14th March, 2010
The glass was relatively unremarkable at first glance, but John Rhodes had a good eye for these things, an attention to detail he had forged from his years of experience as a detective in the Virginia police force. He was fit to burst from the moment his rubber-gloved hand closed around the snifter from the desk opposite the corpse he'd been sent to investigate. As the modest vessel was raised higher into the air, into the afternoon sunlight, the grin that had begun to take shape on Rhodes's face became broader.
"What's that?" asked Curtis, peering over his partner's shoulder.
Rhodes said nothing, simply pointing to the rim of the glass, allowing the grimy lip-mark do the talking.
"That's... You think it could be the perp's?"
"Maybe not, but it's a fuckin' good lead, Mike. Hell, it's all we've got," Rhodes sighed. "But the thing is, it isn't gonna be the vic's. So whoever's had their mouth all over this thing is gonna have some explaining to do."
"No shit," Mike Curtis grinned. "This could be our lucky break."
"Could be."
-#-
April 16th, 2010
"We need to raise your profile. This is the first show of the tour and you're headlining it. Big deal."
Anathkash Dakari said nothing in response. His eyes had fallen to the space between Jody Monroe's waist and outstretched arm as she leant against her desk; her other hand waved around with enthusiasm, reminding Dakari of a conductor guiding his orchestra through an intricate symphony.
Needless to say, the young rookie had no idea what Miss Monroe was talking about.
He chanced a glance at her face. She wasn't looking at him anyway; her eyes gazed upwards while she spoke as if longing for her dreams to be realised. Dakari didn't know what these dreams were, fame and money probably, but he knew she'd scramble over anyone else in the business to reach them, himself included.
And she wore some savage heels.
By now everyone knew what'd happened to Joe Balboa. The Brawler. His family. Some said he'd paid the price for his own stubbornness while others said he'd suffered to satisfy Jody's greed. There were some pretty big mouths backstage. Dakari had never been one for talking, but he sure knew how to listen.
Except for right now, apparently.
Jody's eyes met Dakari's for a mere instant before the scruffy man hastily looked away, scratching his beard as a distraction. "What did I just say?" she demanded.
Shit. "Uh, you were saying that, um, the... profile? Raising it?" he ventured feebly.
She nodded slowly. "That's absolutely right... or at least it would be if this was ten minutes ago!" she fumed.
Again Dakari remained silent, now rubbing his chin through his unruly facial hair. A grimace flashed across Jody's face as she watched him, desperately avoiding making eye contact with her as if his life depended on it.
The JUST boss straightened up, tugging the creases from the front of her blouse. "Oh, another thing – that awful beard must go. And would it kill you to at least wash your hair? I'm having some bedraggled tramp tarnish the image of this company," she griped, moving around her desk to sit in front of her computer. "You look like a hobo. Don't make me start billing you as such."
Dakari frowned and nodded.
"If you think you're going to be a main event superstar you'd better look the part, don't you think?"
Another nod.
"Good. You have more adoring fans to meet. Fans of JUST, maybe, but you'll do."
-#-
Date Unknown
Daroth watched as the young man marched into the water. He didn't slow with the storm-driven tide that surged around him, nor could the freezing cold gale that assaulted him from all directions hinder his movement, it seemed. It was not long before the Crusader of Shadow's head disappeared beneath the surface.
Gone... but not for good.
With that thought in mind, Daroth turned around and walked away from the stony beach to ponder the events to come. Underfoot, rocks and gravel crunched; the clapping of the skeletal apparition's shredded clothes slowly died out as he came to the small ridge separating the sand from the tree line of the vast forest.
A final glance over his bony shoulder, a habitual sigh escaping imaginary lips. The Crusader would fare well, he thought. Much depended on it, or so it was written. Turning to once more face the way ahead, Daroth was not surprised to see a familiar figure waiting for his attention.
"I see you send your knight to his demise," the black-clad figure chuckled, grinning wildly beneath his hat. The jagged teeth disappeared as the expression turned to a bitter snarl. "You'd do well to remember that he's just a pawn on horseback, Daroth. He he."
"As much as I enjoy our encounters, Duriel, I feel that your gloating is somewhat akin to counting your chickens before they're hatched."
The newcomer nodded. "I knew you'd think so. My success will be all the sweeter then! The Crusader of Shadow will perish in the Maelstrom of Souls, the Broken One will die before he even gets the chance to face the Betrayer and your efforts will be for nothing. You have risked too much this time, Daroth. Your knight will not survive."
"You are a visionary for optimism as ever, Duriel. What makes you think the Crusader will be defeated?"
"Only once before has anyone made it through the Maelstrom. This mortal of yours stands no chance."
"This 'mortal of mine' is driven by a sense of duty and honour, a more substantial force than that of hate and anger," Daroth explained, watching his fellow spirit continue to beam menacingly. "I should know; it worked for his father, if you recall. The apple does not fall far from the tree with these matters, you know that. Even if he is so dissimilar to his brother."
