Post by Rated R on Sept 3, 2018 14:11:59 GMT -5
Tyler Draven Presents
The In-Between
A Long Vacation
"Are you suspending me?"
A week after my last match. The WFWF Headquarters in Los Angeles.. Currently present, yours truly, Lila Sleater and Jason Anders.
It is not going well.
"We’re not suspending you Tyler…"
"Then what the f*** would you call it?"
"Tyler this is exactly the issue…"
"Oh f*** off Anders! No wonder Trace spoke about you like he wanted to rip your vocal chords out!"
"Tyler!"
Trying to control my anger, my rage, but it’s bubbling, right at the surface, has been for weeks now,. ever since that letter, ever since Trace’s parting words, running around in my mind like a god damn cancer.
You’re the monster now.
"I don’t know what’s happened but the past few weeks you’ve become a different person and this… well this is the final straw."
She slides a sheet of paper across to me, like she thinks she’s some shady business woman in an eighties movie. Or any politician nowadays. Not sure if the fact it’s on WFWF-headed paper makes it tackier or not. I skim my eyes over the contents and feel myself sink in my seat.
"You see how awkward a position this puts me in."
It’s an official complaint, detailing an incident that went down a month ago. An incident where I turned up at my uncle and aunt’s house demanding to see my sister in a… well, let’s just say aggressive manner. The report, made by my f*****g uncle of all people, says I turned up at his door, half-cut, screaming and shouting about seeing her, about how they were keeping me out of her life and probably Yellow Wallpapering her.
Never should have read that story. F**k Charlotte Perkins Gilman.
"You gonna give me the chance to explain myself, or we just taking things like this as gospel now?"
"Are you telling me this didn’t happen?"
"I’m telling you it didn’t happen how he said it happened."
It happened exactly how he said it happened.
"But it did happen?"
"It could have possibly happened. But-"
"No, no but’s, no explanations, I’m not interested. Christ Tyler, this is exactly what I’m talking about, this attitude, this shift. You’re a WFWF wrestler now, everything you do reflects on the company."
"You mean it reflects on you."
"Of course it reflects on me! I’m the one who gave you that contract, I’m the one who brought you in and supported you when the whole world thought you were just another Trace Demon wannabe. I supported you because I thought you wanted to be more than that!"
She’s frustrated, and I get it, honestly, I do. She bought into something that might not exist, but don’t go deluding yourself, she only did it because she thought she’d get something out of it. Only reason anyone does anything around here.
"It’s not just that. Anders tells me your general attitude over the past few weeks has deteriorated considerably. You’ve been drinking-"
"Drinking? Have you met half your roster?"
Drakz, Michael Kyzer, David Brennan, Phillip Schneider, Trace Demon, I mean I could basically name any former WFWF World Heavyweight Champion and you’d find a litany of druggies, alcoholics and at least one rapist. And she’s pulling me up because I’ve been drinking?
"They’re not the point here, you’re the point. I saw something in you Tyler, what you did to Trace… you did the right thing even though it was difficult, even though it hurt you to do it. But you did it because it was right. You could be something different for this company, something good, but the way you’ve been acting, the drinking, the attitude, it’s not what we need from you."
"I told you when this started that I wasn’t going to be some role model, some perfect example of what you want a WFWF wrestler to be. If that’s what you want then you’ve got the wrong guy."
"I don’t think I have. I think you’re exactly who I need you to be, you’re just a little rough around the edges. That’s the exact reason I assigned Anders to you."
Who lot of good the guy’s been. Only interested in the payslip so he can pay off his alimony and look after his daughter. Fair enough reasons to do a job, obviously, but don’t go kidding me that he’s in it for anyone but himself.
"Maybe we let you get into the ring too early after what happened with Trace, maybe it was too soon. Take a few shows off, get your head together and figure out what it is you want."
"Sounds an awful lot like a suspension to me."
