Her voice was grating on her nerves. She should have known she wouldn’t have escaped her that easy. She had stood firm and told Arcana no and walked away off that beach, shaken at the turn of events but not willing to delve deeper. After the Mayday show, she had been prepared to mourn the loss of Damien. On her own. Within the confines of her own home. At her own pace. And what had she arrived back to see?

Arcana. Camped out on her doorstep.

She didn’t even question how the red-haired bitch had known when Lycana and Marf would return. It would like be some sort of spell. Or tracking shit. Or maybe Finneas had told her. At this point, she didn’t care. She just wanted her gone.

Unfortunately, Arcana was stubborn as hell and it didn’t seem to matter how many times, she said no. She still stood there and argued. At this point, Lycana thought she might end up sleeping out on the front lawn just to prevent her from coming into her house.

“Lycana! Its DAMIEN! You know how much he means to me...”

“And that’s exactly why I won't! I have no reason to help you Arcana. After what you did? What in the world could you possibly entice me with to help you?”

“I....” she comes to a stop, knowing very well she had nothing to offer Lycana. Lycana crosses her arms, at war within herself, although she didn’t let even the smallest flicker of emotion cross her face. It WAS Damien. That was the problem. To say they had a complicated history was the understatement of the century. They had shared so much over the course of his time at Hecate’s compound. At first, it was pure hatred stemming from the simple fact he meant so damn much to Arcana. And the feeling, was mutual. She lived to see the spark of loathing in his eyes, slowly growing into a blazing inferno. Knowing that if he was able to get free, he would try to kill her without hesitation. The way he screamed when she plied all the knives, hot pokers, pliers, and all her other tools of torture, had been the sweetest music to her ears. The clanking of the chains as he struggled to free himself.

But slowly, at some point... something had shifted.

She couldn’t even put her finger on when, or what had triggered it. The hatred had slowly eroded away. The eagerness to torture him still alive and well, but there was something else underneath it all. A possessiveness that overcame everything else. He was hers. That’s all there was to it. She had seen him as her pet, her plaything, become attached to him in ways she had never expected to. She enjoyed her time with him, beyond just living for the bloodletting and pain.

And he? He had gone from defiance, spewing the threats at her uselessly into begging her for death. Struggling to goad her on, hoping each cut of her knife would be his last. From there... acceptance. Learning to enjoy her visits, the companionship and conversation that came with her when she entered the room. The torture made him feel alive, in a world where he could trust no others... he had trusted her. She had reignited his will to live in some, strange way.

They had fallen into an easy routine, ended each night with her affectionately cleaning his wounds and promising to be back, to never leave him.

Except she had gone to meet the packs.

And when she had returned, he was gone. Sent away by Cate.

She had not seen him since.

A gentle lurch in the area of her heart has her sighing. In her eyes, he was still hers, regardless of how close he was to Arcana. The two had grown up together but it was she... she who had forged the real bond with him. She wanted to bring him back, deep down. The thought of seeing him again... she couldn’t think like that. As much as Damien belonged to her, those days were behind her. She never wanted him dead so young, but in this she had no choice.

“Why can't you just do it yourself? You're always lording how much more powerful you are than I am. So, what's stopping you?” she finally breaks the silence. Arcana swipes a hand through her tresses, her eyes wide, a vague flicker of hope trotting across her face as she chews on her lower lip. “It takes dark magic Lycana, you know that. You know I don’t have access to it like... well, like you do. And it's....” she hesitates, her eyes looking away for a moment. “Not allowed?” Lycana says drily. “Is that what you were going to say? It's okay for me to break the rules but not goodie goodie Arcana?” A frown is shot her way, but one that has a world of guilt laden behind it, marking Lycana’s word as truth.

“You have a reputation for it.” she clearly regrets the words the moment they are out of her mouth. Lycana’s eyebrow arches sharply up. “Lycana, its Damien. I wouldn’t ask you if it was anybody else. I'm desperate. Please. I'll do anything.” The offer was tempting. The darker side of her whispers in her ear. To hold one over on Arcana? To be able to get something from her, perhaps some revenge on top of it all. The seductive pull lures her forward, has her lips forming the agreement... before reality strikes once more.

