Post by MERCENARY on Apr 29, 2021 4:49:50 GMT -6
Her dark hair hung loose about her shoulders. As she shook her head wildly to the music the ink black tresses writhed and struck like mad Medusa’s serpentine locks. Her parchment pale skin shone in the strobe from the stage lights, her eyes flashing and flickering like a living flame. She looked like a ghost, the wispy specter of a gothic beauty come straight from a painting inspired by the poet’s pen of Poe. He sat up in his seat, unable to look away as she turned her slender body to grind against Leather who took her by the waist, kissing and nibbling at her neck and shoulder like a voracious vampire on a blood binge.
And the music played on as the bacchanalia reached a fevered pitch and the countdown to the New Year began and ended with balloons and a brand new beginning. By then Leather and her magnificent mystery were latched at the lips, kissing like each feared the other might turn into a pumpkin at that final stroke and they might lose the chance to consume one another like the world itself depended on their desire. As the couples in the crowd fell into each other for a slow dance the pair made their way to the periphery, headed towards the private back stairs which led up to the fourth floor where Leather’s bed waited in her private quarters to be the scene of a much more intimate sort of dance. Mercenary watched them go, sighing deeply and a bit sadly, feeling slightly jealous. Leather disappeared into the darkness beyond the door, but her partner paused for a moment, looking back over her shoulder and directly his way. Her eyes found his and the look sent a shock through his system. She smiled a bewitching and slightly wicked smile, holding him in her gaze for a lengthy moment that left him feeling a little bit like an animal trapped in the blue-white glare of headlights in the night.
And then the look was abruptly broken and she was gone, pulled through the door by Leather’s eager hand, leaving Merc sitting in silence with the memory of those eyes and that smile long after the club had closed and the crowd had gone out into the January night.
He sat alone in the quiet of the third floor V.I.P. lounge. A few guests lingered in the corners of the room, sipping champagne and speaking in quiet romantic whispers. Mike had liberated a bottle of top shelf whiskey from behind the bar and was seated next to a window where he stared down at the street but saw nothing but the shadow of a smile and a pair of burning eyes that burrowed into him leaving an ache in both his heart and his guts. His head was pleasantly numb… maybe a little too numb at this point in the early hours just before the blue-black pre-dawn light heralds the coming of the sun. He was starting to think seriously about some sleep. But he was a little worried what his dreams might bring. He took a final draw on the dregs of his bottle and started to prepare himself for the climb down the back stairs to the courtyard where his bed awaited in his rolling home parked in its regular spot. He rubbed his eyes and stretched to regain some feeling in his legs and was about to get up when he noticed a slim shadow watching him from across the room. For a minute he thought she was a drunken illusion- a cruel trick of his intoxicated brain. But as she watched she crossed the room, becoming more and more real the closer she came. She was dressed in a pair of tight black leggings and a black silk robe that he recognized as a gift he’d given Leather for her birthday two years ago. She floated across the floor, coming to rest on the cushioned loveseat across from where he sat still staring at her. Again holding his gaze she reached over and took the liquor from his hand, draining the remaining spirits without bothering to wipe the bottle clean of his saliva. She licked the taste of it from her lips and sat back into the deep comfort of the cushions. When she spoke it broke the silence with a start.
Dalilah: “I know You. I know YOU. I do. I DO. You’re The Mercenary. Mercenary. The man. The myth. Mister Old-School Outlaw his-self. You know I’m a big fan of yours. I even had your poster on the wall above my bed. I used to look at you every night before I fell asleep.”
She leaned forward and lowered her voice, purring her next words softly in his ear.
Dalilah: “Don’t tell anybody. I’m a little embarrassed to tell you… but… I had a little girly crush on you back when I was young.”
He chuckled despite himself, not able to hold it back.
Merc: “When you were young. What exactly are you now? How long ago was this, about six months? How old are you anyway? I feel like I should ask to see your I.D.”
Dalilah: “Well I’d have to go back upstairs to get it. I left it in my jeans and their in Leather’s room, and I don’t want to wake her up. When I came down she was smiling and sleeping like a baby kitten.”
Merc shifted uncomfortably in his seat. For once in his life he couldn’t think of anything to say. He stared off into the room in an awkward silence. She seemed to find that very funny and she giggled at him.
Dalilah: “Oh don’t be so serious. I’m old enough to know better, and I’m old enough to know what I want. And I came here tonight with one goal in mind.” She put her hand on his arm. His body stiffened slightly at her touch. She smiled mischievously at the reaction. “I came here because I wanted to meet someone… I wanted to meet you.”
Mercenary looked at her with a serious expression. Up close he saw her clearly for the first time. She was more beautiful than his mind had imagined her to be. He could feel her energy irradiating him like the blast from a dirty bomb. He could feel his heart trying to break the cage of his sternum. His head buzzed now from more than the booze and the coil of his intestines twisted like a ball of mating vipers. He pulled away from her, stumbling slightly as he tried to stand up, a rush of blood to the brain making his head spin.
Merc: “Yeah… um… I think I should go lie down. Really nice to meet ya though. But I think I’m gonna go now…”
She stood up quick and pulled him to her to steady him. They stood close to each other for a very long pause. She stared up at him with a strange intensity that caused him to look away. Then without warning she pushed up on her toes to kiss him. He turned away from the attempt, overwhelmed with a strong feeling of guilt.
Merc: “Look… I don’t think…” He gently pushed her away from him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’re really pretty but… I mean… You’re with Leather… I can’t do that to her… it’s not good… it’s just not right.”
Her smile this time was almost maternal, which seemed strange in one so young. She gently took his hand and stroked his arm, moving closer to him, but not as close as before.
Dalilah: “You’re such a good guy aren’t you? So sweet. But I’m not with Anyone. I like Leather. She’s a sexy chick and we had a good night together. But she’s not why I came here tonight. I told ya, I came here looking for You, and here you are. I know what I want Michael. I know it… and I take it. Life’s way too damn short to live any other way.”
She broke contact with him and walked backwards towards the door.
Dalilah: “Think about that daddy. Take a chance. You don’t always have to be the good guy. Sometimes… you have to do what’s best for You. Nighty-night… Mister Mercenary.” With a flourish she turned to leave, but she turned one more time to smile at him (and this time there was nothing in the look but naked seduction.) “And if you were wondering, my name’s Dalilah… Dalilah Ashe.”
