to wave his gun around, but he wanted to be sure that he could get to it quickly. It was gone. The Ruger 9mm that he always carried for personal protection wasn’t in the holster. The goons who jumped him must have taken it.
Tommy heard footsteps coming toward him from a distant hallway. He assumed that it was the same lady who had brought him into the house, but that wasn’t the case at all.
“Good evening Mr. Bedlam. So glad you could join us. My name is Slate Bassignani. Welcome to my…Residence.”
Tommy’s heart was beating in his throat, but he refused to show an ounce of fear. If he had survived being abducted from a parking lot, he was certain he could handle whatever this guy was going to throw at him.
Slate Bassignani had a look about him that intimidated everyone he came in contact with. His expensive suit was something even more high-end than the suits that Rocco and Lucien wore. His olive skin looked like it had been tanned in hours of the sunlight, but his dark, glaring eyes that set against it indicated that he was from the Mediterranean region. His jet-black hair made him look even younger.
“I assume you’re probably looking for this. I’m sorry that we had to confiscate it. It’s simply a security measure we have here at The Residence; no firearms.”
Slate Bassignani held up Tommy’s pistol and laid it on the table.
“With how you get people here, I can see why you don’t want them armed. I would have probably shot the place up and forced my way back out.”
“It’s nice that you think such a thing would even be plausible, Mr. Bedlam, but you wouldn’t have forced your way out. You see, you can’t come to The Residence unless we send for you and bring you, and you simply cannot leave until we decide that it’s time for you to go.”
“So what’s the deal, Mr. Bassignani? Do you mind if I just call you Slate? Your last name is a mouthful.”
“That’ll be fine. And since we’re dropping the formalities, I’ll just start calling you Tommy. I hate formalities, especially here at home. As far as ‘the deal,’ as you so eloquently put it, I’ve simply brought you here to talk about this little situation that we have concerning you and my daughter, Keres.”
“Ahh. So the little goth girl has her rich daddy trying to take me out before Winter Wasteland? I’m gonna be honest with you, Slate. That surprises me just a bit. I’ve already been in a couple of matches with your daughter, and she’s good. Tough girl. I’m sure you’re aware that my friend and I beat her and Princess Nova a few weeks back, and then The Buddy System beat all of us.”
Slate barely reacted to Tommy’s subtle jab at his daughter.
“I’m very much aware of all of that. I don’t typically attend the shows, but I keep up with everything that my little girl does. Her mother and I are quite proud of her, especially since she’s decided to pursue your X Title.”
“She’s pursuing it because I challenged her to a match for it.”
“You challenged her to a match for your title because we’ve made your life miserable. You see, Tommy, everything that you’ve been dealing with has been our work. The nightmares, the visions, all of it. We’ve been breaking you down from the inside out. I need to give you some credit, you’ve handled it better than most. Which is why I brought you here.”
“You brought me here to what? Kill me? Good luck, Slate. Do you want to keep me locked up until after Winter Wasteland? Again, I’m gonna say good luck.”
“None of that, Tommy. I want to make you an offer. Any sort of violence is an absolute last resort.”
“An offer?”
“Take a look around Tommy. I’m a very, very wealthy man. I know that you have a family, too. You’d do anything for Randi and Walker, wouldn’t you?”
There was certainly no denying that Slate was a man of means. His walls were covered in artwork that was clearly expensive. Tommy didn’t know anything about art, but it was clear that Slate treated it as an investment. The furniture in The Residence was all obviously high-end. Everything about the home exuded opulence.
“I would.”
Tommy gave a concise, cold answer. He hated hearing this man even say the name of his fiance and their baby.
“Now, I’ve made most of my money in art and literature, but I’m also somewhat familiar with wrestling. I know that as the X Champion, you make a bit more money. There are more merchandise sales. There are more endorsement opportunities. I know that you like bringing home more money to Randi and Walker, but what if I made you an offer that would completely change your life, and in turn, theirs? What sort of money would that look like? I’m a man of means, Tommy, and just like you, I’d do anything for my child.”
“So you brought me here to try to buy the X Title from me? Slate, I’m going to be honest, I’m a little surprised. I thought that Keres was a strong enough opponent to go out and win something on her own.”
“She is, but I’ve been told that you’re a man who likes to make deals. This wouldn’t be the first thing that you’ve sold, is it?”
Tommy wanted to pretend to not know what he was talking about, but he knew that doing so was stupid. Obviously, Slate had found out about the deal that Tommy had cut months ago with Lucien. He gave him a look from one end of the long dining table to the other and didn’t blink.
Slate pulled a checkbook and an ink pen from the pocket of his suit jacket. Even the pen that the man held looked like it was expensive.
