Ichabod runs through the woods frantically. His mind is racing, the post-homicidal mania setting in. He completely forgot about his rolling Leviathon, which still squats in the darkness of the woodsy road. He stops and collapses against a tree. His eyes are wide open, he looks left and right, and breathes short sharp breaths. He tears his shirt off and wipes the blood of the chief on off his face with it. Ichabod clears a dry spot out and burns the shirt. He lowers his head as he struggles for to breathe. The battle inside him to abandon his evil in an attempt to earn his fans respect is slowly consuming him. He sits for hours before beginning to speak.

Fox, I came here with a specific purpose. Now you know why I am so bad after Justin Payne. I have been very successful in my career, but all of my success has been attributed to not only skill, but cheating, mind games, manipulation, and hurting the innocent to get my way. I am not here to ride Payne to the top. I have proven to myself that I can make it to the top alone, without any help at all. I am after Payne to prove certain things to myself. That I can still compete with him after all the two of us have accomplished. That I can deal with my past. But most importantly, that I can achieve what I have already achieved by abandoning my past, my wrongdoing, my evil.

But Fox, its people like you that won't allow me to do this. How do you expect me to become a good guy if I must perform evil to appease my appetite that is feeding off of your insolence? How might I learn the fruits of respect if I must destroy every person in my path to earn it? This battle is so much more to me than just disposing of a nuisance. It is to remedy a small problem that you are creating. One that is rapidly growing and may spin out of control.

I must end this in order to achieve my goals. So Fox, your fate comes to reckon with you on Tournation. You got in my way, you stinted my success, and you ruined my methods of becoming something I'm not, but something that I know I can be, that I know I will be, that I know I need to be. You will pay for this mistake, you son of a bitch. You will know what it means for Ichabod to be f'cked with. I thought I had put the evil away, but you gave it rebirth, Fox. You have sealed your destiny by f'cking with me. You wrote your own death certificate, so all day tomorrow, you need to say goodbye to your family, because they will never see you again, lest it be in a closed casket. I am going to put you through the physical version of all the trouble you have caused me mentally. This may be a petty fight for you, but for me it is so much more. A chance to prove myself, a chance to redeem myself, and a chance to show you and the rest of the WoW Federation that Ichabod will not lay down and be walked on. I will never quit, I will never go away, and I will never die. Prepare for the end. . .

Ichabod lights a cigarette and stares off at the hill where the first rays of sunlight are beginning to gray the sky, and he smokes in silence.