*****
The music played loud and the crowd moved to answer its demand. Michael sat in his regular seat at the back of the club, far enough removed from the action that he felt comfortable thinking he was a part of it. Dalilah was dressed in a school girl skirt and leather coat, and she was draped across his lap like a security blanket, sipping a scotch and soda, and moving suggestively to the rhythm and the beat. In that moment, for him, the whole world was made up of her: The sight of her black and white beauty. The smell of her perfume and the sweat and skin underneath. The feel of her friction and the warmth of her form. There was nothing else in the world but this woman. He couldn’t see anything else… and he couldn’t see it coming.
Leather stood in front of them, back-lit by the bar, the look on her face all hurt and confusion. Mike blinked when he saw her, the spell of the moment broken by the strange sight of a serious Leather Cordowan. He had become accustomed to the carefree woman that he admired so much for her lack of concern (a trait he had also discovered in Dalilah and was another thing he had come to like about her.) But this girl was serious… and seriously pissed off. It was Dalilah who broke the silence, giggling slightly as she spoke.
Dalilah: “BABY. There you are! I’ve been looking for you ALL DAY.” She reached out to her, trying to hold her hand. Leather slipped her grip, pulling roughly away from her.
Leather: “What is this? What are you doing… Michael?”
Mercenary looked confused, slow to understand the scenario. It was again Dalilah who answered.
Dalilah: “C’mon now babe. It’s not a big deal. We’re just… being friendly. There’s nothing wrong with making new friends is there? We can be friends can’t we? We can ALL be friends. With each other.” She smiled a flirtatious little grin and reached back to caress Mercer’s cheek. He flinched away from the contact and the reaction it brought to Leather’s features.
Leather: “Can I talk to you for a minute? D? I really need to talk to you for a minute? Right. Now.”
Dalilah sighed dramatically and hopped off of Mike’s lap, following Leather into a small seating area behind a privacy curtain. The muffled sound of their raised voices reached him and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair, taking a long gulp of strong, dark, liquor from a glass on the table next to him. He was overcome with a sudden infection of nerves and had to stand up to clear his head. A hand on his shoulder caused him to turn. Thorn’s expression made the hair on his neck stand up and for a second he felt like he was about to get hit.
Thorn: “What the fuck are you doing here bro? What the hell are you thinking about? Have you finally gone brain-dead from too many shots to the head?”
Merc was confused: “What the hell are you talkin’ about? What? Done what?”
Thorn: “That Dalilah chick bro. What? What do ya mean ‘what’? You’re up here messin’ around with Leather’s frickin’ girlfriend man! Are you kidding me? Are you so blinded by the prospect of barely legal ass that you can’t see what’s going on here?
Girlfriend? The phrase resounded in his head. Leather’s Girlfriend. He felt off balance and sick inside.
Merc: “Dalilah’s not Leather’s girlfriend. She said they were just hanging out. She said they were just having fun. Their not… DATING each other man. That’s just not right.”
Thorn: “Oh ‘SHE said.’ SHE told you that. SHE did. What did Leather say brother? What did your friend tell you about what they were to each other? Did you even ask her? Did you even ask the girl that’s as close to you as family? The girl that freakin’ loves you in every way one person can possibly love another person. You never did, did ya? Leather cares about that dumb little trick man, and you - YOU, of anyone else in the world - have been messing around with her. That’s just fucked up.”
The sick feeling in Mike’s stomach was turning into anger. He felt like he’d been back-jumped, taken off his guard, and beaten down like a punk. He didn’t like the feeling, and he didn’t like being accused.
Merc: “Why don’t you just back the fuck on up man. Seriously, take a damn step back! Don’t act like I’ve done something terrible just because I’ve finally, after failure after failure, found somebody who actually likes me for Me. She doesn’t want me to change myself. She doesn’t criticize me for feeling the way I feel. ‘You’re too intense Michael.’ ‘You’re too moody Michael.’ ‘Mike, why do you alway seem like you’re somewhere else when we’re together?’ I’ve finally found a woman who accepts me for who I am, without apology, and you want to make me feel bad for feeling good for a change? Get the hell outta her man! I’m sorry if some puppy love was put to sleep in the process of me finding a little joy in this world that I mostly all the time hate, but sometimes you just have to look after yourself. I mean it’s not like anyone else will.”
Thorn: “What is that shit supposed to mean? Leather looks at you like family. And Shade… I mean shit man, how can you say that kinda stuff to ME? My wife is basically in love with you because of all your dark and brooding bullshit, and I just let it slide because I trust her… AND I trust YOU! I stuck by you when everybody else took a powder. When the stable broke up… when the partners went away… when the girlfriends left you layin’... who the hell was there for you then? I mean damn it, you put me through a glass table in a match… put me on the shelf for six freakin’ months… and I never held it against you… not once! But NOBODY has ever been there for you before this trampy little goth freak who is clearly messing with your head. Total BS man. Total. I mean where are you right now? Where did my brother go?”
Merc: “I went where family always goes ‘brother’. I went my own way. And if you can’t handle that, maybe all the rest of you should do the same.”
Thorn had nothing more to say. He stared at him, a mix of anger and disappointment on his face. He shook his head and chuckled with no humor before raising his open hands, palms out, in a sign of surrender. He backed away a few steps before turning on his heel and stalking off into the club, the crowd swallowing him whole as if he had never even existed at all.
Mike didn’t watch him go. Instead he went and threw aside the curtain to find the space no longer occupied. Leather and Dalilah both had gone. Despite the anger burning behind his eyes the guilt was returning as the indignant fury dissipated. He needed to talk to Leather. He needed to know the truth of things. Climbing the back stairs to Leather’s private rooms he tried to think of what to say to her. In the whirlwind of Dalilah’s attention he had never thought to ask Leather about how she felt about it. Coming to the door at the end of the hall he knocked gently and called her name, and then again a little louder when no one answered. When he knocked a third time the door swung open slightly revealing the dark room on the other side, lit only by the moonlight through the far wall of factory windows. Calling out to her again, he went in, switching on a lamp fixture on the wall by the door. The room was empty… completely empty. The drawers. The closet. The medicine cabinet. All empty. Her clothes were gone. Her toothbrush was gone. In fact the only thing that remained was a picture in a frame hanging beside the bed. It was a picture of Leather and Michael: Her head resting comfortable on his shoulder, both of them looking happy and contented. He remembered the day it was taken. He felt a lump in his massive throat. A voice from behind him brought his mind back to the empty room.
NightShade: “She’s gone Miklosh. She left about an hour ago. She said she needed some space to think. She seemed… sad.”
