Date unknown
Being watched was not a pleasant experience, the wanderer knew. In this instance the unease was magnified tenfold for each extra pair of ghostly eyes that observed his plight. With each step forward a new soul joined the crowd that lined his path like spectators at some deathly marathon. No-one blocked his path or sought to distract him; if they did, he couldn't hear them for the sound of the bones that cracked and fell to dust beneath his feet. Those who surrounded him were of all shapes and sizes, the apparitions becoming increasingly ragged and decomposed as he continued onward. He felt the harsh gaze from the empty eye-sockets of skeletal spirits the same as from those with eyes to speak of.
The watchers' intentions were unclear. Their expressionless faces leered from beyond the murky shadows all around him, though the wanderer couldn’t be sure whether they meant to appear menacing or whether they simply wanted to attend a miniscule part of what had been a truly boundless journey thus far. Maybe they were curious about who he was, where he was going?
Can't be much further...
His legs wobbled with each step, ablaze with agony. His spine felt like a gorilla's xylophone; the wanderer marched on hunched-over in an attempt to rest his back while continuing onward, the change in position providing relief from the pain for a short time. He withheld any signs of his anguish from the crowd; for some reason he assumed that their suffering here would have been far greater than any pain he had endured.
Looking back, his own life had been a terrible one and ceased at the edge of a mere twenty-four years. His youth, supposedly a time when one should be care-free, ignorant to the evils of the world. His had been marred by violence, poverty and death from the day he was born. His adult life had been short and unimaginably unpleasant. Everything he tried to do had failed; everything that didn't involve fighting, that is. Everyone he'd ever loved was dead.
Almost.
That fiendish apparition that had approached him so many miles of this desolate world ago, Cong-Chao, was just a vile reminder of the life he'd once had; when he'd fought to survive against what felt like impossible odds. He'd killed Cong-Chao in a fight to the death before he'd even had a chance to raise his weapon. He was a savage human being, a rapist and murderer. Watching the blood spurt from this foul man's sundered throat was the first and last time the wanderer had taken pleasure in killing. He'd felt the grin crawl across his face as the crowd in the underground arena erupted in rage, their pit-hero falling to his knees at the feet of the slave he was supposed to slaughter.
Oh, the disbelief in their cries. The gurgle of screams bubbling through blood served the same purpose as the ring announcers that would announce my victories in years to come.
The wanderer snorted at the thought of comparing forced murder to professional wrestling.
Then again, that too had a part to play in the death of me.
For the first time since stepping foot in these strange lands the wanderer felt the caress of the wind flowing over his body, cooling him down. He had stripped down to the waist long ago, his torn black shirt tucked into his similarly ragged pants. The gentle breeze was refreshing but gave wings to the dust, throwing muck into the wanderer's face. He fought on through bloodshot eyes. As he squinted into the wind, a cloud of dust burst out of the fog and engulfed him entirely.
-#-
Date unknown
"Are you still here?" hissed Duriel as he grinned at the back of Daroth's head.
The rotten robe-clad skeleton glanced over his shoulder at the man in the black hat. The thought of a smile flashed across Daroth's bone face as he did so. "Of course. See how the storm has settled already?"
Sure enough, the sky before him was clearing, the colossal black clouds that had rained lightning over the seas since the night Daroth had sent the wanderer into it had now withered away and fallen to silence. Behind the dispersing clouds, the sun was rising, giving the sky a burnt red glow.
Duriel cackled. "Sated. After feasting on the soul of your 'knight'."
The other spirit said nothing. He simply folded his arms and shifted balance from one leg to the other.
"Or do you think he made it beyond the surf and saltwater?" Duriel continued. "I don't. He he."
Daroth ignored him. "How did your meeting with the assassin go?" he asked, allowing himself a chuckle of his own. "Did he believe you?"
"Of course he did!"
"Mmm. I hope so, otherwise he won't be where he's meant to be when he should... will he?"
Duriel bared his jagged teeth. "You should concern yourself with your own..." he slowed, waving a black hand in thought, "'champion', or whatever you choose to call that pathetic soul you've found."
"Indeed. I suggest you do the same," Daroth replied without turning around. The spirit at his back growled in frustration. When he looked over his shoulder, Duriel had gone.
