...
~~
A silent force stalked through the streets of Canada on that night. This stalker carried a knife, a knife so sharp that any living thing that brushed the killer was instantly cut deep, right to the bone in fact. The force had no form, no shape, no substance, only will. The will was to destroy with the most painful death and harm. This force was a familiar icon to the northern exposures. It was the dark destroyer of any life too weak to withstand it.
As this force, the wind of winter, whipped between the buildings in the unusually silent city, one man walked the sidewalk toward a building which he had come to think of as home. Having parked his Monster truck nearly three blocks away in the nearest parking garage, Ichabod carried himself along toward Zill Towers breathing in what he considered a refreshing cool air. He smiled as he prepared for his impromptu meeting.
James' face was one he'd be glad to see. He knew that WOW was going down the tubes when he left, but after a few weeks of rest, Ichabod had prepared some ideas that he was sure James would love, and he was sure would revamp the once successful wrestling promotion.
After Ring Wars, things seemed to have been going great for about two weeks, and thats when the shit hit the fan. With promising offers from other federations, the employment rate for WOW dropped to next to nothing. It wasn't that James couldn't afford to increase the pay of the wrestlers, he just wouldn't. He wasn't a greedy man, he was just preoccupied. Necron and his buddies made sure that James' focus was entirely non-WOW.
James had known that assigning Ichabod to an executive position would help, and it would have had Ichabod not decided to abandon the sinking ship before it pulled the few remaining members of the fed under. He'd seen it one too many times, and frankly he was fed up with seeing it. Besides, he wasn't the captain anymore, and he was ready to get out before that shit fan shorted out and caught fire.
Ichabod made his peace with the Revelation, grabbed Deidre, and got the hell out of dodge. He had intended on taking off for a long vacation, but during the booking of his flight to the Caribbean, light bulbs had started going off all over the place, and he instead had changed his flight plans to Canada.
Standing a block from the base of Zill Towers after his long flight, Ichabod looked up to the main office, which could only be seen from at least this far away. Looking up top from the front doors would make him go dizzy after only a few short seconds. Ichabod smiled again and put his foot out to take a step foward when a defeaning roar ripped through the silent night. A visible concentric shockwave emerged suddenly from the
That was when Ichabod felt the heat.
Instantly the night was baked in so much flame as the sky lit up like instant Fourth of July. Buildings around the tower first darkened to a deep brown and then gave up their windows inwardly. The quiet night exploded into chaos.
Ichabod got up slowly as sirens began to pierce through the resounding explosion. He put two tentative fingers to the back of his head and winced as they touched the spot where the skin had broken. He snapped back to attention and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head.
James...
Ichabod started to rush toward the burning building... but then he realized that no living thing could have survived that explosion. He dropped his head and put a hand to his temple trying to sort things out.
The ominous sound of an approaching motor with no siren to accompany it caused Ichabodd to look up. What he saw was a very familiar looking hearse. Ichabod's face turned to a very odd shade of white, not from fear but from realization, and his eyes narrowed. Once again fighting the urge to step foward, Ichabod shook his head as if arguing with himself and turned in the other direction. Best to leave all this behind now that it was in their hands.
Ichabod thinks back over all this now sitting on his bed in the Caribbean hotel. Deidre has gone out for drink mixes a few movies as the weathermen have predicted rain for the sorely tropical isle. It is now the present day, late January, and these things have weighed heavily on his mind ever since that night about three weeks ago.
He and Deidre had been just coming in from a long evening swim in the Atlantic. After witnessing what he had witnessed in Canada, he had rethought cancelling his vacation. He had flown back home and grabbed Deidre and caught the next cruise ship out to the island. There they had lived a life of luxury since November, and Ichabod wasn't tired of it in the least.
Ichabod's lip curled when he saw Gardener. Not in disgust or even hate. Just memories, old stale memories of a house in middle America where the boys were spoken to by God himself through this man. Ichabod watched as the bombshell was dropped and Old Man Gazinya revealed himself as Darren Zillaman. Ichabod smacked himself in the forehead half in disbelief, half in mock shock. He grinned at Deidre, knowing that this could mean big things for the now defunct WOW.
Only WOW wasn't the subject at hand anymore. Now it was nWo. Ichabod scratched his chin as he listened to Darren speak.
That was when the nightmares had started.
Ichabod shivered with the thoughts of those nightmares. Now sitting here, he realizes that his vacation is basically ruined. He hasn't been able to enjoy the parties, the drinks, the bars, the shows, even the nights alone with Deidre are haunting as he knows he must sooner or later sleep.
Now sitting here on the bed, he knows he must come to a decision if he is ever to rest. Something in those dreams is a message. His stare is burning a hole in the carpet when the door opens and Deidre comes in.
Ichabod? Ichabod!
Deidre drops the mixes and the videos and rushes over to Ichabod. He looks up suddenly and grabs her by the arm.
Come on we have to go.
Go? Go where?
Mainland.
What about our stuff? Ichy whats going on? Whats on the mainland? WHERE ARE WE GOING?
Ichy stops and looks at her intensely.
We're going back!
|
building, knocking the offbalance Ichabod against the building behind him. Glass starred out and the city lights sparkled from a thousand spiderwebs in the glass where Ichabod's head made impact. A spot of rich dark blood crested the center of the design.
As they came in and tossed their towels into a corner, Ichabod realized the television set was on. Funny, he didn't remember leaving it on. He took a seat on the bed as some really cheesy organ music played. The words on the screen were kind of fuzzy, and it didn't look much a like a church show from the logo.