"Whatever you want to call it Tyler, just take the time off and get your head on straight, because that’s the only way I convinced your uncle not to press charges against you and just deal with this through our own formal channels. Come back and remember the opportunity you’ve been given, remember the position your in and remember who it is that gave it to you. Get whatever this is out of your system, understand?"
"I understand."
More than you realise…
< *** >
Pillow Talk
I’ve been seeing this girl recently. And by recently I mean about six weeks. And by seeing I mean f*****g. Arisa Itsuki. She’s not my usual type, if I even have a type. Is ‘anyone willing to listen to you moan about your life’ a type? But she is a much needed distraction from everything going on, something I desperately need right now.
And yes, I’m telling you all this just to explain why I was lying naked next to a twenty year old asian girl when I received an alert from the WFWF app.
"They’re doing a f*****g title tournament without me!"
"A world title tournament?"
"No."
"An International title tournament?
"No."
"Then what title?"
"They’ve not announced what it’s called yet."
She glances at me like my whole complaint makes no sense, but the fact I’ve won three out of three and I’m not even being included in this thing? That’s bull. f***, I’ve still not been booked for a show since that meeting with Lila.
"When did you know so much about the titles anyway?"
"Well when someone complains about something as much as you do you pick a few things up. You know you’re much more fun to be around when you’re talking about literally anything else than fighting sweaty men."
And here I was thinking Asians were meant to be respectful. Must be drowned out by the fact she was raised in Michigan.
"You don’t get it…"
"What, that you’re all hung up on what everyone else thinks of you? My family threatened to disown me if I came out to Los Angeles, but here I am, here, with you, pretty much going against everything they would have wanted for me. So don’t act like I wouldn’t get it, bakayarou."
"Sorry, I’m just… I’m p****d off! I did some messed up stuff to even get a chance to work for the WFWF, and I faced the consequences. And now it’s like I’m just being brushed to the side because keeping me around isn’t convenient or something. It’s messed up."
"Life’s messed up, you deal with it."
She gets out of bed, starts getting dressed.
"Where are you going?"
"I’ve got more interesting things to do that lie here and listen to you whine. I like you Tyler, but next time you call me make sure you’re not still obsessing over something that you haven’t done kuso to deal with. You don’t want to be some weird business woman’s pet project? Then don’t, but know who you want to be, because I’m not wasting my time with some lost little boy."
Minutes later I’m alone, which is the one thing I’ve been trying to avoid for months. I don’t like my own company, because Arisa is right, I don’t know what I want to be, I don’t even know who I am. I keep saying I bashed Trace’s brains in because it was the right thing to do, and I still believe that, but a part of me liked it, a part of me wanted to do it so I could get a chance in that ring. And the moment I start thinking that I end up in a black hole inside my own mind, wondering who the hell I’m meant to be.
And then a memory surfaces, bubbles up to the top of the mess of thoughts floating around, and things start to make sense a little.
I lost my virginity when I was fourteen, with this girl I’d known since first grade. We’d been drinking and we ended up fumbling our way into each others pants. Didn’t last long, and I couldn’t even tell you if it was good for her, because c’mon, I was fourteen and I was from this respectable suburban family who don’t talk about sex. Not to mention she wasn’t a virgin and I was, which meant in my mind she already knew what good sex felt like.
When we were lying there, my head spinning, she started crying. Let me tell you I didn’t know the first thing to do with that other than get extremely defensive, because obviously the first thing that came to my head was it was so bad it had brought the girl to tears. But no, turned out that the reason this girl wasn’t a virgin was because her dad had a thing for sneaking into her room at night, and that her mom knew all about it and didn’t do a thing.
People make me sick.
So I comfort her, reassure her the best I can, tell her all these lies about how it’ll be alright and that she just needs to tell someone who’ll actually do something about it, promise her I won’t say anything until she’s ready. Then the next night, when I know she and her family are gonna be out, I march round there with a mask over my face because I think I’m tough and I take my dad’s baseball bat to her dad’s car. Only he’s not out with them, and he hears this going down and comes marching out the house planning to kick the holy hell out of me. Now I could’ve run, because there was no way he’d know it was me and because even back then I could sprint faster than anybody else I knew. But I didn’t.