Merc: “I didn’t know Shade. I didn’t know she was that serious. I just didn’t see it.”
Shade: “Seems like you’ve been missing a lot lately. Seems like you can only see what that girl is showing you. And I’m not so sure that’s a good thing. She’s not good for you Mikael.”
Merc sighed and frowned, clenching his fists and teeth: “So now you’re going to judge me. Everybody wants to judge me. Everybody wants to tell me what’s wrong with me. My whole life I have spent taking care of other people… worrying about other people. The whole time I beat myself up. I tried to take care of my Mom. I payed to take care of a guy I hated just because I blamed myself for him getting hurt in a damn match. The whole time I listen to everyone else’s advice and wonder what the hell is wrong with me. But SHE sees me. She sees the good and the bad and the worse. She sees it all and she doesn’t care. It feels okay to be myself around her. I don’t have to front for her. I don’t have to hide from her. I don’t know what she was to Leather, but I know what she means to me. I didn’t want to hurt anybody, but I’m just so damn tired of having to worry about everyone else but myself. I need someone like her. I’ve needed her for a long damn time. I feel like she’s what I’ve been missing. With her I feel… real inside.”
NightShade smiled with sad eyes. She took Mercenary’s hand and brought it to her lips, kissing the palm gently and holding it to her cheek. Mike didn’t know how to react. He was stunned to silence.
Shade: “David and I are leaving tomorrow morning Michael. We’re going to New York for awhile. We feel like you need some time to figure things out. But I hope you know, that if you need us, we’re just a phone call or text away. We love you Mike. You’re the only family we have left. But we have to go for awhile. I hope you understand.”
Mike felt like yelling. He felt like she’d kicked him in the gut. His air was gone. When he finally answered her, it was barely above a whisper:
Merc: “Yeah. I do understand. You’re family… and family always leaves.”
There were tears in NightShade’s eyes when she let loose of his hand and slowly left the room. Mike sat down on the bed staring at nothing. He sat there for a very long time. He sat there until the first rays of the sun shone through the window glass. He sat there as the shadows stretched across the floor. When he heard the door to the garage open at street level he stiffly got up and went over to the window that overlooked the back of the building. He watched as a hearse black car drove from the heart of the building, the creaking closed behind it. He could see them through the windshield - Thorn and NightShade… Dave and Darcy - two of the only people in the world that knew him well enough to say they knew him at all. He watched the car drive down the block and turn left at the light headed for the highway. He felt her there before she touched him. Dalilah pressed her face to his back and planted a small kiss. She massaged his shoulders with both hands. She whispered her words:
Dalilah: “I know. I know baby. I know it hurts you. You thought they knew you. You thought they were your family. And they were your family. They are your family. You love them. But love can make you weak if you spread it too thin. I know you have history with them, but history tends to fade when matters of the heart are involved. You don’t need them anymore Michael. They don’t know you. They don’t understand you. Not like I do. Not like I always will. You have me now, and I am going to help you become who you were always meant to be. You don’t need them to make your heart happy because I’m your heart now. I’m you soul. I’m everything you need.”
She kissed his shoulder and rested her head there in a haunting reflection of the picture on the wall. They stood there together watching the empty street.
“I love you.” he whispered.
“I know.” she replied with a satisfied smile.
*****
Post Match: FSW Uprising #14
Mercenary slams the door to the locker room behind him, nearly missing hitting Dalilah square in the face. He limps and rages across the room ramming his fist into the door of several of the lockers along the row. The last one he hits caves inward with a large dent. Turning his back on the lockers he slams the back of his head against the hard steel and slides down to a crouch, his fury abated, now seething and silent. Dalilah, who has kept her distance from his anger, now comes to him. She kneels down in front of him, taking his face gently in her hands. His breathing calms at her touch. He stares away from her vacantly, his face twisted with a mix of disappointment and pain.
Mercenary: “I quit. I fucking quit! How the hell…?”
Dalilah draws his face against her smooth stomach and caresses the back of his sweat soaked hair. He breathes in and sighs heavy and ragged as he reaches up to hold on to her waist.
Dalilah: “Baby, look at me.” He raises his eyes upward to meet her stare. “You didn’t quit. You chose to survive. You did what you had to do to keep from getting injured. Cowards quit, but brave men choose to fight another day. That’s what you did. That’s All you did.”
He pushes gently away from her and rises slowly to his feet. She steps ups to kiss his cheek and he accepts her attentions, though he is obviously still holding on to the result of the match. They pack their bags in silence and head out a side door headed for the parking lot. Though it is hours since the show has ended there are still small groups of fans hanging around outside looking for autographs. Michael and Dalilah give them a wide berth, in no mood for fan interaction on this night. A group of four young rowdies spot them from across the lot. They are talking and laughing amongst themselves, pointing in their direction. As The Mercenary gets closer to them the largest of their number starts to shout drunkenly at him.
Fan: “Hey Mercenary. MERCENAAARY! Mercenary, you fuckin’ bitch-boy. You tapped out. You tapped out.”
The chant is taken up by the fan’s companions: “YOU TAPPED OUT! YOU TAPPED OUT!”
Mercenary’s face goes to granite with fire burning behind his eyes. He turns to face the crowd, but before he can react Dalilah charges towards them in a rage of her own.
Dalilah: “And who the fuck are you!?! What have you ever done!?! You would piss your damn pants if you ever found yourself in a real fight! Just shut your stupid fucking mouths! Just shut the hell up!”
The man who started the chant laughed, which caused his companions to also chortle at the angry woman who was just over half his size. Their laughter struck a nerve in Dalilah and she flew at the man, slapping and clawing and his face. The whole cluster was taken off guard by the assault as one of the ring leaders friends tried to pull Dalilah off of him. But that was all that it took. The second his hand grasped Dalilah’s arm Michael saw blood red and his mind went haywire. Mercenary bowled into the group of men, getting one by the throat and another by the beard at his jaw. He threw one man halfway across the parking lot and slammed another hard against a concrete column. A third man tried to stop him, not really fighting back, just trying to talk sense to the enraged wrestler. He was kicked in the gut for the effort. The fan who had spoken first suffered the most. Dalilah stepped away from him so that he could watch what was happening to his friends. When Mercenary turned in his direction he tried to back away, but Dalilah blocked his path allowing Mercer to grab him by his shirt and punch him to the ground where he kicked him while he was down. Dalilah berated the man, who lay in the fetal position trying to protect his face and head from the toe strikes of black motorcycle boots.