She COULDN’T.

She literally could not risk it again.

“I can't. I couldn’t guarantee he would... be himself.” she begins, before rushing forward and cutting off the questions she knew were coming. “There are... complications that can happen and I just won't risk it. Nothing you can say or do can entice me to change my mind Arcana.” As she walks towards the front door, it flies open and Lycana’s heart sinks down to her shoes.

As Reika skips out the door.

“Can I have Cheez Its for dinner? Zara said no! Pleeeeeeease?” she hops to a halt, clasping her hands in front of her.

Lycana is frozen in place, her eyes slowly shift from the young blond to her rival, who is standing there, mouth gaping open as she takes in Reika. Lycana cringes. “Yeah sure, go ahead inside.” The quicker, the better. “Yay! Thanks! Will Marf play Connect Four with me later?” Lycana makes a shooing motion. “You’ll have to go ask him. I'm sure he will. We all will.” Reika grins and dashes inside. Perhaps Arcana hadn't...

“You and Marf...... playing Connect Four.”

No such luck.

Arcana stares. “And that was Reika. I thought she was dead?”

Click.

Her eyes widen.

“What did you DO Lycana?” Arcana asks, incredulously. “WHAT YOU’RE TRYING TO GET ME TO DO TO DAMIEN!” the words explode from Lycana. Her nerves, tighten even more as Arcana’s face changes from pure shock, into one of knowing calculation. She felt a chill wash over her, knowing what was coming, and knowing she was now powerless against it. “I won't tell Cate.” Arcana’s amber gaze locks onto Lycana.

“Blackmail? I didn’t think you had it in you.” Lycana’s lip curls wryly at her rival. Arcana’s chin comes up, jutting forward as she crosses her arms. “You would still have me do this, KNOWING that he can come back like Reika? Where he won't be himself? How would HE feel?” Arcana looks unsure, then scoffs. “Since when did you become so considerate of anyone Lycana? Especially Damien.”

“Since it would be on me if it happened to him as well. Since I almost died bringing Reika back, only for this to happen to her. Are you willing to let me use your life force instead Arcana? Are you willing to put your life on the line for his, for him to come back not himself? And you could die?” The two glower at each other for an extended period of time, neither backing down. Arcana’s jaw works and she opens her mouth.

“Why not use the Lazarus bell?”

Both their heads swing in the direction of the house, where Finneas is casually leaning, appearing out of nowhere as usual.

“What's the Lazarus bell?” Arcana asks him.

Finneas pushes up and starts meandering towards the two women. “Why, the second of your three wishes my dear.”

Arcana looks confused, glancing at Lycana before staring in awe at the incubus coming closer and closer. “Wishes? Wait... what was my first?”

“No! Don’t ask him t-”

“Why, me.... of course.” Finneas comes to a perfectly timed stop in front of Arcana, tossing his glorious mane of platinum hair over his shoulder, flashing his pearly whites, and doing everything in general to charm her right out of her panties. Arcana slowly blinks, seemingly lost in his beautiful sage green eyes. “Oh, fuck me.” Lycana mutters. She stomps over and snaps her fingers in front of Arcana’s face, simultaneously hip checking the demon out of the way. Arcana shakes her head looking from one to the other. “What...?”

“This is Finneas. He’s an asshole. He’s also an incubus.” Lycana turns to face the blond, who looks like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “What was he talking about? The bell?” Her voice comes from over Lycana’s shoulder, before she can deliver the dressing down she so dearly wanted to. She settles for the short version. “Can we not try to fuck everything that breathes?”

He gives her a grin and a subtle shake of his head before looking beyond her, his voice oozing with charm. “The Lazarus bell is an artifact, created by the Legacy a long time ago. It holds the power to raise the dead and bring them back. Why, giving it a good ring-a-ding three times and one little incantation and your friend will be good as new!” Lycana considers all sorts of fine deaths for the beast in her mind. It really was unfortunate that he was immortal. “If you're willing to take his word on it.”

