Date unknown
The wanderer stared at the figure approaching him; his expression had hardened to one of distaste, though this could have just as easily been at the agonizing sound of crunching bones that collapsed underfoot as coming face to face with this ghost. He would have disbelieved his own eyes had his recent experiences not broadened his mental horizons, for now he was faced by the apparition of a man he'd certainly not expected to see again.
"You've been lost to us for a long time, slave," the grinning warrior said in Putonghua, arms folded across his tattooed and blood-soaked chest. The source of this stain, a tear in his throat, reminded the wanderer of the first and last time this man had crossed his path. It had been a brief meeting.
"Cong-Chao," the wanderer muttered in the same tongue. "I remember you."
"So you should. There are a few of us here, since you... disappeared... we've been gathering. Awaiting your return."
"Why?"
Cong-Chao laughed suddenly. "Why? To resume haunting you, of course. For your crimes. Make you pay."
"Don't you think you caused me enough misery while I was alive?"
"As you can see, life does not end after death, slave."
A moment of silence lingered over the two men as they watched one another, Cong-Chao beaming with malice as the traveller anticipated an outburst of aggression from him.
It never came.
"You'd best be on your way," the Chinese spirit chuckled. "Things to do."
"Indeed."
"Watch your back. We'll be around."
"And I'll be waiting for you. If you had been watching me for the past year you'd know I've destroyed beings far more powerful than you. I killed you in life; I'll kill you again in death."
The smile had faded from his old enemy's face, the expression replaced by one of disgust; the wanderer didn't see it however, for he had already started walking away. "We'll see. Good luck on your travels, slave."
-#-
3rd May, 2010
There was a small element of pleasure that Anathkash Dakari found in another day passing without seeing the furious Florien D'nesca. Whatever the contents of his letter, Mister Ravion's instructions obviously didn't require any proximity to Dakari which was a relief. Behind Florien's veil of drug abuse and criminal behaviour lurked a good heart, Dakari knew. If you sidestepped the tough guy act then he was... bearable.
Otherwise? He was an asshole.
Still, the man was gone and Dakari was not likely to see him again without Benedict Ravion to bring his two students back together. He'd certainly not be seeking him out himself, that was for sure.
Dakari found himself looking for the best in things, during these dark days. With the demise of his surrogate father came an unshakable slump in effort in all things - his wrestling career suffering the most. In retrospect, there wasn't really much in his life that required his concentration anymore. In fact, he didn't have much in his life, save for the "destiny" that Mister Ravion had described in his letter. Once that had come to pass it probably wouldn't matter anymore anyway. Blood would be shed and the end of all this could begin.
What does one do when one has spent their entire life preparing to face their destiny... then faces it?
Well that all depends on the outcome of that encounter. Whatever eventuality Fate decides to dole out will be met in due course.
For now Dakari had to continue with the day-to-day menial tasks. The anticipation was agonizing but Dakari had spent his life waiting for one moment, lurking in the shadows for his "time to shine". And shine he would, with the radiance and fury of a thousand suns his task would be complete and then...
And then...
Who knows?
The waters of the Upper Bay were unsettled, the morning sun dancing frantically on its surface. Hudson Riverdance? Powerful winds threatened to dislodge Anathkash Dakari from his perch atop the warehouse beside the Teardrop Memorial, the height enough to make even him a little edgy.
The sudden, violent vibrations from his pocket didn't do his nerves any favours. Dakari withdrew the cell from his pocket as he shuffled away from the drop.
"Hello?" he shouted over the wind.
"Jesus Christ, Dakari, are you in a wind tunnel or something?" Jody Monroe asked.
Dakari looked up to the open sky. "No."
"I can barely hear you!"
"It's windy."
"Well get into some shelter, then! I can't carry on with a conversation like this!" she complained.
Dakari flipped the hood on his jacket up and cupped his hand around the phone. "Better?"
"Slightly. What's wrong with you?" she asked suddenly.
The rookie paused, the interference from the wind made him unsure of what Jody had actually said. "What's wrong with me? Um, nothing, why? What do you mean?"
"I noticed you've not been yourself lately. I just don't want my whole touring roster having nervous breakdowns."
"T-the whole roster..?"
"Forget it. I take it you're already aware that our next show is in Jersey City."
"Er, yeah. I'm at the Teardrop Memorial."
"You-what? Ear drops?!"
"No, the Teardrop Memorial!"
"Oh. What about it?"
"I, um, wanted to, er, see it?"
"Well, why don't you?"
"I... I am."
"Good," Jody said, sounding slightly confused. "Do you need to know who your opponent is or have you managed to work out how to use a computer yet?"
Dakari said nothing.
"Didn't think so. You're facing Aaron Nothings, second to main-event - should be a real crowd pleaser," the JUST head chuckled. "Two complete delinquents in one ring, very entertaining."
"Two delinquents? What do you mean?"
"You really thought I wouldn't hear about that brawl you had in Alamosa? You and that... that lunatic you brought with you to the signing day could've caused me a major headache!" Her tone was rising with each word. "Don't make me regret my decision to keep you on board at Just Wrestling. It's a mistake that's easily undone!"
Dakari paused and scowled. He uncovered the microphone to the wind, holding the phone away from his face. "Sorry Jo--… can't hear..... say--… call you back!" he yelled, feigning interference before slamming the flip shut.
He turned off the phone and jammed it into the pocket of his black combats, frowning into the wind.
-#-
Jody Monroe took her Bluetooth headset off and threw it down on her desk, the hands-free set skittering away and falling onto the floor. Her other hand pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes closed. She took a deep breath and let her mind drift back to the last vacation she managed to take. The villa balcony; sand, sea and sangria. The warmth of Mediterranean sun caressing her face as she gazed across the beautiful seaside scenery.
She released that breath, with the holiday imagery in her mind.
Ahh.
Such frustration from one man. Well, she knew that was an overstatement, it was more like half a dozen men. Dakari, Harrison, Balboa and, recently, Johnson to name but a few of the men that had graced the Just Wrestling ring with their presence and trashed Jody's good nights' sleep with their problematic behaviour.
She felt the moment of relaxation fading away the more she thought about it. Within seconds, it was gone.
Did Dakari really think she didn't know he just hung up on her? The strange man was so distant; the only tool she had to keep him in check was the threat of losing the job he'd had to deceive her to secure. The truth was, had Jody not been abandoned at the helm of the company and left desperate for talent, she'd have turned Dakari away in an instant once the wild fabrication had been discovered. She hated liars, but he'd already proven himself an entertaining and talented individual by the time she found out. If only she'd paid more attention to the events of the west-coast-based wrestling company, The Experts. The man Dakari had pretended to be was the figurehead of The Experts, after all.
She should have known.
She wondered suddenly about one vitally important detail that hadn't occurred to her in the past – if Dakari only claimed to be trained by All-Star Wrestling in order to support his false identity... who trained him to wrestle? Not that wrestling factored in his matches very heavily, true; but he had to have learnt what he knew somewhere. But, on the other hand, how could he have been trained to wrestle but know absolutely nothing about the business at the same time?
The scruffy enigma was a curious one indeed.
Jody had been uncertain as to whether the reports of the bar fight she'd seen on the internet actually regarded Dakari. He was such a quiet man, not the wrestling type by any means; bar fights and the like were not the kind of activities she suspected he'd be involved with, but after his reaction to her accusation on the phone there was no doubt. Had formal charges been raised then disciplinary action would be unavoidable. It was well that, on this occasion, there was no proof.
Anathkash Dakari was safe in his job... for now.
