Rain falls so thickly that it is almost solid in itself. It beats down upon the little neighborhood as the Monster prowls around the curving tree-lined streets. Leaves fall unnaturally in the early summer rain, and they rustle gently as the Monster continues to patrol.
Ichabod isn't lost, he actually knows this neighborhood quite well. It had been at least a year since he had been here last... he didn't really like Atlanta at all.
The reason he continues to circle the neighborhood is because he was waiting for Jecht to arrive. When that son of a bitch showed his.... well his mask.... Ichabod intended to stop the Monster dead in its tracks, get out, and just let loose on him. He'd been here since around noon, having packed his few necessary items after seeing Jecht's last promo. Knowing the address he spoke of, Ichabod had set out early this morning for Atlanta.
Now Ichabod pulls in front of the house once more. Having not seen its owner in some months, the house stands like a ghost; its shingles are flapping wildly in the rain and wind, the windows have long since dusted over with a thick, grayish film, the grass grows wildly in every direction, reaching high above the front porch. Ichabod opens the door and steps out, walking up to the gate. He places his hands on the rusting metal, staring at the windows almost as if he expects Jecht's... mask... to appear. Finally, he leaves the gate and walks to the neighbor's house. He rings the bell on the front gate, and a sharp buzzing distorts the sound of rain hitting the pavement. Ichabod listens carefully as the tenant's voice crackles through the speaker.
Who the hell is it?
Its an old friend of...Jechts. Can you come out?
Its raining man!
Its really important. My truck's broke down and I need to use the phone. If you can bring it to me, I won't even ask you to open the gate.
There is another buzz and a click. The front door eventually opens and a young guy in a polo shirt comes out carrying a cell phone. He tries to hand it to Ichabod, who reaches for it... but then grabs the man by the shirt front. He drags him against the rails of the fence hard, knocking the wind out of him and bruising his chest pretty badly. Ichabod looks at him crossly.
How's it goin', Daniel? Remember me?
I-I-Ichabod??
Yeah... say you haven't seen M.... I mean Jecht around have you?
I d-don't know what you are talking about!
Your kindly little neighbor. The wrestling guy...
Oh, you mean--
Ichabod puts a finger from his other hand to Daniel's lips.
Shhh. Don't say his name. He wants to keep it a secret. He's Jecht!
Really?! But he has amnesia... how can he want to keep his identity a secret?
Its all a big joke he's put together so that it will be a big damn thing when his face is revealed. You know how he is.
How can you be so sure he is faking it? I heard he took off the mask on WOWTV last night and he still couldn't figure out who he was.
And you actually bought that? Man you are dumber than you look. Think about it. He's lived with that face, looking at it day in and day out, seeing it on television, for the past twenty some odd years. I sent him magazines with that face, minus the scars, all over them. He has one of the most recognizable faces in the world, especially to himself. Now you tell me how a man cannot look at himself in the mirror and look at a picture of himself on a magazine and see through all those scars. It makes no sense to me, and so that is why I know he is just playing up some new idea that popped into his head for the sake of show business. He has always been about the flash and the flare.
But you said you were partly responsible for his disappearance... are you now denying that?
Coddamn you are stupid. Yeah I had a part... my part will be revealed to the world later... but I didn't do anything to warrant amnesia. Why would I want him to forget anything? I've been waiting for two years for him to look me in the face and know exactly who it is who beat the hell out of him... why throw all that away?
So have you seen him?
No man... but I doubt I'd tell you if I had... he's my friend.
It is at this moment that Ichabod slips into his other personality, smoothly, with no pain at all... only a squinting of his eyes to suggest a change. He lifts Daniel up over the rails of the fence and flings him bodily into the street. Daniel rolls three or four times before stopping at a curb. Ichabod turns to get into the truck.
I know people Ichabod...... You are a dead man....
Ichabod turns and rushes at Daniel, kicking him square in the face. He grabs his hair and holds him over the curb.
Now put your teeth on the fuckin curb. Put them on the curb now!
The man looks at Ichabod with some fear, but mostly disbelief. Ichabod reaches into his pants and pulls out a .44 pistol. He points it at Daniel, who hesitantly puts his mouth over the curb. Ichabod steps back and pulls his foot up, bringing it crashing down a mere inch from Daniel's head and manslaughter. Ichabod laughs insanely as he sees the tears well up in Daniel's eyes. He turns and walks back toward his truck smoothly slips into the real Ichabod once more. He looks around and sees Daniel laying on the street bawling. His brow furrows for a moment, then he shrugs it off. He grabs a bag from the passenger side of the truck and carries it over to Jecht's fence. Ichabod proceeds to take one thing out of the bag at a time and hang it on the fence.
First a set of brass knuckles.
Then an effigy of a wrestler he hoped Jecht would recognize.
A picture of two elderly people that he knew Jecht had known. He crosses himself before hanging the couple on the fence.
A poster from the first run of the mill in UWA.
A spray paint can that he uses to write nine letters on the curb. ORSRAWREV.
With this done, he unfolds a letter and places it on the fence. After he hangs it, he jumps in the truck and takes off toward whatever destination he has in mind.
Jecht
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