“Without using the lifeforce?” Clearly Arcana was willing to take his word on it. “No, my dear, just normal powers. Clearly dark magic works better for this sort of thing... so you’ll still need Lycana here to lend you a hand.” All eyes turn her way. “I won’t tell Cate about Reika.” Arcana repeats “You know what would happen if I did.” Lycana growls low in her throat, her wolf not liking the subtle threat. “Of course, I know. I guess I don’t have a choice, do I? Where do we have to go to find this damned bell?”

“I can show you exactly where. I was the one that helped them bury it you know.” Finneas tells her. “I’m shocked.” Lycana is clearly not shocked by the news. “Great! I’ll get my things, and we can go do that.” Arcana scampers off towards the road, where she had hidden her rental car.

“You will thank me for this, you know.” Lycana can't help but let out a short bark of a laugh as she looks over towards the incubus. “I can't see how you figure that. I didn’t have many options. Nobody can know about Reika. I’m going to get Marf, we could probably use his help. With any luck he will just strangle her and we can forget the whole damn thing.” Annoyed with the whole situation, she spins on her heel and stalks off towards the house, mumbling under her breath.

“He will belong to you.”

She stops midstride, but doesn’t turn around. “When you ring the bell, and bring him back... you will power over his life Lycana.” his voice is low, seductive and promising. She turns once more. “What do you mean, exactly? Why do you think I would care about such a thing?” she suspiciously asks. He grins at her. “Oh, come now, I've been in your mind. I know what this Damien means to you. I know you thought of him as your own treasured pet. If you ring the bell, you not only bring him back to life, but you hold the power of his death. Ring it again, and you can send him right back. That’s not a small thing to be able to hold over someone, now, is it?” He comes to her now, getting close and dropping his voice to a purr. “There's also this nifty little addition we can throw into the incantation, that will bind him to you... he will have to come when he’s called, no matter what, and he cannot lay a finger on you to do you harm. He will... in fact... belong to you. For as long as you wish it to be so.”

He uses his finger to tilt her face up to look into her eyes with a satisfied smirk on his face. “Now what do you think about that?”

Lycana thought it was about damn time he had done something to prove his worth. She feels an answering smile curve her lips upwards, a feral gleam coming into her eyes at the thought of finally gaining hold over Damien once more.

“Let's go get that bell.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

It was a stupid idea.

Lycana stands looking down into the gaping hole in the earth before her. She is streaked with dirt and grime, and makes it worse as she runs a hand over her face, smearing it even more. Arcana sits on the edge, and she has the overwhelming urge to just dropkick her and send her flying into the depths where Marf is, leaning against the side. This was her fault. If this bitch hadn't come and asked her to come on this mission to bring Damien back from the dead, they wouldn’t have hiked all the way out to... wherever the hell this was. Dug a damn hole the size of an SUV because Finneas couldn’t quite recollect the exact spot, it had been a while you know, and now...

“How the fuck are we supposed to get this thing anywhere?”

Marf gives voice to everybody’s thoughts. Lycana shakes her head. When Finneas had mentioned a bell, she had had in mind something one could hold in their hand. Perhaps even a tabletop version. But this? They were all staring at something that was a hell of a lot larger, and a hell of a lot heavier than expected. It was an easy four to five hundred pounds. It was going to be a challenge just to get it out of the damn hole, nevermind all the way back to the packlands, where Lycana had planned on putting it. Things would clearly need to be thought through.

“We could probably pull it out, if all of us pitched it. ALL of us.” Lycana cuts a glare over the Finneas, who is standing as far away from the flying dirt as he possibly could, inspecting his well-manicured nails. His eyebrows twitch at the pointed barb flung his way. “You know I don’t like to get dirt on my clothing. Or skin. Or ruin my nails. Or manual labor in general, Lycana please.” he shudders, revolted by the mere suggestion of such a thing.