Duriel grunted. "He will be succumb to his fate, mark my words."
"We shall see."
-#-
19th April, 2010
Although he was not getting used to how desperately unpleasant these meet and greet sessions were, Anathkash Dakari found it reassuring that he had so many supporters in Just Wrestling's fanbase. There was a pile of photographs of himself at his side with varying themes. He'd flicked through them while waiting for the sports store's doors to open; there was one of him mid-somersault, about to land Metamorphosis on Impulse. Another was of him standing on a JUST ring's turnbuckle, ready to fly; while another picture showed him standing next to the towering Grendel, shortly after they'd defeated Frank Dylan James and Cameron Cruise. It was an excellent picture, considering it'd been taken candidly. He'd almost forgotten how monstrous his tag-partner had been, and how close they'd come to winning the Lethal Lottery tournament.
There was always next year.
It occurred to him as the last of the JUST fans made their way out of the store exactly how much the tables had turned. His standing with both Jody Monroe and JUST swung from a reluctant and suspicious acceptance of his employment, shifting to title shots, merchandise signings and meet and greets representing the brand. His next match was important. Skylar Montgomery needed his third victory to achieve his own title shot, but that wasn't why this match was important to JUST. Jody had voiced her intentions of making something of a spectacle of Tour X's first main event.
Skylar Montgomery, a wrestler with more losses under his belt than Dakari had matches. So far he was riding on the crest of his longest winning streak in his JUST career – 2; while Dakari's own had ended at three, courtesy of John Johnson. Could The Imaginary Man snatch a victory from Dakari? Or will the methodical martial artist send the argumentative lunatic packing?
Whatever the hype, whatever the claims made on the JUST website, Dakari had no intentions of losing to Montgomery. Another three wins were what he needed to face Johnson again, and the first of those would come tomorrow.
He rubbed his palm across the stubble on his face. His bald face felt... weird. In fact, so did the rest of him. He hadn't seen or heard from Mister Nihilus in some time now, but that alone wasn't cause for concern. It was only a matter of time now before the Betrayer would unexpectedly emerge from the shadows to put an end to him. Dakari wished it would happen sooner rather than later. There was revenge to be had, and the longer he had to wait for it the more intense that desire became.
All around him JUST and Colorado Sports staff rushed around to clear up the promotional material that surrounded Dakari; the cardboard cut-out of himself that had loomed over him for the past couple of hours was finally removed, relieving Dakari to no end. He watched his likeness as it was carried away under someone's arm, the image of himself disappearing feet-first through the store's entrance made him smile.
At least, until someone snatched the table he was sitting at from under him, then he frowned.
A hand landed on Dakari's shoulder and he almost leapt out of his folding metal seat. It was Jody.
"See? Now that you're clean I can touch you without fear of catching anything," she said, though Dakari couldn't tell if she was joking or not. "You might notice that we're clearing up here, you should probably leave. You have a busy day tomorrow!"
"I do?" he asked, standing up. His chair was whipped away as soon as his weight was removed from it.
"Of course! Don't make the mistake of underestimating Skylar Montgomery. Maus and Edmunds did, and it cost them both," explained the JUST boss, casually adding: "Plus, the Elite Championship contenders' match is tomorrow too. You're double-booked."
"Double-booked?!"
"I did mention this to you earlier."
Dakari didn't remember this. "So I have to face Skylar Montgomery after fighting another four guys?"
"Not just any four - you've got John Johnson and James Varga to face!"
"How is that supposed to make me feel better!?"
"It's not, I just thought you should know." Discussion over. "There's nothing left for you to do here, you may as well leave," Jody said, walking away.
Anathkash Dakari was dumbfounded by the brief exchange. He was pretty sure that he'd just been told he was double-booked, with a match against the Just Wrestling Champion and another against the Just Wrestling Underdog in the same night. His concerns had been beautifully side-stepped by the JUST boss and he wasn't sure how she'd done it. It appeared that she had also managed to escape the building before he realised, thus avoiding any chance of another confrontation.
Now the young man stood with the goings-on of a store shutting down for the night all around him; his fans had left and his chair had been swiped from beneath him. All that was left was to nonchalantly sidle towards the door and leave, only it looked like departing quietly was going to be impossible.
At the door a hooded man was arguing with the burly security guard. Dakari couldn't make out the man's face, but he was no size compared to the guard.
"He's just there! I need to give him this!" the hooded man argued.
"Sorry sir," the guard drawled, "store's closed. Try at Plachy Hall tomorrow."
"No! I don't need his damn signature or anything, I need to give him this!"
"No. Store's closed. Please leave."
The guard began to push he door shut but the smaller man kicked it to smash into his face. The guard staggered back, the other employees frozen in place as the intruder walked in and dropped the big man with a roundhouse kick to the side of the head. He turned his attention to Dakari, a wicked grin forming beneath the black cloth hood. Dakari's knives were already in his hands as the man calmly walked towards him, pushing his hood back from his head.
The blades disappeared.
"Florien?"