Instead I swung the bat right at his face. Hit him right in the jaw, took a few teeth out. And I kept swinging. Think it was four shots, in total, but I couldn’t tell you for sure. I left him there, in a puddle of blood and bone, because I thought he deserved it. Didn’t think of the fact that his wife, his daughter, people he’d messed up so much, would find him. Didn’t think of the consequences of what I did, of what might happen to me. Because he deserved it, and I’d done the right thing, and I thought everyone else would recognise that.
Nobody ever had to. He went to the police, and sooner or late I think they’d have figured out it was me. But then his daughter told them what he was, what he’d done to her, and suddenly everyone forgot about the fact he’d just been beaten half to death by a fourteen year old with a baseball bat. And why?
Because he deserved it. Because I’d done the right thing, even though it was a f****d up thing to do.
I’ve never told anybody what I’ve done, and I never will, because I’m not stupid enough to think I’m above the law just because I did something right.
But sometimes its important to remind myself that sometimes you have to face up to the difficult truth that the right thing isn’t always easy. Sometimes the right thing is difficult, sometimes the right thing is messed up, but I’m the kind of person who will do it, regardless. I beat Trace’s brains in because nobody else would. I beat that girls dad’s brains in because I didn’t want her to eventually get his blood on her hands.
Leaving my sister with my uncle and aunt, that’s the right thing to do, for now, even if it hurts to be alone, to not be wanted my own flesh and blood even when I’m doing all this for her. Holding my anger inside, keeping my attitude under control, that’s the right thing to do, even if it eats me up inside. Going along with what Lila wants, that’s the right thing to do, because it lets me do something I couldn’t any other way.
I pick up the phone and dial.
"Anders… yeah, I’m ready to come back… yeah, I’ve got my head on straight… promise."
Demons honour.
< *** >
"Did you miss me? After all, three shows in this business may as well be an eternity, especially for someone like me. See I was flying high, three wins from three matches and then, just like that, I’m gone, vanished, out of sight, out of mind. Not quite though, right? Because I’m not that easy to forget. After all, I’m the man that vanquished Trace Demon. That’s why you remember me, isn’t it? Not because I’ve won my first three matches, not because I’ve done it fair and square, but because of the effects of my world stage debut". Come on, we all know what you’re talking about… seems that’s all anybody wants to talk about. Well I’m done talking about Trace Demon. I’m here to talk about the here and now, I’m here to talk about Sean Casey.
See Sean, you got an opportunity that realistically should’ve been mine. If I hadn’t been out of action so to speak then you better damn believe that I would’ve been in the World Domination Tournament. You know it and I know it. Further still, if I’d been in it, you wouldn’t have been. See you were just taking up my spot, that’s the only reason you were there, it’s the only reason you were ever asked back. And what did you go and do? What happened with my spot? You wasted it. You lost to Joe Bishop’s trainee. You lost to a guy called Shuggy. Come on man, could that be any more humiliating if you tried?
Now don’t get me wrong, I’ve seen you in action before and I know what you can bring to that ring, so I’m not underestimating you, but you better believe that I’m pretty damn p****d off that my spot in the tournament got wasted on somebody like you. Somebody who disappeared of his own accord and then came back and stepped right into the shoes of somebody who actually deserved it. And then there’s me, somebody who does the right thing, fights the good fight no matter how hard it is, and I get sent on a long vacation and left out of what could have been the most important moment of my career. But we can’t dwell on the past, we can’t look backwards, we can only move on. And that’s exactly what I’m gonna do, at your expense.
See Sean I’m coming into this match with more to prove than ever. To those fans, to Lila Sleater, to the WFWF roster and to myself, and right now you’re standing in my way. As far as I’m concerned you’ve taken my spot once and I’m not gonna let it happen again, which means I’ve got to take you out of the equation. Which means beating you so badly that nobody will ever think of putting us even close to the same par again. So Sean, you call yourself the Violent Gentleman, well there’s nothing gentlemanly about what I’m gonna do to you.
