As crazy as it all was, she was starting to actually enjoy her little family. She had gone from being a lone wolf, being on her own, to having this motley little group and she really couldn’t see herself without them anymore. Reika, as much of a handful as she was, brought a lot of humor and crazy moments. Zara was an absolute angel, sweet as pie and great with Reika, taking some of the burden of keeping her safe. Finneas? Well... the incubus had his uses. He had endeared himself to Lycana as much as she didn’t want to admit it. She was rather fond of them all. And to think, it had all started with Marf.

He was the first to break down the walls she had up. It hadn't taken long. They had built their partnership on mutual trust and the desire to shed the blood of any who crossed them, the easy affection growing as time went on. Now? They were damn near inseparable. The bond unshakeable. With each other through thick and thin, regardless of whatever anyone else thought. And speculation sure did run rampant about them on a regular basis.

They had gotten back much later last night than they had anticipated. With Finneas being around them on the drive home, and then having Reika not forgetting they had promised to play Connect Four with her, time had slipped away and they had both fallen into the bed, exhausted, deciding to hold off on their talk until the morning.

After a blessedly peaceful night with no dreams, he was off probably in the kitchen, and she was having some moments of reflection on everything that had happened.

And damn if she didn’t have a ton to sort through after the events of the previous day.

It wasn’t even just that she was now in possession of a bell that could bring people back from the dead, and give her the power to send them back to the underworld anytime she wished. It wasn’t even that she had brought Damien back from the dead successfully, with him being his old self. More or less... the years had clearly changed him. It was the fact that she had managed to bind him to her, in such a way there was nothing he could do about it. It would stay until she decided to cut the ties on her own accord. She could feel it now, when she searched deep inside, his aura a dark green, different from her own, yet still filled with shadows and darkness.

It was something she had wanted so dearly, to have her pet yet, to have that connection to him once more... but now? Now she was questioning her own actions.

Was it newfound abilities of Damien’s she had experienced, or was it a side effect of this bond that she had created? Every single time he had touched her, she could feel it. When he had looked at her towards the end of the encounter... As gentle as it had been, like a breeze whispering across her senses... she had felt him among her memories, among her feelings. It disconcerted her. Watching the flickering emotions behind his eyes, the myriad of reactions flitting one at a time across his face had told her almost everything she needed to know. He was seeing things, things that had she had kept locked up tight to all except Marf, should he choose to deep dive in her mind. What didn’t it tell her?

WHAT had he seen?

What had made him respond that way to her?

There was a point where the look in his eyes had nearly scalded her. It was if he was disrobing her in his mind, and was enjoying every moment of it. It had about paralyzed her in shock. Lycana was not completely oblivious to her own charms, some of the men in the XWF commented often enough if she was ever inclined to forget, but... Damien? This was DAMIEN.

What the hell had he seen that prompted THAT?

She racks her brain, trying to come up with anything and fails. Then, when he had delivered that message about ‘Eadon’, whoever that was, he had looked at her. Really looked at her. Like he had seen her, not the demonic bitch he had seen her as so long ago. Like he could see all the vulnerabilities, all her doubts, the... softer side of her that was normally reserved for very few.

Her troubled mind shifts gears towards whoever this... creature was under the guide of a Lich King. Eadon. How did he know who she was? Her name. That’s what concerned her the most. It wasn’t widely known, so to have someone who was roaming the In-Between know that, was odd. If he had killed the one who ran that realm, and still threatened Damien even in his own death well... that meant it wasn’t truly a death at all. He had a way to come back, and would be around... still seeking a way to get back on the mortal plane and find his way to her to....

To what?

Let's just add another unknown supernatural being after her. What else was new?

Back to the matter that was of importance right now; this tie between her and Damien. If she was to unbind him, would his abilities cease? Was she willing to give that a try? Maybe whatever had happened had been merely some kind of weird fluke, the leftover power that was floating in the air from her summoning his soul back to his body. Yeah, maybe that was it. She could always find out, the next time they were together. Whenever she decided to call him to her. Actually... she pauses, realizing she has been staring out into an empty yard for a time... Finneas had never really told her just how that would work. Something magically of course but, how exactly?