“Alright, Tommy. Let’s cut to the chase. How many zeroes do I need to put on this check to make you throw the match? Let’s not act like you’d be the first person in the world of professional wrestling to take a dive for some extra money. I’ll give you enough money to make it possible for you to retire after Winter Wasteland. Obviously, you don’t have to if you want to keep wrestling, but you’d be free to walk away any time you’d like. How much would that take?”
Tommy chuckled and shook his head. Slate never took his dark, lifeless eyes away from him.
“Slate, don’t take this personally, but there’s nothing you could offer me to make me throw this match. I love being the X Champion. So, with all due respect, you can shove your checkbook up your ass.”
People didn’t typically talk to Slate Bassignani with such disrespect, and he was clearly annoyed. However, Slate had been involved in enough high-level negotiations to know that you never show weakness in any form. He calmly closed his checkbook and placed it back into his jacket.
“Tommy, how about we step into my den? The dining room feels so, so…formal. I know that you’re a man who enjoys a nice drink, and I have some old scotch down the hall that’s been waiting for an evening like this.”
As they stood up from the table, Slate picked up Tommy’s pistol and slid it in the front of his own waistband. As they made their way down the long hallway, Tommy couldn’t help but notice that there was more expensive artwork hanging from the walls. To no surprise, the den was filled with more of the same. In addition to the artwork that covered every wall, several bookshelves sagged under the weight of what Tommy could only assume were rare, expensive books.
Slate motioned for Tommy to sit down in one of the leather chairs as he moved to the other side of the desk. He poured a glass of scotch for Tommy and slid it toward him before pouring one for himself. Tommy had already decided that he wasn’t drinking anything that Slate offered him. He assumed that the man was simply looking for a way to poison him and get him out of the equation before Winter Wasteland.
Tommy was startled when he heard a voice on the other side of the door, and Eden, the woman whom he hadn’t seen since his arrival made her way in. She sat down in the chair closest to Tommy without a word.
“Tommy, I can’t help but notice that you look a bit haggard. How long has it been since you got a good night’s sleep?”
“Slate! That’s rude. You’ll have to excuse him, Mr. Bedlam. Sometimes he just doesn’t seem to have a filter between his brain and his mouth.”
“Please, let’s drop the Mr. and Mrs. stuff. And you don’t need to apologize. He’s right. I haven’t been sleeping too well lately.”
Tommy realized that there wasn’t any point in lying. Clearly, these people had the ability to know things that they had no business knowing. Tommy knew that whatever sort of dark magic they dabbled in was to blame for his lack of sleep, and perhaps more importantly, he knew that Slate knew.
“I suppose that I owe you an apology for that. Sometimes Keres gets a bit carried away, and I guess I should admit that she gets her persistence from me. But you have to understand, Tommy, you’re a large, hulking man. Moreover, you’re accomplished. A win over you would put Keres on a stage bigger than the one she already stands on. It would be great for ETERNAL, it would give even more credence to the life that we’ve erected in the TORN Universe, and it would allow us to reach even more people. Besides, some of the greatest champions in any walk of life were those who knew who to succeed in psychological warfare.”
“Well, considering Keres appears in some form in every nightmare, I had assumed that she had something to do with it.”
“Wasn’t the most recent one so much fun? The one with the ships, of course. Slate decided that it would be fun to put you in the middle of the story that Keres told just before the Garden of Eden match earlier this year. Granted, we didn’t expect you to have such a visceral reaction to that one.”
These people weren’t only haunting his dreams. Somehow, they had figured out how to watch his reaction to them.
“Alright, folks. Let’s cut through all the bullshit here. You’re not sorry about the bad dreams. Hell, I wouldn’t expect you to be sorry for them. They’re quite effective. I haven’t slept through a night in weeks. So what are we doing here?”
“I’m glad you asked, Tommy. Obviously, you weren’t moved by the money. I’ll concede that I’m a bit shocked by that. Perhaps you didn’t fully realize how much money I could have offered you, but regardless, the money is off the table. What if I offered you something even better than money?”
“Oh, good. I was hoping that we would go this route. I’ve been so troubled by the way that we’ve been accosting you during the night. However, I was glad that Keres was kind enough to give Walker that doll a couple of weeks back. She’s often had problems sharing and playing well with others.”
Instinctively, Tommy’s fist balled up. He considered knocking Eden out right where she sat, but he also knew that doing so would only make things more complicated for him. His tension wasn’t unnoticed.
