“My, my.. You’re looking chipper this morning.”

A young lady mused as she stepped into a darkened room, stepping past its occupant and towards a window on the far side. As she pulls the curtains open, revealing the bright morning light – a much softer, almost breathy voice responds.

“It’s a lovely day.”

“It does look like it’s going to be a beautiful day. Are you ready to have some breakfast?”

A head full of graying hair nods as the younger woman turns around, a smile on her lips.

“I’d love some. I want to be ready before–”

“Before?”

The older lady nods once more, her lips parting into a sunny smile – Almost as sunny as the beams of morning light illuminating the room they both stand in.

“I’m expecting a visitor today.”

She states, her chest puffing out, full of pride and excitement.

“Oh, really? No wonder you’re up and at ‘em already this morning.”

The young woman moves towards the room’s occupant, and looks down at her with a tinge of uncertainty, laying a hand softly on her shoulder.

“Let’s get you ready for your visitor, huh?”

But instead of rising to her feet, the older lady pushes her messy curls out of her face and beams up at the woman standing over her.

“You probably know who she is, she’s pretty famous you know.”

Eyebrows raise in surprise, and instead of urging the older lady to stand and move, she opts to take a seat beside her and leans in, her curiosity taking over at this moment.

“Well, I don’t know. Maybe I do.”

“She’s a famous wrestler. Sometimes you see her on the TV in the rec room, that is when it’s on the right channel.”

“A famous wrestler, huh? I know a few. What’s her name?”

A bit of pink rises to the wrinkled cheeks of the older lady as her eyes meet the other womans.

“Her name is Lucy Wylde.”

“You know Lucy Wylde? Wow.”

The older lady keeps speaking, like she isn’t even aware that anyone is in the room with her anymore.

“She comes to see me and makes sure I’m okay. And to tell me what is going on in her life. Things are going really great for her, you know.”

The other woman nods her head.

“Yeah?”

And the older lady nods eagerly in return.

“Oh, yes. She’s very happy now that she is dating Mr. Rogan. Frankly, I don’t know that I have ever seen Lucy so happy.”

She sits back, her faded blue eyes looking off into the distance before she lets out a chuckle and finally she turns to glance at the younger woman.

“Why just the other day she was telling me about their latest adventure…”

 

“Rogan…”

“Yeah?”

Lucy looks around the seemingly barren wasteland that sits around the two of them – the only thing she can see in the distance amid the drab, lifeless green vegetation and the barely surviving wheat fields that extend out far beyond what she can see – is a house. Small, and a much deeper shade of dreary than everything that’s around it.

She turns her attention back to Rogan and all she can do is simply shrug her shoulders.

“…Where in the fuck are we?”

And in response, Rogan smirks as he himself glances out upon the land that surrounds them – however the look in his eyes is one of enchantment, of thrill and motivation.

“I told you that I wanted to experience what it was like back in those days, living off the land and–”

“I didn’t think you’d be bringing us to… What is this, the fucking stone ages? Christ…”

Lucy glances down at herself, realizing that she’s not only in a foreign place, but she’s also no longer wearing the clothes she’d been wearing before she and Rogan climbed into the Buick and set out on this journey.

“And what the hell is this?!”

She motions to the long, bland dress – seemingly colored with dirt and God only knows what else. She pulls on the apron that’s tied around her waist and lets it drop, if only for effect while Rogan chuckles.

“You look beautiful.”

“I look like a handmaiden.”

“…Like always.”

A bit of pink rises to Lucy’s cheeks as she tries to maintain her grumpy demeanor.

“You’re charming, I get it. But that doesn’t change that I’m dressed in a fucking sheet. I feel like I should find the nearest cow and get to milking.”

Rogan’s continued chuckles eventually cause Lucy’s scowl to break. He reaches a hand out for her, and she accepts – the two making their way towards the house in the distance.

“So.. Why here? Why now?”