It wouldn’t hurt anything to give it a try, would it?

She would just, give it a go and see.

She turns from the window and takes a breath, letting her conscious focus on that deep green thread tied around her own essence. She wraps her hands virtually around it, and gives a gentle tug, followed by a much firmer one.

And suddenly Damien is standing there before her.

Very wet.

And very naked.

Her jaw nearly hits the floor as she gapes at the expanse of flesh currently dripping water all over the carpet, before snapping shut as she spins on her heel, her hands coming up to cover her face far too late to prevent her from getting quite an eyeful.

Damien’s hands lower from his head, bubbles still cascading down his neck from his hair, which he had been lathering up in quite a nice shower before he was transported to... He glances around. What appeared to be Lycana’s bedroom. The shock slowly starts to leave his system, as he studies the back of her head with a scowl firmly affixed in place. So now it wasn’t enough that she had essentially become a ball and chain, controlling him, she had to exercise it just to.... to what exactly? Show him that she had the power over him?

His fists clench and unclench by his sides, the urge to wrap his hands around that delicate neck in front of him. To feel her smooth, soft skin under his fingers. To feel it give way under the pressure as he began to squeeze it. To watch the panic in her eyes fade away as he throttled the life from her. The satisfying thud of her body hitting the floor.

He shudders violently, both in reaction to his vehemence, and the realization that he couldn’t even do that. She had taken that away from him. Just like she had taken his freedom. He sucks in a shallow breath, trying to calm down as he lets his eyes travel the length of her body, noting her posture. She was discomfited. “Were you in a rush to see me again Tavora?” he drawls the words, putting a touch of insinuation in his tone, watching with pleasure as her spine stiffens even more. He hears her sharp inhale, ready to throw a retort back at him when the door flies open.

Marf comes walking into the room holding a bowl of what appears to be Lucky Charms. He’s looking closely at a spoonful as he enters the room. “Hey you ever notice the heart ones get soggy faster if you have milk? But it’s too dry without milk. We should look for a place that sells just the marshmallows if that’s possi...” Marf stops dead in his tracks and glares at the naked Damien. He shakes his head and abruptly turns around and leaves the room with his cereal.

A weird strangled noise emerges from Lycana’s throat at the utter absurdity of it all. A low chuckle from behind her, has her starting to whirl around, before she remembers his current status, and she whirls right back. “What’s the matter Tavora? Flustered by a little skin? Why am I here?” the amusement colors Damien’s tone. She could nearly see the knowing smirk on his face. Her face burns as she raises hands to her fiery cheeks. “I wanted to see how the linking worked.” His throaty laughter comes once more. “You didn’t even know how it worked?” She bristles. “I told Arcana I’ve never used the damned bell.”

This was too good of a chance to pass up. It wasn’t all the time one was able to throw Lycana off, to gain the upper hand in a situation such as this. To see her losing her grasp on her ice queen demeanor, it pleased Damien. It made him want to ruffle her feathers all the more, push her further to see what would happen when she lost her cool. He wasn’t able to lay a finger on her, but was it the same for her? Would she revert right back to her old ways, lashing out verbally or physically like she had, during the rare occasion he had pushed her too far? There was only one way to find out. He steps up close to her, close enough that he could smell the lightly fruity scent of her shampoo. Lycana was into coconut? He takes in a deep lungful, making sure she knew what he was doing. He can see her twitch as she resists the urge to move away from him. He dips his head so he can speak into her ear.

“You know, I never did properly thank you for bringing me back....”

“Stop it, Damien.” there was a waver to her voice, causing him to pause. What was it about her? She was nothing but a vicious, cold hearted bitch and he knew it. So why did he keep getting this nagging feeling she was a lot more vulnerable that she appeared to be? He shakes his head. Probably a side effect from being dead. Maybe his brain had been rattled around a little more than he liked to admit. He unwillingly steps back, unable to stop himself once the notion of her being a helpless female was there, hovering in his mind, as absurd as the idea was. A long, suffering sigh emerges. “At least point me in the direction of your shower, so that I can finish what I was doing before you conjured me here. Or send me back.” irritation leaks through into his voice once more, his eyes slowly drifting about her room. Really he was surprised about how ‘normal’ her bedroom looked. He didn’t know why, but he had expected something a little more... dungeon-ey.