The violent bit though? Well, I think we both know what way that’s gonna go, and it sure as hell ain’t in your favour.
< *** >
P.S.
Months ago, mere weeks after Trace Demon was put into a coma by the actions of Tyler Draven. Elinor Nix sits in her office, staring down at a box that was recently delivered, addressed to her in Trace Demon’s unmistakable scrawl. Inside is a folder, as well as letters addressed to numerous people. Her eyes were drawn immediately to one with her own name on it. The letter within, handwritten, was again clearly written by Trace.
Elinor, if you’re reading this then it means everything I expected to happen has happened. Either I’ve taken myself off the grid and you’re wondering where the hell I am or I’m indisposed, preferably not permanently or all this would have been for nothing. Cryptic, I know, but would you expect anything less?
In this box you’ll find letters. I need you to deliver them, personally. Consider it my last will and testament, unless I’m actually dead in which case hide the bodies and bury the gold. You’re the only person I trust to do this, because you’re the only one I trust not to make things personal. You’re about the business, and I respect that more than you knew. Look at me, getting all mushy, I’d be rolling in my grave, unless I’m in one, in which case you should have cremated me.
The only exception is Tyler. There’s two letters here, and I need you to decide when to give them to him. You’ll know why when you read the enclosed file. The first one should be given to him sometime in the new few months, once he’s got a few wins under his belt. I want to make sure he’s riding a high before we bring him back down to Earth. You’ll know the moment.
The second… well, that’s my masterpiece. I want you to read the file, then open Tyler’s second letter and read it. Then you’ll know exactly when to give it to him. Everything’s been building to this, everything I’ve done for the past year, and it only works if you help me. I know you will, you never could resist a challenge.
Elinor put the letter down, not bothering to read the rest. She’d do so later, when she had her head wrapped around all this. Instead she help up the two letters addressed to Tyler Draven and wondered only one thing.
What the hell was Trace Demon up to now?
The In-Between
A Long Vacation
"Are you suspending me?"
A week after my last match. The WFWF Headquarters in Los Angeles.. Currently present, yours truly, Lila Sleater and Jason Anders.
It is not going well.
"We’re not suspending you Tyler…"
"Then what the f*** would you call it?"
"Tyler this is exactly the issue…"
"Oh f*** off Anders! No wonder Trace spoke about you like he wanted to rip your vocal chords out!"
"Tyler!"
Trying to control my anger, my rage, but it’s bubbling, right at the surface, has been for weeks now,. ever since that letter, ever since Trace’s parting words, running around in my mind like a god damn cancer.
You’re the monster now.
"I don’t know what’s happened but the past few weeks you’ve become a different person and this… well this is the final straw."
She slides a sheet of paper across to me, like she thinks she’s some shady business woman in an eighties movie. Or any politician nowadays. Not sure if the fact it’s on WFWF-headed paper makes it tackier or not. I skim my eyes over the contents and feel myself sink in my seat.
"You see how awkward a position this puts me in."
It’s an official complaint, detailing an incident that went down a month ago. An incident where I turned up at my uncle and aunt’s house demanding to see my sister in a… well, let’s just say aggressive manner. The report, made by my f*****g uncle of all people, says I turned up at his door, half-cut, screaming and shouting about seeing her, about how they were keeping me out of her life and probably Yellow Wallpapering her.
Never should have read that story. F**k Charlotte Perkins Gilman.
"You gonna give me the chance to explain myself, or we just taking things like this as gospel now?"
"Are you telling me this didn’t happen?"
"I’m telling you it didn’t happen how he said it happened."
It happened exactly how he said it happened.
"But it did happen?"
"It could have possibly happened. But-"
"No, no but’s, no explanations, I’m not interested. Christ Tyler, this is exactly what I’m talking about, this attitude, this shift. You’re a WFWF wrestler now, everything you do reflects on the company."