Dalilah: “Who’s the bitch boy now bitch? Who’s the bitch now!?! Tap out bitch! TAP OUT!”
It was only the involvement of EWC event staff and security that saved the men from a more brutal beating. It took about four of them to pull Mercenary off the fallen fan with two more necessary to drag Dalilah away. They were quickly ushered to a car and removed from the arena while FSW office agents tried to smooth everything over with the shocked and shaken fans.
*****
Lazarus: Ladies and losers, I would like to present to you a list of 100 reasons why Robbie Rayder is a nobody who doesn't deserve to share my spotlight...
Watson: Draco Lazarus, the phrase "self-satisfied" doesn’t quite cut it.
Sydney: He’s always been a humble sort of guy, that’s for sure.
Draco flipped open the cover sheet and lifted the microphone to further honor them with his genius, but before he could continue he was interrupted by the sound of amplified applause. A slow and sinister clapping resounded over the arena. It sounded like an axe hacking at the trunk of a hollow tree. From the stage The Mercenary glared down the ramp at the ring. Stopping his ovation with a sarcastic flourish he raised a microphone of his own.
Mercenary: Draco. Draco. DRACO! My man! What can I say about your master plan last week. I’m sayin’, Work of genius! The way you played everyone in The Chainbreaker match against one another until You and your unwitting partner Robbie Rayder were the last team standing. I mean you had everyone running around like little puppets dancing for your delight. And while your opponents were kept busy doing dirty deeds on each other before the match even started, you just sat back and played date night with The Champ Melody Malone.
In the ring- chuckling the whole time- Draco gave an exaggerated shrug with a "who me?" expression and a wide grin.
Mercenary: Yeah, that’s right. And I’m sure she was just sooo impressed by how you played a game on everybody. You kept all eyes looking everywhere else but at you, and in the end you swept in and reaped the rewards of all that chaos. It really was very well done.
Draco smirked and shook his head.
Lazarus: And what exactly is your point big guy? I mean you’re not telling me anything that I haven’t already said myself, and with a much more compelling narrative. I don’t know what you’re so pissed off about anyway. At least you got something out of the whole deal. That’s more than some of those suckers got. I mean you did get the cash I gave your girl right? For services rendered? Paid in full.
Sydney: I knew it. Draco hired himself a hitman. I knew some cold hard cash must have exchanged hands last week to put all those pieces in play.
Watson: And it looks like The Mercenary is a man who lives up to the monicker. He’s nothing more than muscle for hire. That’s actually kind of a disappointment.
Sydney: But not a shock Tim. Not a shock at all.
The crowd boos loudly at this revelation and The Mercenary looks annoyed.
Mercenary: MY girl was acting in what she thought was our best interest. She got into bed with you…
Draco laughs out loud.
Lazarus: Yeah. "Gettin’ in bed" with people seems to be what that chick does a lot.
Mercenary scowled deeply at the interruption and the implication.
Mercenary: SHE made the deal with you without consulting me first, but we still did your dirty work. We let ourselves be distracted and our lack of focus cost us a shot at the TV title, an opportunity that You went on to claim for yourself.
Lazarus: And I still fail to see your point. You got your money. I got my title shot. As far as I’m concerned that concludes our business big boy. We are done, and I’m moving on to get myself some gold. End of story.
Mercenary: It is that? It is the end of that story. But I just thought I would add a little epilogue to your tale of victory. I thought you might want to know where all that money went.
Draco shook his head and shrugged again, mugging confusion and exasperation for the crowd.
Lazarus: I don’t know man. I just assumed you spent it all on leather jackets and a crate full of fishnet stockings and black lipstick for your lady friend. I don’t really give a moist wet handful of crap what you did with it. Now you’re just wasting my time here. Get to the point. Are you looking for another job or something, because I’m all through hiring goons for the time being.
Mercenary: No Draco. I’m not looking for a job. In point of fact, Dalilah has already invested your money by creating a few jobs of her own.
From behind Draco two huge figures, each dressed completely in black, jump the railing and slide into the ring. Each man is wearing a black bandanna over their face bandito style. Draco half turns in time to get a boot square in the gut. He doubles over and the other man kicks him in the side of the head. Draco drops the microphone and falls down dazed. The two men put the boots to him as the crowd goes crazy with confusion.
Sydney: What in the world is this about?
Watson: Two guys from the crowd are stomping Draco Lazarus in the middle of the ring.
Sydney: Where the hell is the security. Can we get some help out here please?
One of the men, a large bald man, picks Draco up by the legs, holding him in the wheelbarrow position while his long haired companion climbs to the top turnbuckle. He pauses for a second to gain his balance before dropping a vicious guillotine leg drop on the back of Draco’s neck. On the stage Mercenary has been joined by Dalilah Ashe who cackles with pleasure at the damage being done in the ring. The pair walk to the ring to join the two assailants where they stand over Draco, who is holding his neck and trying to regain his orientation. Mercenary sticks the toe of his motorcycle boot under Lazarus's chin, lifting his face so that he is forced to look up at Dalilah. He kicks Draco over onto his back. Dalilah straddles him seductively and squats to sit on his chest. She screams and laughs like a maniac before striking and slapping him several times in the face. She then reaches into her pants and pulls out a crumpled hundred dollar bill. She un-wads the bill and rubs it in his face before stuffing the money into Draco’s mouth causing him to choke and spit.
Sydney: Oh no. She’s giving him the Million Dollar treatment.
Watson: And who knows where that filthy bill has been. This is terrible Cid.
Dalilah stands and takes the microphone from The Mercenary.
Ashe: I told you Draco. I told you that it would not be a good idea not to be our friend. And the way you tried to play ME and My Man. THAT was NOT VERY FRIENDLY of you. But I hope that you are happy that your money was put to good use. After all, I took a cue from you and bought some allies of my own.
To the left and right of Draco the two men pull down their masks. When Mercenary sees their faces revealed he does not wear a happy expression.
Sydney: If I’m not mistaken Tim that looks to be Malice. The last time we saw him in an EWC ring he was getting his ass handed to him week after week over on Rampage.
Watson: It’s been a long time since we’ve seen him on EWC TV but it looks like he’s returned with a little back up this time.
Sydney: I wouldn’t exactly call either of these guys "little" Tim, but what the hell is their association with Dalilah Ashe and The Mercenary?
Mercenary drops out of the ring and heads to the back. Dalilah watches him go with a slight hint of concern, laughing almost nervously before she shouts at the crowd and leaves the ring herself, flanked by her hired hit squad. In the ring Draco has pulled himself up on the middle rope. He is coughing and is as confused as the crowd, who are growing restless and getting loud.