Lycana turns to face him, carefully keeping her chin raised, and her eyes focused on his face. “I don’t know how to do that, so you’re stuck here for a bit. Showers through there, come down the stairs to the kitchen when you're done and you can call Arcana.” she says, waving her hand in the direction of the bathroom. Damien turns and strides off, not giving a single fuck about his state of undress. Lycana makes her escape, slipping through the bedroom door to scramble down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Marf sits with his bowl of cereal.

He raises a last spoonful of Lucky Charms to his mouth as he stares at her.

“Why was Damien naked in our bedroom?” he inquires, letting the spoon clatter into the bowl as he leans back slightly in the chair. The sound of the shower coming to life overhead seems to punctuate the question, as they both glance up towards the ceiling.

“I tied him to me when I brought him back to life. Essentially, I bound his essence to my own, so that I could summon him at will. And I didn’t know how it quite worked and well.... its umm... surprisingly easy.” she admits, avoiding his eyes as she slides into the chair across from him. “I see. Why did you do that?” his voice was soft, neutral. Lycana peeks his way but he doesn’t seem bothered. Marf simply sits there as unruffled as ever with all of her shenanigans. “Damien was, at one point... mine....” her voice trails off as she considers the best way to put it.

“So, you’ve said.” he prompts her, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. “I’m not going to pretend I like him Lycana. I don’t. And I don’t like him being here.”

“You’re mad.”

“No, but I do want to try and understand. The way he treats you, uses your name knowing that you don’t like it, and goads you. The way he tried to slice open your throat. If it weren't for whatever magic it was that you did...” he cuts off, his voice dropping into a growl before he gains control of himself. ”I wanted to kill him right there. I don’t trust him and I don’t see why you would want him around”

“I... I don’t know.” she admits to him, slowly running a hand through her hair, swiping the strands off of her face. “There was a time when I had worked him through his defiance, and he was loyal to me. That was a long time ago... I guess I was a fool to think that it would still be the same.” A nod from Marf confirms that he agrees with her sentiment. “Why do you need him when you have me? You know I’m loyal to you.” he points out.

The shower cutting off alerts them that their time alone was growing shorter.

“I know. Damien, he can be useful. With us not knowing what is coming our way, he could help. He already said he defeated this... Lich, Eadon, whatever it is that he came across. Maybe that has something to do with the dreams. Or if the blue-eyed woman shows up....” she slows to a stop at his stare. He slowly cocks his head to the side. “What makes you think he would help? He's tied to you yeah, but does that mean he would have to fight by our side? I wouldn’t put it past him to be on the sidelines cheering. For whatever the other thing was. To kill us.”

He wasn’t wrong.

“You’re right I just... I'd like to think that if it came down to it, he would see the benefits. It wouldn’t just be me, or you... but the bigger picture as a whole but... I don’t know. Maybe I made a mistake. One that I'm not entirely sure how to undo. I suppose there has to be a way to release him without ringing the bell and killing him all over again....”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

Lycana didn’t think he was joking. On a sigh, he looks at her, from her toes all the way on up. Nothing was ever boring. Or calm. Or even sane with her. He lifts a hand and scratches at his beard, slowly stroking the scruff as he thinks.

“You know I trust you Lycana, so whatever you decide to do, I will support you. But if he makes one more wrong move towards you, I will end him.”

They both fall silent at the sound of footsteps approaching, alerting them that their guest was making his way down the stairs. Damien steps into the doorway of the kitchen, pausing there. He is fully dressed, much to Lycana’s everlasting relief, squelching the fear she didn’t even know she had had, of him just jigging right in buck naked. Her face flames as she relives the humiliation of his arrival, turning her cheeks a rosy hue.

