Inside the confines of Sinai Hospital, Ken Davison sits alone in room 473. It’s your standard hospital room with the tray table with the fake wood top, gray shelving, wooden door to a small closet that nobody ever uses. The most aggravating feature, at least for Ken Davison, is the chair normally reserved for visitors. That was the problem, he couldn’t have visitors. Due to the COVID restrictions put in place by Gov. Larry Hogan, Ken couldn’t have any visitors.

“Per the Governor’s order, visitation has been suspended. We apologize for any inconvenience.”

Sure, there were exceptions: the critically ill, mothers in labor, pediatric patients, patients in need of support, and patients at the end of life. According to Lifebridge Health, Ken Davison was none of those things. At this point, Ken had been admitted three days ago. Sitting under the standard plain white blankets and wearing a hideous blue hospital gown, he was feeling less than his best. At least he wasn’t alone in his solitude. Over Facebook, he was able to at least communicate with the outside world. At this moment, he was video chatting with Dorian and Chloe Hawkhurst.

“You know, if you need me to step in for you…” Dorian offers. Ken cuts him off before he can complete his sentence.

“I’m only here for observation. My doctor didn’t like something he heard and sent me here. After I had my heart attack, I’m at a higher risk for blah, blah, blah. I’m at the point where it’s like only God can help me now.”

“But you are God.” Chloe chimes in.

“You’ve trained her well, Dorian.” Ken says with a chuckle as Dorian tussles Chloe’s hair.

“In and out of the ring. The kid does all that flippy do bullshit, but from what I’ve seen, it’s effective. It’s like you taught me…”

“Any tactic that works,” the three complete the sentence synchronously.

“Hey, baby girl,” Dorian turns to Chloe.

“Yeah, Daddy?”

“Go grab your iPad. You’ve got Science in five minutes.”

Chloe lets out a sigh as she obviously doesn’t want to go to class.

“Now,” Dorian says as he gives her a stern look.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Chloe rolls her eyes while she answers her father.

“Thank you.”

Dorian looks on to make sure Chloe is actually doing what she’s supposed to. After a few moments, Dorian turns back to the camera and Ken.

“So, what’s going on, man?”

“I need to know whatever you can tell me about Pandaemonium.”

“Where do I begin?”

“Well,” Ken smirks, “Most people begin at the beginning.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Dorian pauses and takes a deep breath. “We’re about to go down the rabbit hole. You ready to max out your Weird Shit-o-meter?”

“Probably not, but let’s do this anyway.”

Dorian reaches off camera and grabs a pair of reading glasses. He takes a moment to adjust them before sliding a thick notebook over from the other side of the table. Dorian’s face changes to a look of complete seriousness.

“Before we get started, what is really going on with your heart?”

“I got sent here because my doctor wants a cardiologist to check my arrhythmia. It’s totally harmless, but since I’m new to the area and new to the doctor he wanted me checked out. It’s horseshit.”

“It had better be.”

Ken lets out a little chuckle.

“You sound just like Kyra.”

“When it comes to you, she certainly knows what’s up. Listen to her.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

Dorian points at the camera. “Don’t you dare Chloe me!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Chloe yells from the other room.

“Smartass,” Dorian yells back before turning his attention to his former teacher. “So, here’s the cliff notes version of SSRI.”

“Ready.”

Dorian opens the notebook, but doesn’t bother to look at it.

“SSRI – the Spirit Science Research Institute are based in Pierreia.”

“Peoria? Illinois?”

“Man, I don’t even know if Pierreia is a real place. Anyway, Pandaemonium, they used to be led by a couple named Elijah and Omega. Seems like they are out and now with the Institute, which is being led by Cassandra…”

“I’m going to kill that cunt!” Chloe practically roars from the other room.

“CHLOE VALENTINA HAWKHURST!!!” Dorian screams as Ken starts laughing his ass off. “What have I told you about the language?”

“Sorry,” Chloe drags out the word in the way only a child who knows they messed up can. “But she is!”

Dorian looks back at the screen and whispers “She’s not wrong.”

“So, give me the skinny on Incubitch and Succubitch, as you so eloquently call them.”

“Before we get there, you need to be aware of something. They aren’t an institute of any kind. That’s all a front. They are a cult that performs perverted science experiments on their disciples. Ever wonder why Su is so messed up?”

“Not really. I’ve just discovered some people in this business have their own shit going on and I need to focus on my shit.”

“Well, sometimes you need to look at the big picture.”

“I’m learning that.”