Watson: Well Cid, I guess we won’t be getting any answers this week, but I have to say that Draco will most likely be thinking a little harder about who is does business with in the future.
Sydney: To be sure Tim. That woman is missing more than a few screws.
And the music played on as the bacchanalia reached a fevered pitch and the countdown to the New Year began and ended with balloons and a brand new beginning. By then Leather and her magnificent mystery were latched at the lips, kissing like each feared the other might turn into a pumpkin at that final stroke and they might lose the chance to consume one another like the world itself depended on their desire. As the couples in the crowd fell into each other for a slow dance the pair made their way to the periphery, headed towards the private back stairs which led up to the fourth floor where Leather’s bed waited in her private quarters to be the scene of a much more intimate sort of dance. Mercenary watched them go, sighing deeply and a bit sadly, feeling slightly jealous. Leather disappeared into the darkness beyond the door, but her partner paused for a moment, looking back over her shoulder and directly his way. Her eyes found his and the look sent a shock through his system. She smiled a bewitching and slightly wicked smile, holding him in her gaze for a lengthy moment that left him feeling a little bit like an animal trapped in the blue-white glare of headlights in the night.
And then the look was abruptly broken and she was gone, pulled through the door by Leather’s eager hand, leaving Merc sitting in silence with the memory of those eyes and that smile long after the club had closed and the crowd had gone out into the January night.
He sat alone in the quiet of the third floor V.I.P. lounge. A few guests lingered in the corners of the room, sipping champagne and speaking in quiet romantic whispers. Mike had liberated a bottle of top shelf whiskey from behind the bar and was seated next to a window where he stared down at the street but saw nothing but the shadow of a smile and a pair of burning eyes that burrowed into him leaving an ache in both his heart and his guts. His head was pleasantly numb… maybe a little too numb at this point in the early hours just before the blue-black pre-dawn light heralds the coming of the sun. He was starting to think seriously about some sleep. But he was a little worried what his dreams might bring. He took a final draw on the dregs of his bottle and started to prepare himself for the climb down the back stairs to the courtyard where his bed awaited in his rolling home parked in its regular spot. He rubbed his eyes and stretched to regain some feeling in his legs and was about to get up when he noticed a slim shadow watching him from across the room. For a minute he thought she was a drunken illusion- a cruel trick of his intoxicated brain. But as she watched she crossed the room, becoming more and more real the closer she came. She was dressed in a pair of tight black leggings and a black silk robe that he recognized as a gift he’d given Leather for her birthday two years ago. She floated across the floor, coming to rest on the cushioned loveseat across from where he sat still staring at her. Again holding his gaze she reached over and took the liquor from his hand, draining the remaining spirits without bothering to wipe the bottle clean of his saliva. She licked the taste of it from her lips and sat back into the deep comfort of the cushions. When she spoke it broke the silence with a start.
Dalilah: “I know You. I know YOU. I do. I DO. You’re The Mercenary. Mercenary. The man. The myth. Mister Old-School Outlaw his-self. You know I’m a big fan of yours. I even had your poster on the wall above my bed. I used to look at you every night before I fell asleep.”
She leaned forward and lowered her voice, purring her next words softly in his ear.
Dalilah: “Don’t tell anybody. I’m a little embarrassed to tell you… but… I had a little girly crush on you back when I was young.”
He chuckled despite himself, not able to hold it back.
Merc: “When you were young. What exactly are you now? How long ago was this, about six months? How old are you anyway? I feel like I should ask to see your I.D.”
Dalilah: “Well I’d have to go back upstairs to get it. I left it in my jeans and their in Leather’s room, and I don’t want to wake her up. When I came down she was smiling and sleeping like a baby kitten.”
Merc shifted uncomfortably in his seat. For once in his life he couldn’t think of anything to say. He stared off into the room in an awkward silence. She seemed to find that very funny and she giggled at him.
Dalilah: “Oh don’t be so serious. I’m old enough to know better, and I’m old enough to know what I want. And I came here tonight with one goal in mind.” She put her hand on his arm. His body stiffened slightly at her touch. She smiled mischievously at the reaction. “I came here because I wanted to meet someone… I wanted to meet you.”
Mercenary looked at her with a serious expression. Up close he saw her clearly for the first time. She was more beautiful than his mind had imagined her to be. He could feel her energy irradiating him like the blast from a dirty bomb. He could feel his heart trying to break the cage of his sternum. His head buzzed now from more than the booze and the coil of his intestines twisted like a ball of mating vipers. He pulled away from her, stumbling slightly as he tried to stand up, a rush of blood to the brain making his head spin.
Merc: “Yeah… um… I think I should go lie down. Really nice to meet ya though. But I think I’m gonna go now…”
She stood up quick and pulled him to her to steady him. They stood close to each other for a very long pause. She stared up at him with a strange intensity that caused him to look away. Then without warning she pushed up on her toes to kiss him. He turned away from the attempt, overwhelmed with a strong feeling of guilt.
Merc: “Look… I don’t think…” He gently pushed her away from him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’re really pretty but… I mean… You’re with Leather… I can’t do that to her… it’s not good… it’s just not right.”
Her smile this time was almost maternal, which seemed strange in one so young. She gently took his hand and stroked his arm, moving closer to him, but not as close as before.
Dalilah: “You’re such a good guy aren’t you? So sweet. But I’m not with Anyone. I like Leather. She’s a sexy chick and we had a good night together. But she’s not why I came here tonight. I told ya, I came here looking for You, and here you are. I know what I want Michael. I know it… and I take it. Life’s way too damn short to live any other way.”
She broke contact with him and walked backwards towards the door.
Dalilah: “Think about that daddy. Take a chance. You don’t always have to be the good guy. Sometimes… you have to do what’s best for You. Nighty-night… Mister Mercenary.” With a flourish she turned to leave, but she turned one more time to smile at him (and this time there was nothing in the look but naked seduction.) “And if you were wondering, my name’s Dalilah… Dalilah Ashe.”
The music played loud and the crowd moved to answer its demand. Michael sat in his regular seat at the back of the club, far enough removed from the action that he felt comfortable thinking he was a part of it. Dalilah was dressed in a school girl skirt and leather coat, and she was draped across his lap like a security blanket, sipping a scotch and soda, and moving suggestively to the rhythm and the beat. In that moment, for him, the whole world was made up of her: The sight of her black and white beauty. The smell of her perfume and the sweat and skin underneath. The feel of her friction and the warmth of her form. There was nothing else in the world but this woman. He couldn’t see anything else… and he couldn’t see it coming.