“Those are my clothes.” Marf points at Damien accusingly, as he regards Lycana with a look of annoyance about it before turning back to glare at the other man. His body language shifts from negligent, to a barely subdued hostility brewing just under the surface. If one didn’t know him, they probably wouldn’t be able to tell, but for Lycana, the switch was like night and day with Marf.

Damien looks himself up and down, scratching at the threads as if they were infested with bugs of some kind. His eyes scan the area around him, admiring the rather quaint and natural look of the kitchen and house he presently resided in. This was not how he envisioned Lycana spending her days. Where was the dark blood-stained walls? The bubbling cauldron? The torture chamber? He felt like he had left reality behind and entered into some bizarro world. His eyes finally fell on Marf, before he glanced over at Lycana, a smirk on his face. She still seemed rattled by his presence, and he was loving every second of that.

“Well seeing as how Tavora was so desperate for my company, she seemed to have brought me here without a thing to wear,” Damien responded, a sly grin coming across his face. “I wasn’t about to wear her clothes, but if you’d prefer I take them off…” Damien’s fingers went to his pants, starting to unbuckle them from his waist.

“No!” the word bursts from Lycana’s mouth, as she half rises from the chair. As both sets of eyes turn towards her, she subsides, slowly sinking back down into her seat.

She wished she could sink right through the damn floor and into the In Between or wherever this Lich who wanted to kill her was. That might be preferable to her current situation. Marf’s brow furrows slightly as he takes in her expression, causing her face to grow even pinker.

“It’s fine. I guess.” Marf’s words save her from having to say anymore. She owed that man more than she could ever repay. There was anger under them, he was clearly not fine. He was just doing it to not cause more trouble for her. Lycana clears her throat. “I suppose you want to call Arcana now?”

“About that,” Damien began, sauntering into the kitchen like he owned the place. “Seems like I didn’t have the foresight to bring my cellphone with me into the shower…” He starts looking through the cupboards before he finds what he’s looking for, a large round bowl. He digs around for a spoon, making a mess as he does so, before he finally settles into place at the table, pouring himself a nice, overflowing, bowl of Lucky Charms. Damien pours the milk into the cereal, his eyes locking with Marf’s as he seems to forget about stopping to pour before the liquid seeps up and over the edge, taking a tidal wave of marshmallows with it. “So maybe you can do your little witchy magic and send up some smoke signals for me?” Damien teased, digging the spoon repeatedly into the bowl, his eyes still glaring at Marf. “Though, perhaps before that… you’d care to explain the ‘why’ I’m here, exactly. Unless… that is, your boy toy here walked in on us before the real fun could begin.”

Yep. Death by whatever the hell the Lich was would be so much better. Where was the Harbinger when you needed him? WHY was she so disconcerted by all of this? “I told you before... I just wanted to see how it worked.” she mutters, staring at the puddle of milk and cereal bits oozing its way across the table.

“How about we start with you not wasting anymore of our cereal, dipshit?” Marf snarls. He shivers with suppressed rage, his eyes never leaving Damien. “Interesting…” Damien grins ear-to-ear as he lowers himself down to the bowl, making a loud slurping sound so as to keep what cereal remained from overflowing all over the table. “Possessive over his breakfast food, but not his woman… the plot thickens.” Damien grabbed a nearby napkin and dabbed his lips with it as his eyes shifted over to the blue-haired vixen. “Anyway,” Damien sighed, winking at Lycana as if the two of them were privy to some secret agenda.

“Now that your curiosity is thoroughly sated, what say you conjure me somewhere that isn’t… here.”

“Yeah, let's make him anywhere that isn't here. Ever.” Marf glowers, his hands balled into fists so tight his knuckles were turning white as he turns to Damien. “Otherwise, I will really enjoy punching you in the face tonight as you sleep.”