"You mean it reflects on you."
"Of course it reflects on me! I’m the one who gave you that contract, I’m the one who brought you in and supported you when the whole world thought you were just another Trace Demon wannabe. I supported you because I thought you wanted to be more than that!"
She’s frustrated, and I get it, honestly, I do. She bought into something that might not exist, but don’t go deluding yourself, she only did it because she thought she’d get something out of it. Only reason anyone does anything around here.
"It’s not just that. Anders tells me your general attitude over the past few weeks has deteriorated considerably. You’ve been drinking-"
"Drinking? Have you met half your roster?"
Drakz, Michael Kyzer, David Brennan, Phillip Schneider, Trace Demon, I mean I could basically name any former WFWF World Heavyweight Champion and you’d find a litany of druggies, alcoholics and at least one rapist. And she’s pulling me up because I’ve been drinking?
"They’re not the point here, you’re the point. I saw something in you Tyler, what you did to Trace… you did the right thing even though it was difficult, even though it hurt you to do it. But you did it because it was right. You could be something different for this company, something good, but the way you’ve been acting, the drinking, the attitude, it’s not what we need from you."
"I told you when this started that I wasn’t going to be some role model, some perfect example of what you want a WFWF wrestler to be. If that’s what you want then you’ve got the wrong guy."
"I don’t think I have. I think you’re exactly who I need you to be, you’re just a little rough around the edges. That’s the exact reason I assigned Anders to you."
Who lot of good the guy’s been. Only interested in the payslip so he can pay off his alimony and look after his daughter. Fair enough reasons to do a job, obviously, but don’t go kidding me that he’s in it for anyone but himself.
"Maybe we let you get into the ring too early after what happened with Trace, maybe it was too soon. Take a few shows off, get your head together and figure out what it is you want."
"Sounds an awful lot like a suspension to me."
"Whatever you want to call it Tyler, just take the time off and get your head on straight, because that’s the only way I convinced your uncle not to press charges against you and just deal with this through our own formal channels. Come back and remember the opportunity you’ve been given, remember the position your in and remember who it is that gave it to you. Get whatever this is out of your system, understand?"
"I understand."
More than you realise…
< *** >
Pillow Talk
I’ve been seeing this girl recently. And by recently I mean about six weeks. And by seeing I mean f*****g. Arisa Itsuki. She’s not my usual type, if I even have a type. Is ‘anyone willing to listen to you moan about your life’ a type? But she is a much needed distraction from everything going on, something I desperately need right now.
And yes, I’m telling you all this just to explain why I was lying naked next to a twenty year old asian girl when I received an alert from the WFWF app.
"They’re doing a f*****g title tournament without me!"
"A world title tournament?"
"No."
"An International title tournament?
"No."
"Then what title?"
"They’ve not announced what it’s called yet."
She glances at me like my whole complaint makes no sense, but the fact I’ve won three out of three and I’m not even being included in this thing? That’s bull. f***, I’ve still not been booked for a show since that meeting with Lila.
"When did you know so much about the titles anyway?"
"Well when someone complains about something as much as you do you pick a few things up. You know you’re much more fun to be around when you’re talking about literally anything else than fighting sweaty men."
And here I was thinking Asians were meant to be respectful. Must be drowned out by the fact she was raised in Michigan.
"You don’t get it…"
"What, that you’re all hung up on what everyone else thinks of you? My family threatened to disown me if I came out to Los Angeles, but here I am, here, with you, pretty much going against everything they would have wanted for me. So don’t act like I wouldn’t get it, bakayarou."
"Sorry, I’m just… I’m p****d off! I did some messed up stuff to even get a chance to work for the WFWF, and I faced the consequences. And now it’s like I’m just being brushed to the side because keeping me around isn’t convenient or something. It’s messed up."
"Life’s messed up, you deal with it."
She gets out of bed, starts getting dressed.
"Where are you going?"