“So, remember how you were trying to start that whole cult thing before the pandemic shut down your recruiting process? Incubus and Succubus are exactly the kind of foot soldiers you would want in your army. They will follow Cassandra’s orders explicitly, without question and without regard for their personal well-being. Look at Succubus specifically. She literally throws herself into someone to set up Incubus for the kill. One other thing, the busses are like you and Kyra, although they don’t seem to be as open about it. Maybe, if you target one of them, you can piss the other one off.”

Ken’s gaze isn’t on his computer screen, but instead, he’s looking at his phone.

“Yo, Ken. Anyone home, man?” Dorian snaps his fingers while talking, trying his best to get Ken’s attention.

“Sorry. Thought I saw my phone light up. I was hoping it was Kyra. I haven’t seen her in four days. She was supposed to come by after my doctor’s appointment and my ass got sent here instead. I mean, I’ve talked to her, but it’s not the same.”

Ken turns back to Dorian with a look of longing.

“It’s like a drug. You know? It’s like no matter how much I have, I want more. I miss the feel of her touch, the smell of the shampoo in her hair. The worst part is I feel like I’m bothering her, even though she tells me I’m not.”

“You’re not. Trust me.”

“I know, brother. I know. She sent me this earlier: “Well as much as I might embarrass myself… I’ve missed you terribly and when we’re not talking I’m literally thinking about the next time we’ll speak. So never ever worry about bothering me cuz I don’t think you could ever come close.”

Ken wipes a couple of tears from his eyes.

“I just love the ordinary stuff.” Ken continues, “I love making dinner, taking a walk together, hell, I love going shopping with her.”

“Dude… shopping? I don’t even do that shit with Morgan. Shit, I don’t even like shopping when its for the kiddo.”

“Well, I guess it’s the ordinary things that make this extraordinary.”

“I supposed you’re right.” Dorian looks over for a minute. “Listen, man. I gotta run. Got to do that responsible parent thing and meet with Chloe’s Math teacher. You’ve done this long enough to do what you’ve gotta do against those Institute freaks. And, if for some reason you don’t get out, I’ve got you.”

“I appreciate it, sir.”

“Catch you later, man.”

Dorian’s picture cuts out and Ken shuts the laptop. He pulls his legs over the side of his hospital bed and onto the floor. He rocks side to side in an attempt to loosen up the muscles in his back. Breaking the silence, the chorus to Mz. Hyde by Halestorm plays. Ken reaches over and looks at the message on his phone.

“Look outside.”

Ken walks over to the window, being careful with the wires of his heart monitor. As instructed, he stands at the window and looks outside. Standing down in the parking lot is his beloved. Kyra holds her hand up in Ken’s general direction. Ken leans against the glass, holding his hand up, knowing that until he is released, this is the closest he will get to Kyra.

_________________________________________________________

Ken Davison sits on a black folding chair in a well-lit room. The wallpaper is designed to imitate a red crushed velvet. Davison stands, wearing a pair of black jeans and a Kyra Johnson t-shirt. (AVAILABLE AT THE CW SHOP FOR THE LOW, LOW PRICE OF $24.95!) Davison stands up and kicks the chair to the ground before speaking. 

“I cannot sit here and pretend to know the first thing about you Pandeamonium. In fact, up until this show was announced, you weren’t even on my radar. While you were busy anchoring Havoc, Kyra Johnson and I were busy headlining pay per views and serving as the gold standard for what every wrestler in this company should want to be. From a strictly professional standpoint, the only reason I give two shits about you is because you are the new number one contenders to the Carnage Wrestling Tag Team Championships. To be clear I want you to know that I am not undermining your talent. I’m just making sure that I hammer home and completely reinforce the level of talent that you will be competing against.”

“What I’m dying to know is do you even recognize the fact that you’re in a cult. Do you even recognize the situation that you are in? I mean who in the bluest blue hell’s intentionally sets out to hand over their freedom to something so toxic? I just don’t understand what this supposed institute offers you. Is the opportunity to destroy the  Forsaken that appealing? What did they even do to hurt your feelings other than offend Elijah and Omega, who from what I’ve been told aren’t even who you follow anymore?”

Davison stops and gives his words time to sink in. 

“That’s right. I’ve got friends on the inside. I know all about you. I know all about the Institute. I’ve heard it from my friends. I’ve heard it from my son. I know that every time that you decided to step up and actually confront the Forsaken head-on, your people have run, up and wit before that match can happen.  Even now, your fearless leader Cassandra is hiding behind you. She is cowering in fear at the thought of confronting an 11-year-old little girl.  A little girl whom she decided to hit so hard that you gave her a concussion when she was 9 years old. That is your leader. That is your role model. That is whom you choose to be associated with.  I want you to think about that because I sure as hell have a, believe me, it doesn’t exactly instill any kind of fear in me.”