“Lycana...” Arcana’s voice pipes up. “You could have at least told us that it was this damn big Finneas. How did you think we were going to do this? Marf would just toss it onto his shoulder and stroll with it to the car? Set it right on top and drive it home?”

“You never asked.”

“Lycana.....”

“ASKED? You didn’t think it was just pertinent? Did it just slip your mind?”

“Well maybe your big, muscular hunk over there COULD pick it up...”

“Now is not the time to be an ass Finneas!”

“LYCANA!”

Arcana bellows, immediately looking surprised at her own vehemence when all eyes turn her way. She clears her throat. “I umm, I can send it wherever you want it. Using my powers.” she offers up a faint smile. Lycana responds with an eye roll. She should have known the all mighty Arcana could do something like that. She grumbles under her breath as she walks towards the hole and drops down, landing next to Marf who is pinching the bridge of his nose, overjoyed about getting to play his part in this little adventure.

A thud from behind alerts her to Arcana’s arrival. Lycana goes over to Marf, who tucks her under his arm as they watch the proceedings. Arcana simply drops to her knees by the bell, placing her hands on it. Her eyes close as she repeats an incantation, a deep red glow forming around her hands. Before their eyes, the red glow spreads, slowly wrapping around the entire bell. She sits back on her haunches and slowly rises, lifting the bell from the ground with her. The red glow gets brighter, making Lycana squint until with a bright flash, Arcana closes her hands and the bell is gone.

“It will be in the crypt you wanted it to be in, I will go fetch Damien and meet you there.” She tells Lycana, walking to the side of the hole. With a light jump, using her feet to propel her up, she scales it with ease and disappears from sight. “I’m going with this delightful soul!” Finneas’ voice wafts through the air as a car starts, followed by silence.

“Lucky Arcana.”

“She assumes a lot, doesn’t she?” Lycana looks up into his face, scrunching her nose up. “Always has. Especially when it came to Damien. He was always her soft spot.”

“And yours?” She pulls back slightly. “Damien and my past... it’s very complicated.” she says quietly. He chuckles briefly in response. “Lycana, with you, almost everything is complicated.” With a snort she makes her way to the edge. She couldn’t really argue that point with him. Even the relatively simple things seemed to come along with a bunch of crazy. “You can still run you know.” She feels his hands on her waist as he boosts her out, quickly following behind, brushing the dirt off his clothes. “I’ve told you a million times, I'm not going anywhere. Other than not wanting Cate to know about Reika, I’m just trying to understand about this Damien guy.”

“It’s a long story.”

“It’s a long drive.”

“I guess we’d better get started then.”

They flash small smiles at one another as they walk towards the car, to head back to the packlands and whatever fuckery awaited them when they arrived.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

“Pretty much everything comes to an end some time or another. There are the occasions where it is built to last forever, unfortunately within the XWF the Left Hand was not one of those. Most rejoice at the end of the era of the dark, while others sit and mull over what could have been. Wondering why and maybe ever how things could have been different. What could have been done to preserve it, to keep the work alive on behalf of the dark.

In reality, the collapse appeared to be inevitable.

Too many blows in such a short period rocked it from its foundations. The core pillars still stand strong, but that is neither here nor there when it comes to the XWF. There are none left that wander the hallowed halls of this federation. The Dissentients have branched off and become their own name, no longer under the umbrella of a faction.

However, what was done by the Left Hand during their time here will live on. Members put on the shelf, some still there to this very day. Others, who will wear lasting marks from our little adventures until the very end of their own days. Those, who have had the misfortune to cross path with us in the ‘best’ ways possible, they will never forget. We will never be fully gone to them, they will always wonder if some still lurk, completely undercover. Undisclosed. Undetected because all the rest take me at my word.

Jim will always remember how it felt to be embedded into Vinnie Lane’s Hummer. Tula will remember the results of her betrayal with every twinge in her shoulder. Ash Quinn will always remember how it felt to be hunted, to know the beat down that was coming for her around every corner. Betsy will always remember how it felt to be within the grasp of the Baphomet, his fingers constricting her airway. Jenny Myst, the heat from the flames spurting from the blowtorch by her face, as well as the humiliation of Geri Vayden taking the Shooting Star title from her.