"I’ve got more interesting things to do that lie here and listen to you whine. I like you Tyler, but next time you call me make sure you’re not still obsessing over something that you haven’t done kuso to deal with. You don’t want to be some weird business woman’s pet project? Then don’t, but know who you want to be, because I’m not wasting my time with some lost little boy."
Minutes later I’m alone, which is the one thing I’ve been trying to avoid for months. I don’t like my own company, because Arisa is right, I don’t know what I want to be, I don’t even know who I am. I keep saying I bashed Trace’s brains in because it was the right thing to do, and I still believe that, but a part of me liked it, a part of me wanted to do it so I could get a chance in that ring. And the moment I start thinking that I end up in a black hole inside my own mind, wondering who the hell I’m meant to be.
And then a memory surfaces, bubbles up to the top of the mess of thoughts floating around, and things start to make sense a little.
I lost my virginity when I was fourteen, with this girl I’d known since first grade. We’d been drinking and we ended up fumbling our way into each others pants. Didn’t last long, and I couldn’t even tell you if it was good for her, because c’mon, I was fourteen and I was from this respectable suburban family who don’t talk about sex. Not to mention she wasn’t a virgin and I was, which meant in my mind she already knew what good sex felt like.
When we were lying there, my head spinning, she started crying. Let me tell you I didn’t know the first thing to do with that other than get extremely defensive, because obviously the first thing that came to my head was it was so bad it had brought the girl to tears. But no, turned out that the reason this girl wasn’t a virgin was because her dad had a thing for sneaking into her room at night, and that her mom knew all about it and didn’t do a thing.
People make me sick.
So I comfort her, reassure her the best I can, tell her all these lies about how it’ll be alright and that she just needs to tell someone who’ll actually do something about it, promise her I won’t say anything until she’s ready. Then the next night, when I know she and her family are gonna be out, I march round there with a mask over my face because I think I’m tough and I take my dad’s baseball bat to her dad’s car. Only he’s not out with them, and he hears this going down and comes marching out the house planning to kick the holy hell out of me. Now I could’ve run, because there was no way he’d know it was me and because even back then I could sprint faster than anybody else I knew. But I didn’t.
Instead I swung the bat right at his face. Hit him right in the jaw, took a few teeth out. And I kept swinging. Think it was four shots, in total, but I couldn’t tell you for sure. I left him there, in a puddle of blood and bone, because I thought he deserved it. Didn’t think of the fact that his wife, his daughter, people he’d messed up so much, would find him. Didn’t think of the consequences of what I did, of what might happen to me. Because he deserved it, and I’d done the right thing, and I thought everyone else would recognise that.
Nobody ever had to. He went to the police, and sooner or late I think they’d have figured out it was me. But then his daughter told them what he was, what he’d done to her, and suddenly everyone forgot about the fact he’d just been beaten half to death by a fourteen year old with a baseball bat. And why?
Because he deserved it. Because I’d done the right thing, even though it was a f****d up thing to do.
I’ve never told anybody what I’ve done, and I never will, because I’m not stupid enough to think I’m above the law just because I did something right.
But sometimes its important to remind myself that sometimes you have to face up to the difficult truth that the right thing isn’t always easy. Sometimes the right thing is difficult, sometimes the right thing is messed up, but I’m the kind of person who will do it, regardless. I beat Trace’s brains in because nobody else would. I beat that girls dad’s brains in because I didn’t want her to eventually get his blood on her hands.
Leaving my sister with my uncle and aunt, that’s the right thing to do, for now, even if it hurts to be alone, to not be wanted my own flesh and blood even when I’m doing all this for her. Holding my anger inside, keeping my attitude under control, that’s the right thing to do, even if it eats me up inside. Going along with what Lila wants, that’s the right thing to do, because it lets me do something I couldn’t any other way.
I pick up the phone and dial.
"Anders… yeah, I’m ready to come back… yeah, I’ve got my head on straight… promise."
Demons honour.