“Tommy, calm down. You’re probably so on edge because you haven’t been resting. You miss your fiance and your little boy. Sending them away was a noble move. Not only did the purple-feather-clad doll let you know that there was trouble, but I know that you were at least a bit concerned that some of the violence that you saw in your dreams might come bubbling out. What if there was a way to make all of that end?”
“To make what end? The nightmares? Hell, Slate; I’m getting pretty used to not sleeping. I’m not completely sure that it matters anymore.”
Slate let out an audible laugh at the idiocy of what Tommy had just said.
“Even if that were true, Tommy, and it’s not, the offer that I’m making goes far beyond you getting a full eight hours. Your home really isn’t a home anymore, is it? With Randi and Walker gone to Tulsa, you’re back to living like you lived for years. Wouldn’t it be nice if everything went back to normal?”
Tommy felt the heat making its way up his neck. He sat the glass, still filled with scotch, back on Slate’s desk. He was afraid that he was going to squeeze it so hard that it exploded in his hand.
“And how do you propose that we make that possible, Slate?”
“It’s quite simple, really. I want my daughter to be the new FWA X Champion, and I believe that you’re a man of your word. Isn’t that a crucial part of that damned ‘cowboy code’ that you people in Texas talk about so much? If you make a promise to me that you’ll take a dive, I think we could make all of those nighttime issues go away. We, myself, my wife, and even Keres will stay out of your dreams. Also, there won’t be any more little gifts in Walker’s crib.”
Tommy had rejected the offer for money, so Slate was ramping things up. For a moment, Tommy mulled the offer over. He couldn’t help it. Physically, he was tired. Also, he hated the idea of going back to the apartment and not seeing Randi and Walker there. Should he take the deal? Slate leaned back in his chair and killed off the remaining scotch in his glass, a look of pure satisfaction on his face. He knew that the wheels were turning.
“Slate, I’d appreciate it if you stopped talking about Randi and Walker. Don’t take it personally, but I have an issue with someone who doesn’t really know me and my family talking about them.”
“Oh, Tommy. I find it both funny and sad that you don’t think I know them. I would venture a guess that I know more about them than you realize. Hell, I may know more about them than you do. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed this yet, but I don’t necessarily operate on the same plane that you live on. I have my ways, Tommy and my ways seem to be quite effective. We wanted you weakened, and you’re not looking particularly strong. We wanted you isolated, and the only people left in your corner are an aging Rocco and a distracted Chris Crowe. You take the deal, and everything goes away.”
“Slate, do you remember what I said you could do with your checkbook?”
“If I remember correctly, you told me that I could ‘shove it up my ass.”
“Your memory is good. You’ve obviously been sleeping well. If there’s any room up your ass beside that check you tried to write, you can slide this offer right up there with it. Now, if you folks will excuse me, I’ll be leaving.”
Tommy got up and stormed out of the den. Once again, his tendency to act first and think later bit him in the ass. He had no idea where he was going. Slate had already mentioned that people didn’t leave The Residence of their own accord. He stepped into the hallway and instinctively took a left-hand turn, walking back toward some of the gaudy, expensive artwork that he had noticed on his trip into the den. He heard footsteps coming behind him.
“Tommy, I’m not sure that you want to do this. Come back into the den and let’s talk this out. As we’ve already discussed, you’re not going to just walk out of my home. Not only do you not know the way, but there isn’t truly a way out.”
Tommy stood under what was undoubtedly an expensive painting of a naked woman resting on a cloud. He considered slamming Slate’s head into the glass, but this place had more corridors and corners than he could possibly imagine.
“I’m not going back to your den. I’m not drinking your scotch. I’m not taking any of your offers. I’m going to fight your daughter at Winter Wasteland, and when I beat her ass and keep my title, I’m going to find you, and I’m going to kill you. Slate, here’s an offer from me. Show me the door of this place and I’ll let you live to see tomorrow.”
Slate was not remotely moved by Tommy’s words. In fact, he let out a laugh. This wasn’t a bluff. Instead, it was a genuine laugh that echoed down the long hall with such power that it caused Eden to stick her head out of the den to see what the two men were joking about in the hall. She quickly realized, after looking at Tommy’s face, that there had been no jokes told. She knew what was coming, and it was anything but a laughing matter.
“Tommy, Tommy, Tommy. Once again, your temper and that damn mouth of yours are putting you in trouble. A moment ago, you asked me if I remembered what you had said to me in the dining hall. Of course, I remembered. In fact, I can’t recall the last time that someone spoke to me with such disrespect.”
Tommy had clearly gotten under Slate’s skin. There was a large vein in his right temple that bulged out through the place where his black hair met his olive skin. His dark eyes burned with a fury that Tommy had not yet seen as he moved in closer.