Leather stood in front of them, back-lit by the bar, the look on her face all hurt and confusion. Mike blinked when he saw her, the spell of the moment broken by the strange sight of a serious Leather Cordowan. He had become accustomed to the carefree woman that he admired so much for her lack of concern (a trait he had also discovered in Dalilah and was another thing he had come to like about her.) But this girl was serious… and seriously pissed off. It was Dalilah who broke the silence, giggling slightly as she spoke.
Dalilah: “BABY. There you are! I’ve been looking for you ALL DAY.” She reached out to her, trying to hold her hand. Leather slipped her grip, pulling roughly away from her.
Leather: “What is this? What are you doing… Michael?”
Mercenary looked confused, slow to understand the scenario. It was again Dalilah who answered.
Dalilah: “C’mon now babe. It’s not a big deal. We’re just… being friendly. There’s nothing wrong with making new friends is there? We can be friends can’t we? We can ALL be friends. With each other.” She smiled a flirtatious little grin and reached back to caress Mercer’s cheek. He flinched away from the contact and the reaction it brought to Leather’s features.
Leather: “Can I talk to you for a minute? D? I really need to talk to you for a minute? Right. Now.”
Dalilah sighed dramatically and hopped off of Mike’s lap, following Leather into a small seating area behind a privacy curtain. The muffled sound of their raised voices reached him and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair, taking a long gulp of strong, dark, liquor from a glass on the table next to him. He was overcome with a sudden infection of nerves and had to stand up to clear his head. A hand on his shoulder caused him to turn. Thorn’s expression made the hair on his neck stand up and for a second he felt like he was about to get hit.
Thorn: “What the fuck are you doing here bro? What the hell are you thinking about? Have you finally gone brain-dead from too many shots to the head?”
Merc was confused: “What the hell are you talkin’ about? What? Done what?”
Thorn: “That Dalilah chick bro. What? What do ya mean ‘what’? You’re up here messin’ around with Leather’s frickin’ girlfriend man! Are you kidding me? Are you so blinded by the prospect of barely legal ass that you can’t see what’s going on here?
Girlfriend? The phrase resounded in his head. Leather’s Girlfriend. He felt off balance and sick inside.
Merc: “Dalilah’s not Leather’s girlfriend. She said they were just hanging out. She said they were just having fun. Their not… DATING each other man. That’s just not right.”
Thorn: “Oh ‘SHE said.’ SHE told you that. SHE did. What did Leather say brother? What did your friend tell you about what they were to each other? Did you even ask her? Did you even ask the girl that’s as close to you as family? The girl that freakin’ loves you in every way one person can possibly love another person. You never did, did ya? Leather cares about that dumb little trick man, and you - YOU, of anyone else in the world - have been messing around with her. That’s just fucked up.”
The sick feeling in Mike’s stomach was turning into anger. He felt like he’d been back-jumped, taken off his guard, and beaten down like a punk. He didn’t like the feeling, and he didn’t like being accused.
Merc: “Why don’t you just back the fuck on up man. Seriously, take a damn step back! Don’t act like I’ve done something terrible just because I’ve finally, after failure after failure, found somebody who actually likes me for Me. She doesn’t want me to change myself. She doesn’t criticize me for feeling the way I feel. ‘You’re too intense Michael.’ ‘You’re too moody Michael.’ ‘Mike, why do you alway seem like you’re somewhere else when we’re together?’ I’ve finally found a woman who accepts me for who I am, without apology, and you want to make me feel bad for feeling good for a change? Get the hell outta her man! I’m sorry if some puppy love was put to sleep in the process of me finding a little joy in this world that I mostly all the time hate, but sometimes you just have to look after yourself. I mean it’s not like anyone else will.”
Thorn: “What is that shit supposed to mean? Leather looks at you like family. And Shade… I mean shit man, how can you say that kinda stuff to ME? My wife is basically in love with you because of all your dark and brooding bullshit, and I just let it slide because I trust her… AND I trust YOU! I stuck by you when everybody else took a powder. When the stable broke up… when the partners went away… when the girlfriends left you layin’... who the hell was there for you then? I mean damn it, you put me through a glass table in a match… put me on the shelf for six freakin’ months… and I never held it against you… not once! But NOBODY has ever been there for you before this trampy little goth freak who is clearly messing with your head. Total BS man. Total. I mean where are you right now? Where did my brother go?”
Merc: “I went where family always goes ‘brother’. I went my own way. And if you can’t handle that, maybe all the rest of you should do the same.”
Thorn had nothing more to say. He stared at him, a mix of anger and disappointment on his face. He shook his head and chuckled with no humor before raising his open hands, palms out, in a sign of surrender. He backed away a few steps before turning on his heel and stalking off into the club, the crowd swallowing him whole as if he had never even existed at all.
Mike didn’t watch him go. Instead he went and threw aside the curtain to find the space no longer occupied. Leather and Dalilah both had gone. Despite the anger burning behind his eyes the guilt was returning as the indignant fury dissipated. He needed to talk to Leather. He needed to know the truth of things. Climbing the back stairs to Leather’s private rooms he tried to think of what to say to her. In the whirlwind of Dalilah’s attention he had never thought to ask Leather about how she felt about it. Coming to the door at the end of the hall he knocked gently and called her name, and then again a little louder when no one answered. When he knocked a third time the door swung open slightly revealing the dark room on the other side, lit only by the moonlight through the far wall of factory windows. Calling out to her again, he went in, switching on a lamp fixture on the wall by the door. The room was empty… completely empty. The drawers. The closet. The medicine cabinet. All empty. Her clothes were gone. Her toothbrush was gone. In fact the only thing that remained was a picture in a frame hanging beside the bed. It was a picture of Leather and Michael: Her head resting comfortable on his shoulder, both of them looking happy and contented. He remembered the day it was taken. He felt a lump in his massive throat. A voice from behind him brought his mind back to the empty room.
NightShade: “She’s gone Miklosh. She left about an hour ago. She said she needed some space to think. She seemed… sad.”
Merc: “I didn’t know Shade. I didn’t know she was that serious. I just didn’t see it.”
Shade: “Seems like you’ve been missing a lot lately. Seems like you can only see what that girl is showing you. And I’m not so sure that’s a good thing. She’s not good for you Mikael.”