Lucy asks, taking a cursory glance over at Rogan, watching his face as she awaits an answer. At first, the Dark Man shrugs – as if to say he wasn’t sure. His face looks thoughtful, however and eventually, the shrug is followed by a cough as he clears his throat.

“There’s just something about it. It’s hard to put into words. I’ve traveled to times like these, I’ve seen the hardships these people went through, but I never stopped long enough to truly experience it. And something tells me that… Maybe I should.”

As they get closer to the house, a few gunshots can be heard in the distance. Not close enough to warrant any alarm, but not far enough away that they aren’t noticed. Lucy turns her head and looks behind them, off in the direction of the shots and she shakes her head.

“It does make you think, doesn’t it?”

Rogan nods his head.

“We live pretty comfortable lives, and even though our own hardships aren’t negated by anything anyone else experiences or has experienced…”

He motions around them, his gaze resting on Lucy’s face as she turns her head to look up at him.

“…But this experience, I believe, will put them into perspective.”

“Leave it to you to find the most dangerous situation possible in order to find perspective.”

Rogan scoffs.

“This is nowhere near the most dangerous situation I could have brought us to.”

Lucy snickers, as they finally make it to the front porch of the house. Now that they’re in front of it, somehow it looks even smaller than it appeared to them in the distance. But Lucy, figuring that if they’re here to find perspective, she might as well immerse herself in the role – so she releases Rogan’s arm and takes a few tentative steps onto the front porch and turns around to face the Dark Man.

It’s at this moment, Lucy gets the chance to take in the garb in which Rogan is adorned. Like her own outfit, he’s covered head to toe in the most depressing brown color. Shirt, pants, dirt encrusted boots and on top of his head, a wide brimmed hat that somehow gave him even more of an air of mystery than he already has.

“Ridiculous.”

Lucy says, shaking her head.

“What?”

Another barrage of gunshots goes off in the distance, garnering the attention of the two of them. Rogan climbs the steps, coming to stand beside Lucy on the porch.

“I was gonna say it’s ridiculous how you still look so good dressed in literal rags. But..”

She points off into the distance where they heard the gunfire.

“..It seems like we’ve got more pressing matters.”

“It’s still pretty far off in the distance.”

Lucy nods, but her face tells the story of someone who’s not reassured.

“If I’ve learned anything about war.. It’s that it doesn’t stay away for very long.”

 

“…So… You’re telling me that this Rogan… He travels through dimensions? And he took the two of them to a war… in the past? In another dimension?”

The older lady nods her head, looking very pleased with the story she’s told thus far.

“He’s handsome. But not too handsome. He makes Lucy happy, and that’s all that matters. Just kind of handsome, you know?”

“I.. I know. But what about.. Do you know where they were? That had to have been completely dangerous, being in a warzone.”

The young woman shakes her head as she tries to wrap her mind around the story, and furthermore, why two people would knowingly travel to such a tumultuous place simply to experience the hardships. But before she could follow her thoughts to fruition, the older woman pats her on the leg and closes her eyes, smiling.

“All I know, Nancy, is that they were in for quite a surprise. They had friends there…”

Nancy’s eyebrows raise in surprise as she once more leans closer.

“Friends? What does that mean?”

But the older woman doesn’t answer right away, a vacant expression covering her face before she suddenly snaps back into the conversation and looks surprised to see Nancy still seated in front of her, watching her intently.

“Did I mention that Rogan has a Buick? That’s how he gets from place to place.”

“A Buick?”

“We had an old Chevy. Nothing quite so nice as a Buick. But it got us from point A to point B, and that’s all that matters.”

The old lady gave Nancy a firm nod, looking proud of herself.

“That’s true..”

Nancy said cautiously, wanting to guide this conversation back to the story – and not quite sure if she would be able to.

“..But you were just talking about Lucy’s friends? Where were they?”

As if the pages within the fading mind of the older lady had gotten turned back to the correct page, she shook her head – a look of terror crossing her worn features.

“They.. They were facing fear.”