“I’m not... We’re not... He...” Lycana stammers out before scrapping that entire line of thinking. Why did everyone think that she belonged to Marf as his woman? She shakes her head sharply, now was not the time. Not with two men across from her, one stirring the pot and the other about to erupt like a volcano. She pulls herself together, trying to stomp the flustered feeling into oblivion. “I don’t have the same powers Arcana has, the ability to move things wherever I want like that. What I DO have, is a phone. And a car if you’d rather I drive you. I don’t suppose you would.” She stands up and makes her way to the counter to grab paper towels.

Upon returning, she not so subtly places herself between the two, slapping her hand down unnecessarily hard to stop the milks journey across the wooden tabletop. She hoped it didn’t come down to a physical battle between them, otherwise being in the middle she’d wind up in worse shape than after the pay per views two matches.

Their reactions were priceless, making it all the more enjoyable for Damien to keep pushing their buttons the way that he was. He tried to conceal his enthusiasm behind a stoic and intimidating mask, but could feel his stone like skin starting to crack as a soft smile began to twist his lips upward. “I mean,” Damien turned to Lycana, piercing her gaze with his as his hand crept across the table and fell atop hers. “It has been a few years since we had some one-on-one time together, Tavora. I’m sure you remember…”

Damien’s voice caught in his throat as the visions in her mind took him to a place he didn’t want to be… not now… not ever. The knife was at his throat again, the blood dripping down his neck. She stood before him, like she always did, the darkness all around them, the only light in the room emanating from the four smoldering fire pits conveniently located in the corners of the room. No matter how high their flames blazed, he never felt any warmth here… not in this hellhole. Her eyes seemed to burn red with desire, matching the crimson that flowed down his body. But there was something different this time around… something about the way that she looked at him. What was it? Fear?

Damien instinctively pulled his hand away from hers in such a knee-jerk reaction, you would’ve thought she had cut his very fingers off at the knuckle. His eyes darted around the room, regaining his bearings, as his arrogant façade melted away into one of discomfort and dread.

Lycana falls back away, internally battering at the invading force of Damien’s magic as it plundered the darkest recesses of her mind but to no avail. Until he removed his hand. Her eyes wide and wild, she opens her mouth to say something, but no words come out.

Marf slams the chair backwards as he rises quickly to his feet, his anger no longer hidden. “What in the hell is happening?” he grinds out between gritted teeth, fire in his eyes as he looks from one to the other, barely hanging onto the reins of violence, wanting nothing more than to pick Damien up and slam him directly through the table.

Lycana keeps her gaze leveled on Damien, his own disturbed reaction mirrored back in her own face. “I don’t know.... But I think... I think it's time for Damien to go.” She moves to grab the phone, presenting it to him from a distance.

“More than.” Marf aims a smirk at him. “Don't rush back.”

“Right,” Damien responded, almost dejectedly. “Clearly I’ve overstayed my welcome.” Damien pushed the chair back and rose up from it, glancing at the two before his eyes went to the phone in Lycana’s hand. He shook his head as he refused to take it from her, opting, instead to go for a walk, attempt to clear his head. He reached into his back pocket, pulling forth a wallet and dropping a few bills down onto the milk-soaked table. “Lovely decor you have here, Tavora,” Damien sardonically stated, making his way towards the nearest exit. “Hospitality requires something to be desired, though.”

He opened the door, glancing over his shoulder at the pair one last time. “Next time you think of beckoning me to your side,” Damien growled, focusing solely on Lycana, his eyes shimmering with the darkness within. “Do us both a favor… and don’t.” And with that, he slammed the door shut behind him.

Silence hovers over the room for long moments.

“FUCK.... That was my wallet.”

____________________________________________________________________________________

“You know, as much as I tried to get under your skin, teasing you about us being alike... It is true in a way. You know that Alias? I’m sure you want to throw your head back and scream denial to the sky and everyone who will listen but hear me out.

Both of us have had our doubters, heaping their criticism our way.

Both of us have faced adversity in spades.

Both of us responded by pulling ourselves up, dusting off and coming right back ten times harder.

Both of us refuse to give in, defiant in the face of whatever odds loom over us.