“The question is, Tommy Bedlam, do you remember what I said to you in the dining room just before I made you a very generous offer?”
Tommy’s mind raced as he tried to replay every word that he and Slate had spoken to each other since the master of The Residence made his way to the table. There had been a lot of words tossed back and forth, and Tommy was struggling to recall all of them.
“Let me help you out, you dumb fucking hick. I told you that any act of violence would be a last resort. I didn’t bring you here to hurt you. I had you brought here, to my not-so-humble abode to make you some offers that would make life better for you and your family. But you
have been impossible to deal with since the moment you were delivered to my door. With that said, I believe that violence is the only option that I have left.”
In one fluid motion, Slate let out a piercing whistle through his teeth as Tommy seamlessly grabbed the Ruger from the front of his waistband. He fired off a shot that Slate somehow managed to duck, causing the bullet to careen wildly between the narrow walls that lined the hallway. The bullet finally came to rest in the middle of a large painting of some dead Greek philosopher.
By the time Tommy got his bearings, the creature was only a few feet away from him. He had never seen anything quite like it. It was as though something had lept out of a horror movie and its hot, sulfuric breath beat against his face. Its own face looked like a woman. In fact, its eyes looked like Keres, Feminine in nature, but cold and demonic. The creature had fangs that dripped with a nauseating mix of saliva and blood. The creature had a mix of fur and scales lining its body and claws that looked like long blades.
Tommy could hear Slate screaming as he made his way down the seemingly endless hallway. “Eris! Destroy him!”
Tommy had never seen anything like the creature that stood before him. The top of its back seemed to scrape the vaulted ceiling of the hallway as its shoulders moved the picture frames that hung on each wall. It had stopped running and began to slowly, methodically make its way toward a backpedaling Tommy as he fired multiple shots at the beast.
She was impervious to it. The bullets hit her, seeming to pierce the hybrid of fur and scales, but nothing happened. In fact, Tommy was convinced that he saw her smile at him as the sixteenth and final round emptied from the clip. Angered and scared, Tommy slammed the gun into the floor as he turned to flee, trying desperately to create some separation between himself and whatever the hell Eris was.
Tommy made his way into a room that looked a lot like Slate’s den. There was expensive furniture everywhere and a roaring fire crackled in the corner fireplace that was surrounded by rocks. Tommy slammed the door and leaned against it for a moment, but it was futile. Eris mule-kicked the door with one of her massive back feet, ripping it from its hinges and throwing Tommy headlong into the stone hearth. He was immediately busted open.
Tommy grabbed some sort of ancient sword that was hung on the wall and began to wield it wildly at Eris. As he struggled to look through the steady stream of blood that slowly seeped down his face, he could see fur and scales flying wildly into the air, some of them landing in the fire.
Tommy finally lunged the blade forward, burying it in the neck of the beast. She raised up on her two hind legs and let out some sort of a roar that was mixed with a screech. The sound came forth with such veracity that it rattled the massive stained glass window that covered most of the wall furthest from the fireplace. For the first time since he laid eyes on Eris, she was reeling. However, his sword was stuck in her neck.
She was wounded as she began to careen off of the walls in the room. One errant bounce resulted in a large shelf that was filled with books falling dangerously close to the fire. One of the ancient tomes caught a spark, and before long, the entire shelf was engulfed in flames. The fire rapidly spread, catching the carpet, the walls, and everything else on fire.
As Eris’ blood mixed with the ever-spreading flames, Tommy realized how important it was for him to find a way out. There was simply no way for him to get around Eris and to the door. Even if he did, he had no idea where he would go. He had no time to think. Somehow, through the pain that she was obviously feeling, Eris locked her eyes on Tommy once more, seemingly drawn to the blood that poured from his head and down his face.
Tommy grabbed a large wooden African djembe that was starting to catch fire and threw it into the face of the wounded Eris. This time, there was no screech or growl. Instead, a wicked hiss came from the face of the beast. The eyes of Keres still locked firmly on Tommy who did the only thing that he knew to do. He hurled himself into the stained glass window, shattering it.
As he hurled helplessly into the night sky, not knowing where he was falling to or what he might land on, Tommy felt a surge of supernatural strength chorus through his veins. He couldn’t explain it, but as he watched Eris stand at the edge of the shattered window, he suddenly didn’t care if she dove out after him, which she did.
In addition to the amount of blood that was pouring from her neck, she was on fire. Tommy watched as the glowing ball of death fell toward him against the clear night sky. He didn’t think to look down at what he was falling toward until the last possible minute. He landed hard against the ground, instinctively rolling to try to lessen the impact.