 

Two young men crouched behind a fallen tree as gunfire peppered the wood behind them. One of the men struggled to reload his firearm – his grizzled features turned downward into a grimace as his callused hands fumble the clip, nearly dropping it. The other sat, hunched over with his hands clasped above his head wishing for a reprieve from the constant aggression coming at them from what feels like all directions.

“Hey Nate? NATE! You’re gonna get us both killed if you don’t stop–”

“I ain’t the one that’s going to get us killed!”

The man who’d been hunched over, looks over at his comrade and points towards the source of the gunfire.

“If you haven’t noticed Tony… they’re the ones firing at us!”

The first man finally gets his firearm loaded and shoots a glare at his ‘buddy’ Nate before turning his body and laying the barrel of the gun on top of the downed tree.

“No shit, Sherlock! But if you don’t get outta your own head, you’re gonna make it even easier for ‘em to come on over here and filet the both of us!”

Tony gets up onto his knees, and peers over the wood, aiming his gun at their enemies. He fires a few shots, which does nothing more than increase the intensity and the amount of gunfire that’s directed back at them. He drops down and practically lays his face in the dirt beneath him, trying to get his heavy breathing under control.

Finally, he takes another glance across at Nate, who is simply staring at his own firearm as it rests in his lap.

“Listen, Nate… I know this is bad. I know there ain’t much chance in us gettin out of here in one piece, but we gotta try, you know? Maybe we can’t stop ‘em, but we can make it harder for em to get what they want. I need you, pal.”

Nate’s eyes slowly come up to meet Tony’s and he nods his head solemnly.

“You’re right. I just.. I didn’t expect none of this, you know?”

Tony nods his head in response, his eyes turning downward.

“I know. But you gotta think about it this way. You want them to win? You want them to just trample everything we worked so hard to build and take it all for themselves? We might not be the best out there, but we gotta make our stand… And you know what? If we make it outta this hell hole? We might just make a difference. But no one can make that choice for you. Don’t let ‘em tell you what you can achieve.. Only you can make that choice.”

With that, Tony gets back up onto his knees again and reaims his firearm towards the enemy.

“I know I ain’t gonna stop til they put me in the ground. They ain’t no better than me and I know that shit. I’m gonna make damn sure they know it too.”

Nate simply watches as Tony begins firing back, the intensity on his face growing with every single shot. His words echo through the young man’s head, over and over.. Until before he realizes it, his hand is clenched upon his own gun. He looks down, surprised at the surge of adrenaline he feels coursing through his veins and when Tony glances over – Nate furrows his brow and nods.

“They ain’t going to take my shot away from me.”

He turns around, and positions his gun up on the wood and aims down the sight.

“Ain’t going to take away my chance for a better life.”

“That’s right, you tell those sons of bitches Nate.”

Nate fires one shot, and then two. After a few seconds, both he and Tony are yelling and firing all they have at the enemy. Both of them fall back after a few minutes, reloading their guns but when they turn back to continue their assault, they see something… or someone dart between two trees very near to their position.

“Tony! What was–”

“I saw it too. We’re compromised. We need to move.”

Nate acknowledges Tony’s words and the two begin crawling away from whatever it was that they saw.

But unbeknownst to them, the soldier known only as fear was stalking them. They beeline to a nearby hill, and he snakes his way around the opposite side. They continue backing out of the dense forest, and Fear has already flanked them from behind.

As the pair take a moment behind an abandoned horse buggy to catch their breath and reload, Nate glances up to see the same dark figure hovering behind a nearby tree – doing very little to disguise himself. He can easily make out two almost glowing eyes amid a completely darkened face – and the moment they make eye contact, Nate’s heart nearly stops.

“Tony…”

Tony, having been focused on his gun, hasn’t seen what Nate has. But as Nate gets his attention and his eyes flicker upwards, it’s too late as a single shot rings out–

“NATE!!”

–And Nate goes down with a whimper.

Without a second thought, Tony begins firing at the dark figure as he places himself in front of Nate. Tony cannot be sure, but he thinks at least one of his shots hit its mark as he watches the dark figure stagger away, back into the forest with which he came. Tony kept his eyes trained on those woods until he was sure that no one else was there, before he turns his attention to Nate, who’s holding his shoulder in agony.