Merc sighed and frowned, clenching his fists and teeth: “So now you’re going to judge me. Everybody wants to judge me. Everybody wants to tell me what’s wrong with me. My whole life I have spent taking care of other people… worrying about other people. The whole time I beat myself up. I tried to take care of my Mom. I payed to take care of a guy I hated just because I blamed myself for him getting hurt in a damn match. The whole time I listen to everyone else’s advice and wonder what the hell is wrong with me. But SHE sees me. She sees the good and the bad and the worse. She sees it all and she doesn’t care. It feels okay to be myself around her. I don’t have to front for her. I don’t have to hide from her. I don’t know what she was to Leather, but I know what she means to me. I didn’t want to hurt anybody, but I’m just so damn tired of having to worry about everyone else but myself. I need someone like her. I’ve needed her for a long damn time. I feel like she’s what I’ve been missing. With her I feel… real inside.”
NightShade smiled with sad eyes. She took Mercenary’s hand and brought it to her lips, kissing the palm gently and holding it to her cheek. Mike didn’t know how to react. He was stunned to silence.
Shade: “David and I are leaving tomorrow morning Michael. We’re going to New York for awhile. We feel like you need some time to figure things out. But I hope you know, that if you need us, we’re just a phone call or text away. We love you Mike. You’re the only family we have left. But we have to go for awhile. I hope you understand.”
Mike felt like yelling. He felt like she’d kicked him in the gut. His air was gone. When he finally answered her, it was barely above a whisper:
Merc: “Yeah. I do understand. You’re family… and family always leaves.”
There were tears in NightShade’s eyes when she let loose of his hand and slowly left the room. Mike sat down on the bed staring at nothing. He sat there for a very long time. He sat there until the first rays of the sun shone through the window glass. He sat there as the shadows stretched across the floor. When he heard the door to the garage open at street level he stiffly got up and went over to the window that overlooked the back of the building. He watched as a hearse black car drove from the heart of the building, the creaking closed behind it. He could see them through the windshield - Thorn and NightShade… Dave and Darcy - two of the only people in the world that knew him well enough to say they knew him at all. He watched the car drive down the block and turn left at the light headed for the highway. He felt her there before she touched him. Dalilah pressed her face to his back and planted a small kiss. She massaged his shoulders with both hands. She whispered her words:
Dalilah: “I know. I know baby. I know it hurts you. You thought they knew you. You thought they were your family. And they were your family. They are your family. You love them. But love can make you weak if you spread it too thin. I know you have history with them, but history tends to fade when matters of the heart are involved. You don’t need them anymore Michael. They don’t know you. They don’t understand you. Not like I do. Not like I always will. You have me now, and I am going to help you become who you were always meant to be. You don’t need them to make your heart happy because I’m your heart now. I’m you soul. I’m everything you need.”
She kissed his shoulder and rested her head there in a haunting reflection of the picture on the wall. They stood there together watching the empty street.
“I love you.” he whispered.
“I know.” she replied with a satisfied smile.
Post Match: FSW Uprising #14
Mercenary slams the door to the locker room behind him, nearly missing hitting Dalilah square in the face. He limps and rages across the room ramming his fist into the door of several of the lockers along the row. The last one he hits caves inward with a large dent. Turning his back on the lockers he slams the back of his head against the hard steel and slides down to a crouch, his fury abated, now seething and silent. Dalilah, who has kept her distance from his anger, now comes to him. She kneels down in front of him, taking his face gently in her hands. His breathing calms at her touch. He stares away from her vacantly, his face twisted with a mix of disappointment and pain.
Mercenary: “I quit. I fucking quit! How the hell…?”
Dalilah draws his face against her smooth stomach and caresses the back of his sweat soaked hair. He breathes in and sighs heavy and ragged as he reaches up to hold on to her waist.
Dalilah: “Baby, look at me.” He raises his eyes upward to meet her stare. “You didn’t quit. You chose to survive. You did what you had to do to keep from getting injured. Cowards quit, but brave men choose to fight another day. That’s what you did. That’s All you did.”
He pushes gently away from her and rises slowly to his feet. She steps ups to kiss his cheek and he accepts her attentions, though he is obviously still holding on to the result of the match. They pack their bags in silence and head out a side door headed for the parking lot. Though it is hours since the show has ended there are still small groups of fans hanging around outside looking for autographs. Michael and Dalilah give them a wide berth, in no mood for fan interaction on this night. A group of four young rowdies spot them from across the lot. They are talking and laughing amongst themselves, pointing in their direction. As The Mercenary gets closer to them the largest of their number starts to shout drunkenly at him.
Fan: “Hey Mercenary. MERCENAAARY! Mercenary, you fuckin’ bitch-boy. You tapped out. You tapped out.”
The chant is taken up by the fan’s companions: “YOU TAPPED OUT! YOU TAPPED OUT!”
Mercenary’s face goes to granite with fire burning behind his eyes. He turns to face the crowd, but before he can react Dalilah charges towards them in a rage of her own.
Dalilah: “And who the fuck are you!?! What have you ever done!?! You would piss your damn pants if you ever found yourself in a real fight! Just shut your stupid fucking mouths! Just shut the hell up!”
The man who started the chant laughed, which caused his companions to also chortle at the angry woman who was just over half his size. Their laughter struck a nerve in Dalilah and she flew at the man, slapping and clawing and his face. The whole cluster was taken off guard by the assault as one of the ring leaders friends tried to pull Dalilah off of him. But that was all that it took. The second his hand grasped Dalilah’s arm Michael saw blood red and his mind went haywire. Mercenary bowled into the group of men, getting one by the throat and another by the beard at his jaw. He threw one man halfway across the parking lot and slammed another hard against a concrete column. A third man tried to stop him, not really fighting back, just trying to talk sense to the enraged wrestler. He was kicked in the gut for the effort. The fan who had spoken first suffered the most. Dalilah stepped away from him so that he could watch what was happening to his friends. When Mercenary turned in his direction he tried to back away, but Dalilah blocked his path allowing Mercer to grab him by his shirt and punch him to the ground where he kicked him while he was down. Dalilah berated the man, who lay in the fetal position trying to protect his face and head from the toe strikes of black motorcycle boots.
Dalilah: “Who’s the bitch boy now bitch? Who’s the bitch now!?! Tap out bitch! TAP OUT!”
It was only the involvement of EWC event staff and security that saved the men from a more brutal beating. It took about four of them to pull Mercenary off the fallen fan with two more necessary to drag Dalilah away. They were quickly ushered to a car and removed from the arena while FSW office agents tried to smooth everything over with the shocked and shaken fans.