He landed and didn’t seem to break any bones. He had no idea how far he had fallen, but the last thing he saw before hitting the ground was the spreading flames slowly consuming every inch of The Residence. As he slowly rose to his knees, he saw Eris slowing her run as she continued to burn and lose blood. For a moment, he hung his head and embraced the silence. That silence was shortlived, as he heard something coming toward him. What was that? It sounded like…applause?
“Excellent job, Tommy Bedlam! Absolutely incredible work, there. Rocco, do you think our boy is ready?”
“I believe he is. You OK, kid?”
Tommy was confused. He looked around, and suddenly, there was no burning mansion. His eyes darted through the darkness for any sign of Eris fleeing into the night, but there was nothing. From the shadows, Lucien and Rocco slowly made their way toward him.
“Seriously guys, somebody needs to tell me what the fuck is going on. Y’all got about 30 seconds to let me know what’s up.”
“Listen, kid, this match at Winter Wasteland isn’t like some of your matches from the past. Keres and the rest of her little universe have launched a full scale assault on you. Tape from past matches, scouting reports, none of that was going to help you.”
“Where the fuck have I been? Where am I now?!”
Tommy looked around and realized he was standing in the same parking lot that he had been taken from earlier in the night. How much earlier? He wasn’t sure.”
“You’ve been with some of my other…let’s call them ‘employees,’ shall we? Rocco has been keeping me up to date about everything that’s going on, and as I mentioned earlier, I know Slate Bassignani quite well.”
“So you sent me in to destroy him, The Residence, all of that?”
“Not quite. You see, Tommy, you never actually left this property.”
“I’ve been at your restaurant the whole time?”
“Well, you’ve been here the whole time. There is no restaurant. I’m busy enough with all my other investments. Putting a gourmet restaurant in Abilene, Texas sounds absolutely dreadful. You’ve never been to The Residence, but I orchestrated a few things, set up a temporary shop in this building, and had Rocco bring you here under the guise of a nice dinner. A couple of my guys-”
“Demons.”
“That sounds bad. I prefer referring to them as trusted members of my team. Anyway, they picked you up, drove you around for a bit, and then dropped you back off.”
“Goddammit, you guys tried to kill me, and for what? What was the point of all that? That’s how you ‘protect your investment?!”
“Tommy, you gotta calm down. We did what needed to be done to make sure that you’re ready to put an end to Keres.”
“And how in the blue hell did trying to kill me in a flaming mansion with an angry beast set me up for that? I’m beat half to death here and have a big match coming up.”
“You’re only looking at the physical aspect of this, Tommy. That was the entire point. What did Rocco tell you earlier about the Keres in Greek mythology? They feasted on the bodies of
those who were dead, but they had no power to actually kill anyone. That’s why Keres and the rest of her ilk have been so relentless about tormenting you and trying to destroy what matters the most to you.”
Tommy was still annoyed, but at that point, he had no reason to not let Lucien finish.
“I wanted to make sure that nothing mattered more to you than keeping your title. That’s why I had my guy who was playing Slate offer you a shit ton of money. I wanted to know if you would put your financial future and the financial future of your family ahead of defending our title.”
“First of all, it’s my title. Second of all, what would you have done if I had taken the fake check from the fake Slate?”
“You would’ve cashed out. Hell, money is no object to me. But I would’ve known that you weren’t really interested in this whole thing.”
“And what about if I hate taken the truce offer? What then?”
“That would’ve probably taken a bit more work on my end, but I would have figured it out. There’s not much that I can’t make happen. But the important thing is that you didn’t take the offers. You’re all in, Tommy, and that’s what I need from you.”
“And Eris?”
“She wouldn’t have killed you. I’ve had her working for me for thousands of years. She knows her role. You were never going to die. You proved tonight that you’re not only physically stronger than Keres, but you’re able to handle anything her and the rest of the TORN Universe throw at you. Go home and get some rest.”
Rocco made his way over to the passenger side of Tommy’s truck as Tommy got in. He couldn’t remember the last time he had looked at his cell phone. He pulled it from his pocket and saw a text from Randi.
“We’re heading back your way. Should be back home around 5 AM. Can’t handle being away from you. Not scared of Keres. You can protect me ;-)”
Tommy backed out of the parking lot of the building that now looked abandoned, and couldn’t help but think of the first time he met Lucien at the former feed store that he had turned into a sprawling office. Most people would never understand how he could sell his soul, but they didn’t matter. His family was on their way home, and he was going to destroy Keres and keep his title.
“You alright, kid? I don’t want you to hate me, but I knew we needed to ramp things up.” “Hate you? Hell no, Rocco. I’ve been to hell and back, but I think it’s just what I needed.”