-#-
6th May, 2010
Defeat.
A misery that was not inflicted upon Anathkash Dakari this night as he retreated from the ring area victorious. His opponent, Aaron Nothings, crumbled under the might of his determination and the streak of losses had been broken.
If only this had been the extent of his worries.
Jody Monroe almost leapt out of her seat in surprise as Dakari burst into the commentary box she was using as an impromptu office. She cursed his name despite him appearing almost as shocked as she was.
"Christ, Dakari, haven't you heard of knocking?" she moaned, rearranging the documents on the table beside her in a flustered manner.
"Sorry," he said, shuffling out of the room again.
"Where are you going?!" Jody demanded.
"Um, back to the locker rooms?"
"Why? Did you actually want something, or did you just come along to see if you could give me a heart attack?"
"No... I wanted to talk to you."
Jody held up both hands in an overdramatic shrug. "Then why are you leaving?"
Dakari's mouth opened and closed a few times as if some words were supposed to come out, though nothing did.
"Doesn't matter," the JUST boss said. "We may as well make use of this time since you've interrupted my work. I was going to call you after the show anyway."
"Oh," Dakari said flatly. "Why?"
"No, you first. Have a seat."
The only chair in the room that was anywhere near Jody was immediately beside her. Dakari dragged it a couple of feet back to accommodate what he considered to be a "respectful distance" from Jody before he sat in it. Most would assume this to be a snub on Dakari's part but Jody was getting used to his unusual behaviour and took no offense, instead smiling inwardly at how awkward the young man was around her. When he sat down he avoided eye-contact and although that was not unusual, he was clearly more agitated than usual.
"What's bothering you?" she asked.
The rookie looked like he was about to say something, then withdrew. He tried again, with more success. "I... I may need to take a leave of absence," he said, finally.
"Leave of absence? Three days before the final show of our tenth tour? I don't think so, Dakari!"
"No, no, I don't mean now, I mean after. Like, after the tour. There's some things I, erm, have to do. Family things," he prattled.
Jody said nothing at first and she could see Dakari struggling to bridge the gap by saying something but he'd run out of steam for the coal-fired communications engine in his head.
It was painful to watch Dakari squirm, even for Jody. Her face softened as she could see the toll his inner turbulence was taking. "Anathkash. That's fine. You know how Just works. I haven't even started making arrangements for our next tour yet; as far as Just Wrestling is concerned you can take all the leave of absence you need – once this tour's obligations are met. Okay?"
He nodded sheepishly.
"Good. As much as I've had my doubts about you, you've turned out to be quite popular, particularly with our die-hard fans. You know I'll call you when I need an idea of numbers for the next tour. If you're not ready by then, fine. We'll just have to see when the time comes, won't we?"
"Yeah."
"I watched your match tonight."
"You did?"
Jody watches all of the matches. Shhh. "Yeah. You seemed to be more your normal self tonight. You performed well, but I think there's still something bothering you. Or is it this 'family thing'?"
"Yeah. Um, that's what's bothering me. Nothing to worry about," he lied.
"Excellent. Was there anything else?"
"Uh, no. All good."
"Glad to hear it. Well, that's just about all I wanted to say anyway," Jody said. Her eyes met Dakari's. "Good work tonight, Anathkash. I'll see you on Sunday."
-#-
Date unknown
The huge gateway appeared suddenly, emerging from the dust as the wanderer carried on his journey, step by agonizing step. Twin giant stone doors lurked ominously up ahead as he approached. They were a lot further away than they seemed at first, though the very sight of them breathed renewed vigour into the exhausted spirit. His hair dangled in greasy strands that had tangled themselves into his beard, both thick with the dust carried on the powerful gale. Looking up through stinging eyes he halted suddenly.
He couldn't believe what he was seeing.
The door was opening.
Have I finally made it? Or is this too good to be true?
There was only one way to find out, he conceded, and broke into a run. The wanderer heard the gut-wrenching SNAP! of bones breaking and looked over his shoulder. His way back had been blocked, the watchers barring the way and coming up fast behind him, a wall of groaning corpses lumbering towards him, clambering over one another in their desperate haste.
His legs carried him as fast as the pain would allow.
Only a few dozen metres to go.