“Most people feel that cults are traps for those who are weak-minded and, quite frankly, gullible. However, it has nothing to do with the kind of mind you possess, it has to do with your perspective. It’s the people that think it could never happen to them that are the most vulnerable. Do you really believe all the crap that Cassandra is spewing or is this some kind of ploy to try to make us feel like we are… I am trying to find the right word. I feel as though you believe that you’re better than us because of your association with the Institute. Pro tip: you’re not. I would know. At one point in time, I was the equivalent of your Cassandra. I know how this game works and I know the rules. You are mere pawns and right now, you are messing with the motherfucking king.”

While he is saying this, he points at his chest to drive home his point. He then turns his finger to the camera as though he is pointing at Incubus and Succubus.

“There are hundreds, probably thousands of documentaries about cults. Have you even picked up one book?  Have you watched one movie? What Cassandra is presenting to you is no different than what Charles Manson presented to his quote-unquote family. If you would have even one teacher that even glossed over the subject of what leads people down the path of zealotry, that causes people to join cults, perhaps you could have been saved. Instead, I fully expect this to be like that movie Midsommar when the two of you hit the age of 72 and take part in an ättestupa. You know that scene where the elders throw themselves off a cliff in ritual suicide? Probably not, I’d imagine Cassandra only lets you watch her propaganda. Anyway, I hope I’m still around so I can see which one of you gets mocked and then has your skull crushed by a giant mallet. Trust me, watch the movie. It’s good stuff.”

Ken does the cheesiest wink and a gun motion he can muster.

“Elijah and Omega lied to you from the get-go. That’s what cult leaders do. They always lie to their members about their true intentions. What makes you think that Cassandra is any different? What makes you think that you are so important to her.  Do you know why I called the two of you pawns? It’s not because I expect that one of you could become a Queen. Rather, it’s because you’re expendable.  Just because Cassandra allows you to sit at the proverbial table does not mean that you are getting a free dinner. It’s because she does not want to get her hands dirty. She wants you to do her dirty work. Not only does she want you to do her dirty work, but she also wants you to do it for free and that is exactly what she’s getting.”

“One thing that I’ve always prided myself on was telling the truth. The truth is that you both be should stand on your own two feet. I know Cassandra has gotten her hooks into you. Maybe you thought she was going to improve your life. Maybe you thought you were making this world a better place. I mean, who wouldn’t wanna make their life better? But she offers you nothing but lies. Now she seems like the type that would incrementally tell you the truth, albeit with her own spin to make it sound like it fits what your perception of good is. She’s only giving you the pills that you’ve been ready to swallow. Inch by inch, moment by moment, Cassandra is taking your free will away from you.”

Davison walks a few steps to his right, revealing one of his robes neatly hanging on a hook on the faux red velvet wall.

“It was not that long ago that I called myself “Godly” Ken Davison. I swore off that name and now I am starting to wonder if, perhaps, that was the wrong decision. I look at you, Incubus, and also at you, Succubus and I wonder. Did I make the right decision? I used to think of myself as some sort of wrestling God. Based on my resume, you could fairly say I’ve mostly lived up to that. However, I look at the two of you, and I know what a powerful motivator destroying someone else can be. I sought to destroy Amber Ryan and I did. I dreamt of making Jack Michaels suffer and I had a blast doing it. I beat him so badly, he developed a brain tumor.”

Davison shrugs knowing the absurdity of his statement.

“The only reason I bring up the ghost of Jack Michaels is because he tried to do to my love exactly what Cassandra is doing to you. He tried to dictate where, how, and with whom Kyra could associate with. He would manipulate her. He would impose his will upon her and make her feel like she was just along for the ride when she was supposed to be an equal partner. He made her feel like things had to be his way and that her opinion didn’t matter. I have seen what Jack Michaels has done to Kyra. The very same Cassandra is doing to you, He tried to control everyone around him all the service own selfish wants and needs.  You have internalized her doctrine. You’ve changed your name and identity. You are being controlled and you could do so much more.”

“Which brings me back to my original point. At one time I called myself “Godly” because I felt I was better than everyone else. Come Chaos 105, I am going to show the world that Kyra and I are still the baddest motherfuckers in Carnage Wrestling. However, I’ve been thinking that I need to resurrect my old moniker. Instead of trying to prove that I deserve the name by bringing everyone else to their knees. Perhaps I need to embrace all of the good attributes that are associated with a name like that. I will do that by either helping to cleanse the stain that Cassandra has left on you or by cleansing you from Carnage Wrestling before you can leave a stain on it. The choice, Pandaemonium, is yours.”

With that, Davison lowers his head and folds his hands in prayer as the picture fades to black.