In that way, you appear to be the Yang to my Yin. Opposites in the way we think, yet connected all the same in the way we react and respond. I am the dark and you are, in comparison, the light. Cold and hot. Death and birth. You, you are viewing this match up in a totally different way than I am. I must admit I find it fascinating, taking in both our sides of this story. Each of us telling our own tales, walking along different yet parallel pathways, drawing closer and closer together, until they combine into one at Leap of Faith. It is there Alias, that our trails will meet. It is there opposites collide and merge.

It’s funny that you would liken those steel cages to a prison Alias. Is that truly how you are looking at them?

Seeing them as something to escape from?

Something that prevents us from getting away from one another?

This is one of the major points where we differ, on this match alone. I cannot see them that way. I strive to stay IN as long as possible. Getting out of them, is not even a thought rushing to be on my mind at this time. We have yet to even begin and you are plotting who would be first to leave. Yeah yeah, I know that’s how we win and all but... Are you so hurried to put this behind us? Wanting to just drop me so you can get on with your life? Are you not interested in savoring what we know is to come?

I had thought better of you. In that, I thought we were as one.

I view each one as a glorious layer, the outermost parts that I must step through to get to the present inside.

Yes, this match, my deathbed as you so eloquently put it, is a gift to me. Putting all of our history aside, removing all the factors that bind us together... who wouldn’t want a chance to face you in the ring? To stand there and know they have an opportunity to prove their worth beyond a shadow of a doubt? To show that they can last with someone like you?

I’m sure there are some pansy bitches shitting their pants at the notion, but do they truly matter?

Nah, they don’t.

You’ve done well for yourself over the months Alias. I don’t have to tell you that. Anyone would be blind to think that you are making this run on sheer luck alone. That briefcase you tote along with you, it speaks volumes. There are quite a few who should be sweating bullets right about now, as much as they try to hide it.

Maybe I have you confused, being that I’m extolling on your virtues as we near the eve of tearing each other apart.

Just as you had me stumped when you assisted in putting Rel through that table- thank you for that by the way.

I simply have nothing bad to say about you, so I'm not going to sit and pretend I do. Trash you just for the hell of it.

I’m not blind Alias. I know the challenge you provide, and I am over the moon about it just for that reason alone. No pun intended. Throw all our past adventures back into the mix and well... I’m downright giddy. This time it's not only just ‘work’, in it for the battle alone. This time, those cages are going to be filled with all the emotions bottled inside us, ready to burst forth in an inferno... I’m not one to be afraid of the fire Alias. I am drawn to it, just for the thrill of possibly being burned. I walk in, salivating over the chance.

We have had the moments in the ring, I’ve mentioned them often enough, but we never truly learned about one another. The scenes were always chaotic, more often than not filled with other players. When one has a single dance partner to concentrate on, the magic in the motion truly shines forth. You focus on each other, you anticipate their next action and move accordingly. Make each motion deliberate. And so, it shall be for us my darling Alias. We will learn both about, and from one another. Taking turns being the student, and the teacher.

One thing you will find, my dear, is that I will not be put down quite the way you are envisioning it. No. You said that our bond would change when I don’t get up, ever again.

That will NEVER happen Alias.

NEVER.

Thus, my prediction that this would not end at Leap of Faith.

You might very well take my feet out from under me, grounding me to the mat. I have no doubts that you would wreck my body. That you will tear open my skin and bathe in my blood. That your eager teeth will sink into my flesh to get a taste. That I will sport the marks of our time together for weeks to follow. I don’t, not at all. Hell, you may even do as you say and put the wolf down.

But you will never put me OUT.

And that Alias, is the clincher here.

You want me to stay down, and that’s not something I can offer to you even if I had wanted to. I stay down for nobody Alias. I’m not Demos, I don’t lay down willingly. I go under fighting every damn step of the way. I fight with every piece of my being to stay upright. But when I do fall Alias? I don’t stay there for long.

I refuse to.

You can drill me into that mat as many times as you wish. I will always get back on my feet. I don’t care if I have to claw my way up the side of the cage and hold myself there. I don’t care if my legs won't bear my weight without the assistance of something. I don’t care if you break BOTH of my legs. I won't stay on that fucking mat, and there is nothing you can do about it.