Lazarus: Ladies and losers, I would like to present to you a list of 100 reasons why Robbie Rayder is a nobody who doesn't deserve to share my spotlight...
Watson: Draco Lazarus, the phrase "self-satisfied" doesn’t quite cut it.
Sydney: He’s always been a humble sort of guy, that’s for sure.
Draco flipped open the cover sheet and lifted the microphone to further honor them with his genius, but before he could continue he was interrupted by the sound of amplified applause. A slow and sinister clapping resounded over the arena. It sounded like an axe hacking at the trunk of a hollow tree. From the stage The Mercenary glared down the ramp at the ring. Stopping his ovation with a sarcastic flourish he raised a microphone of his own.
Mercenary: Draco. Draco. DRACO! My man! What can I say about your master plan last week. I’m sayin’, Work of genius! The way you played everyone in The Chainbreaker match against one another until You and your unwitting partner Robbie Rayder were the last team standing. I mean you had everyone running around like little puppets dancing for your delight. And while your opponents were kept busy doing dirty deeds on each other before the match even started, you just sat back and played date night with The Champ Melody Malone.
In the ring- chuckling the whole time- Draco gave an exaggerated shrug with a "who me?" expression and a wide grin.
Mercenary: Yeah, that’s right. And I’m sure she was just sooo impressed by how you played a game on everybody. You kept all eyes looking everywhere else but at you, and in the end you swept in and reaped the rewards of all that chaos. It really was very well done.
Draco smirked and shook his head.
Lazarus: And what exactly is your point big guy? I mean you’re not telling me anything that I haven’t already said myself, and with a much more compelling narrative. I don’t know what you’re so pissed off about anyway. At least you got something out of the whole deal. That’s more than some of those suckers got. I mean you did get the cash I gave your girl right? For services rendered? Paid in full.
Sydney: I knew it. Draco hired himself a hitman. I knew some cold hard cash must have exchanged hands last week to put all those pieces in play.
Watson: And it looks like The Mercenary is a man who lives up to the monicker. He’s nothing more than muscle for hire. That’s actually kind of a disappointment.
Sydney: But not a shock Tim. Not a shock at all.
The crowd boos loudly at this revelation and The Mercenary looks annoyed.
Mercenary: MY girl was acting in what she thought was our best interest. She got into bed with you…
Draco laughs out loud.
Lazarus: Yeah. "Gettin’ in bed" with people seems to be what that chick does a lot.
Mercenary scowled deeply at the interruption and the implication.
Mercenary: SHE made the deal with you without consulting me first, but we still did your dirty work. We let ourselves be distracted and our lack of focus cost us a shot at the TV title, an opportunity that You went on to claim for yourself.
Lazarus: And I still fail to see your point. You got your money. I got my title shot. As far as I’m concerned that concludes our business big boy. We are done, and I’m moving on to get myself some gold. End of story.
Mercenary: It is that? It is the end of that story. But I just thought I would add a little epilogue to your tale of victory. I thought you might want to know where all that money went.
Draco shook his head and shrugged again, mugging confusion and exasperation for the crowd.
Lazarus: I don’t know man. I just assumed you spent it all on leather jackets and a crate full of fishnet stockings and black lipstick for your lady friend. I don’t really give a moist wet handful of crap what you did with it. Now you’re just wasting my time here. Get to the point. Are you looking for another job or something, because I’m all through hiring goons for the time being.
Mercenary: No Draco. I’m not looking for a job. In point of fact, Dalilah has already invested your money by creating a few jobs of her own.
From behind Draco two huge figures, each dressed completely in black, jump the railing and slide into the ring. Each man is wearing a black bandanna over their face bandito style. Draco half turns in time to get a boot square in the gut. He doubles over and the other man kicks him in the side of the head. Draco drops the microphone and falls down dazed. The two men put the boots to him as the crowd goes crazy with confusion.
Sydney: What in the world is this about?
Watson: Two guys from the crowd are stomping Draco Lazarus in the middle of the ring.
Sydney: Where the hell is the security. Can we get some help out here please?
One of the men, a large bald man, picks Draco up by the legs, holding him in the wheelbarrow position while his long haired companion climbs to the top turnbuckle. He pauses for a second to gain his balance before dropping a vicious guillotine leg drop on the back of Draco’s neck. On the stage Mercenary has been joined by Dalilah Ashe who cackles with pleasure at the damage being done in the ring. The pair walk to the ring to join the two assailants where they stand over Draco, who is holding his neck and trying to regain his orientation. Mercenary sticks the toe of his motorcycle boot under Lazarus's chin, lifting his face so that he is forced to look up at Dalilah. He kicks Draco over onto his back. Dalilah straddles him seductively and squats to sit on his chest. She screams and laughs like a maniac before striking and slapping him several times in the face. She then reaches into her pants and pulls out a crumpled hundred dollar bill. She un-wads the bill and rubs it in his face before stuffing the money into Draco’s mouth causing him to choke and spit.
Sydney: Oh no. She’s giving him the Million Dollar treatment.
Watson: And who knows where that filthy bill has been. This is terrible Cid.
Dalilah stands and takes the microphone from The Mercenary.
Ashe: I told you Draco. I told you that it would not be a good idea not to be our friend. And the way you tried to play ME and My Man. THAT was NOT VERY FRIENDLY of you. But I hope that you are happy that your money was put to good use. After all, I took a cue from you and bought some allies of my own.
To the left and right of Draco the two men pull down their masks. When Mercenary sees their faces revealed he does not wear a happy expression.
Sydney: If I’m not mistaken Tim that looks to be Malice. The last time we saw him in an EWC ring he was getting his ass handed to him week after week over on Rampage.
Watson: It’s been a long time since we’ve seen him on EWC TV but it looks like he’s returned with a little back up this time.
Sydney: I wouldn’t exactly call either of these guys "little" Tim, but what the hell is their association with Dalilah Ashe and The Mercenary?
Mercenary drops out of the ring and heads to the back. Dalilah watches him go with a slight hint of concern, laughing almost nervously before she shouts at the crowd and leaves the ring herself, flanked by her hired hit squad. In the ring Draco has pulled himself up on the middle rope. He is coughing and is as confused as the crowd, who are growing restless and getting loud.
Watson: Well Cid, I guess we won’t be getting any answers this week, but I have to say that Draco will most likely be thinking a little harder about who is does business with in the future.
Sydney: To be sure Tim. That woman is missing more than a few screws.