< *** >
"Did you miss me? After all, three shows in this business may as well be an eternity, especially for someone like me. See I was flying high, three wins from three matches and then, just like that, I’m gone, vanished, out of sight, out of mind. Not quite though, right? Because I’m not that easy to forget. After all, I’m the man that vanquished Trace Demon. That’s why you remember me, isn’t it? Not because I’ve won my first three matches, not because I’ve done it fair and square, but because of the effects of my world stage debut". Come on, we all know what you’re talking about… seems that’s all anybody wants to talk about. Well I’m done talking about Trace Demon. I’m here to talk about the here and now, I’m here to talk about Sean Casey.
See Sean, you got an opportunity that realistically should’ve been mine. If I hadn’t been out of action so to speak then you better damn believe that I would’ve been in the World Domination Tournament. You know it and I know it. Further still, if I’d been in it, you wouldn’t have been. See you were just taking up my spot, that’s the only reason you were there, it’s the only reason you were ever asked back. And what did you go and do? What happened with my spot? You wasted it. You lost to Joe Bishop’s trainee. You lost to a guy called Shuggy. Come on man, could that be any more humiliating if you tried?
Now don’t get me wrong, I’ve seen you in action before and I know what you can bring to that ring, so I’m not underestimating you, but you better believe that I’m pretty damn p****d off that my spot in the tournament got wasted on somebody like you. Somebody who disappeared of his own accord and then came back and stepped right into the shoes of somebody who actually deserved it. And then there’s me, somebody who does the right thing, fights the good fight no matter how hard it is, and I get sent on a long vacation and left out of what could have been the most important moment of my career. But we can’t dwell on the past, we can’t look backwards, we can only move on. And that’s exactly what I’m gonna do, at your expense.
See Sean I’m coming into this match with more to prove than ever. To those fans, to Lila Sleater, to the WFWF roster and to myself, and right now you’re standing in my way. As far as I’m concerned you’ve taken my spot once and I’m not gonna let it happen again, which means I’ve got to take you out of the equation. Which means beating you so badly that nobody will ever think of putting us even close to the same par again. So Sean, you call yourself the Violent Gentleman, well there’s nothing gentlemanly about what I’m gonna do to you.
The violent bit though? Well, I think we both know what way that’s gonna go, and it sure as hell ain’t in your favour.
< *** >
P.S.
Months ago, mere weeks after Trace Demon was put into a coma by the actions of Tyler Draven. Elinor Nix sits in her office, staring down at a box that was recently delivered, addressed to her in Trace Demon’s unmistakable scrawl. Inside is a folder, as well as letters addressed to numerous people. Her eyes were drawn immediately to one with her own name on it. The letter within, handwritten, was again clearly written by Trace.
Elinor, if you’re reading this then it means everything I expected to happen has happened. Either I’ve taken myself off the grid and you’re wondering where the hell I am or I’m indisposed, preferably not permanently or all this would have been for nothing. Cryptic, I know, but would you expect anything less?
In this box you’ll find letters. I need you to deliver them, personally. Consider it my last will and testament, unless I’m actually dead in which case hide the bodies and bury the gold. You’re the only person I trust to do this, because you’re the only one I trust not to make things personal. You’re about the business, and I respect that more than you knew. Look at me, getting all mushy, I’d be rolling in my grave, unless I’m in one, in which case you should have cremated me.
The only exception is Tyler. There’s two letters here, and I need you to decide when to give them to him. You’ll know why when you read the enclosed file. The first one should be given to him sometime in the new few months, once he’s got a few wins under his belt. I want to make sure he’s riding a high before we bring him back down to Earth. You’ll know the moment.
The second… well, that’s my masterpiece. I want you to read the file, then open Tyler’s second letter and read it. Then you’ll know exactly when to give it to him. Everything’s been building to this, everything I’ve done for the past year, and it only works if you help me. I know you will, you never could resist a challenge.
Elinor put the letter down, not bothering to read the rest. She’d do so later, when she had her head wrapped around all this. Instead she help up the two letters addressed to Tyler Draven and wondered only one thing.
What the hell was Trace Demon up to now?
I dont know good luck