So, what then?

What do we do when the thing you want to get out of this whole thing doesn’t happen?

What would your response be, seeing me on my feet once more after you left the cages?

What happens if, somehow, I’m the one who climbs out and seals the victory?

What will you do if I break the longshot odds and leave you hungry?

I have all these questions Alias, and not enough answers.

I suppose I will get what I seek in a matter of days. To some of them at least. Speaking of questions though, I must admit I am surprised you accepted what Shawn Wylde told you without having any of your own for me. That man does do a lot of talking about nothing and everything all at once, doesn’t he? And they call ME a bag of hot air? I feel for you, having to spend amounts of time in his presence like you did. When I was his.... guest... it was quite an endurance run in misery let me tell you. As for what happened, yes... it is true. I could show you should we have a bit of a mishap and there is a malfunction if you wanted me to.

Do you?

It is refreshing that you just accept the improbable... there are so many other who just suck the joy right out of what they see as an impossible thing, something beyond the scope of their sadly limited imagination so it must be a crock.

This has been rather nice, actually sitting down and getting to speak both with and at you Alias. It gives me a bit of insight into your head, beyond the man who inspired the cry Eat the Left Hand. Such a virulent phrase, that so many started to take it up under you, seeking to rise and become the ones who caused the falls. They would have wanted to take that glory from you Alias, under the guise of sharing the honor. You and I both know that was never the case. They wanted the bragging rights themselves, to be the ones to crow in their cocky way that they had been a part of the war, our war.

Its better this way, with it just being us now. The others falling away and leaving you to do what you had set out to do, the original, the only one who had seen the threat. Had it all not fallen apart, I would have loved to see what you built against us.... alas, it will never be. There are not many left who walk these halls anymore... None under the banner of the Left Hand.

But as you said, I’m still here, I am the one you have chosen... and it is me you are getting on Sunday.

So is Marf... maybe you will face off with him in the future.

And Fury.

I’d like to extend the same offer to you, that you did to me. I would be more than willing to assist in putting her ass through a flaming table. A regular table. The announce table. Cracking her skull with a chair... We could take turns with a blowtorch if it strikes your fancy... anything you want really! You need me, you name it, you got it. I have a bit of a bone to pick with her myself.

I guess I cannot pretend this is all going to be hearts and rainbows coming from me, as much as it might seem to be compared to my usual dialect. I don’t dislike you, I admire you yeah, but that’s not going to stop me from doing what I love to do and that’s trying to rain a whole world of hurt down onto you. While you are trying to bring me to my knees, I’ll be trying to break yours. This might not be an Xtreme rules match Alias, but we might as well treat it like one. There will be blood. And you and I both know that the cages? Yeah, they are weapons in their own right begging to be used. I’d think nothing of introducing your face to them. Repeatedly. Until your blood falls in torrents.

I know you expect that, and that just adds to the anticipation for me.

There isn't too much more to say, is there? You and I know this is going to be a bloodbath. Everyone else on the roster knows that we are going to try and destroy each other. Management is probably wondering what is going to be left to scrape up and salvage for the future. They’ll be lucky if we leave the ring in the same shape as when we first step into it.

We might be opening the title matches, but we will be the one everyone talks about. All eyes are going to be on those cages. We will be the ones setting the pace for the rest of the championship matches to follow, and let me tell you Alias... they are all going to have their work cut out for them to even come close to the show of violence we are going to be putting on.

It’s coming on fast Alias, let's make it one that lives on in the minds of all who face us for ages to come. Bring me everything you got. Sharpen your teeth and do your best to Eat Lycana. Mine are ready to sink into you, and prove that you cannot. I’m more than ready Alias, I have been for a long time now.

Ravenous. Famished. Starved. Empty.

All words you will remain after this match Alias, because I will never stay down.

Get used to that growling, hollow feeling in the pit of your belly... it's about to become a permanent fixture for you.”