Alias will always remember the branding.

Alias will always wear the scars from his first real encounter with the Left Hand.

He will never forget the pain. He will never forget the need for vengeance that made his blood boil. The very thing that gave him life, gave him purpose. Shaped his very being. As much as he hates it, he knows it's true. He knows that the Left Hand lit a fire under his ass, fixating his focus on satiating his hunger by ‘Eating the Left Hand’.

He was able to get a small taste over the months here and there, but one on one matches seemed to elude him. To elude us. Until he was able to get ahold of poor little Ash Quinn, after she was already out of the group, but couldn’t escape her fate. She was barely a amuse bouche for his ravenous hunger, I’m sure. He put her down with ease, and then turned his eyes towards the more filling prospects.

Myself and Marf.

The cry of Eat the Left Hand, morphing into Eat Marf and Eat Lycana.

Come Leap of Faith, management has finally seen fit to feed the caged beast. To finally give us the match we have both been waiting for, from the moment this all began. Alias is gnashing his teeth, eager to sink them into my flesh and taste revenge. His stomach growling with the desire to put an end to this whole thing, everything that he says has been holding him back. To break the bindings, to be free once more from the confines of what has been done for him.

But that won't happen.

Alias is not getting what he truly wants. And never will. He will always feel cheated out of the one he really desires getting ahold of, and that is the Baphomet. So, he is settling... thinking that he will just aim for the next best thing and feel just as full. He won't though...

Because Alias, what is coming down to the ring with you isn't a meek little rabbit like Ash Quinn. It won't be as simple of a task. You are meeting the wolf, predator. The Dark Vixen of Violence. The one who was the second in command. You will not find me as easy a meal as she. You have watched. You have tasted my brand of violence many times over. You know my lust for blood and pain quite well. You know I will keep coming back no matter what you see fit to dish out to me. You know there is no give to me.

Just as I know there is none to you.

You and I both know that this won't end at Leap of Faith, as much as you say, and perhaps even think, it will.

The outcome will never change the loathing between us. You will forever look down upon your scarred hand and see the Left Hand symbol, it is burned into your mind's eye even if it is no longer burned into your flesh. You will look up, and see one of us strolling along in the hallways in the back, that familiar feeling of rage will start to roil in your belly, the need to hurt will creep over you. That sort of thing just doesn’t up and disappear the moment your hand is raised in the air... and especially not if you are the one left on the mat, staring at the lights the bitter taste of defeat already coating your tongue as you hear the roar of the crowd, announcing the victor.

But Leap of Faith will be a start. A hell of a start if you ask me.

Not one, but TWO cages around the ring? Oh Alias, you do know the way to my heart, don’t you? I must admit, my heart did a little somersault in my chest upon hearing your declaration. It sounds just glorious to me my darling. You are quite a silly boy though, thinking that the two cages would keep you safe should Marf decide to come out and keep an eye on things. But don’t you fret Alias... I don’t plan on sharing you during this match. No, I do believe that this one, I'm going to have to be just a little bit on the greedy side.

I have wanted this, just as long as you have. The little tastes, the teases. The stolen moments we have had together, none of them were ever enough to satiate that desire linking us together, binding us in the chains of hunger. They tormented, only serving to show us what we were missing out on. The seeds of hate planted so deeply, taking root, watered and nurtured by the random bursts of physicality that occurred between us... They will blossom in glorious shades of crimson within the confines of that cage.

Crimson splashed all throughout the ring as we maul each other's flesh, renting the skin until it is nearly unrecognizable. Yes... the blood will flow freely Alias... yours and my own. Both of us will sup on the warm ichor of the other. We will dine upon each other. Within each other's pain and suffering, we will feast.

Trust when I say this Alias... I look to Leap of Faith with a keen eye and an insatiable longing.

I know you will not disappoint.”