“Nate! Are you okay?”

“I’m not dead… If that’s what you’re asking.”

Tony’s attention moves to the wound, and the blood that’s all over Nate’s hand, and his battle fatigues – the red spot growing with every passing second. Tony doesn’t waste any time as he removes his own jacket and presses it into the wound.

“Ahh!”

“You have to keep pressure on it. Can you walk?”

Tony doesn’t wait for an answer as he grabs Nate and pulls him up to his feet.

“We need to find shelter, and a way of getting that bullet out.”

Nate nods his head.

“I’m in no position to disagree.”

With Nate on one arm, and their supplies on the other, Tony began moving away from the woods, and towards a wheatfield in the distance – and what appears to be a house with smoke coming out of the chimney.

 

Nancy looks on in disbelief.

“You’re kidding, right?”

Meanwhile, the old lady simply mumbles something to herself as she peers out the window, watching as the other residents of this place are getting their own starts to their days.

“I’m no clown.”

“What?”

Nancy tilts her head to the side, confused.

“There’s no clowns here, right? I.. I don’t like clowns.”

The old lady shudders. Nancy shakes her head.

“No, no clowns. Promise.”

The older woman heaves a sigh of relief.

“Lucy works with clowns. Did you know that? They’re not very nice. One of them is colorful, the other is black and white.”

“No… I didn’t know that. But.. what about Lucy’s friends? The ones you said were there in the past with her… How’d they get there?”

Nancy had other duties to attend to this morning, and deep in the recesses of her mind, she knew she should just leave well enough alone and continue on with her rounds. But she couldn’t help but find herself enamored with the story this frail old shell of the woman she used to be was weaving for her.

And she couldn’t very well leave it on a cliff hanger, could she?

“They walked, of course.”

The old woman states, matter of factly, complete with the motion of her fingers walking over her open palm.

“I’m sorry, hun.. But that doesn’t make any sense.”

Nancy’s statement was received with a soft chuckle.

“Nothing makes sense when you really think about it. Clowns are supposed to be happy.. But these clowns got divorced.”

Closing her eyes for a split moment, Nancy takes a deep breath.

“I’m.. sorry to hear that. But what about Lucy? What about her friends?”

She hears some motion outside the door to this room, and she knows she doesn’t have much longer before she will have to leave.

“Can you tell me more before I have to leave? Before we go and get you some breakfast?”

“I hope Lucy won’t be upset that I’m telling you her story…”

A look of uncertainty washes over the older lady’s face as Nancy pats her leg, trying to reassure her.

“If she is, you just come and get me and I’ll explain everything okay?”

The older lady’s face relaxes and a more… mischievous look crosses her features as she leans forward and whispers.

“Okay… Well her friends weren’t the only ones that were there…”

 

Deep in the darkness of the forest, four men rest – clad in starkly different uniforms than the ones that Nate and Tony were wearing. One of the men sat separate from the rest, his jet black hair laying neatly on his shoulders as he tipped a golden chalice towards his mouth and took a healthy drink of whatever was held within.

“Do you suppose you’ve frightened them off?”

He inquired, taking a moment to glance out at the other men from under the garish and un-military-like hat that sat perched upon his head. The other men nod their heads, only one of them willing to say anything in response.

“For the moment. But they’ll be back. Cockroaches like them will always be back.”

“Undoubtedly so.”

Another man chimes in, an air of arrogance in his voice. The third one remains seated, his back turned to the other three in what can only be characterized as defiance. Finally the third man scoffs in disgust.

“I still don’t see why we’re protecting… This.”

He motions back towards the man in the garish hat.

“We want that chalice.. Why don’t we just take the damn thing? Ol’ Monty here can’t take on all three of us.”

“Would you like to place a wager on that, dear David?”

The man named Monty replies nonchalantly, his eyes flickering around to all three of his cohorts.

“I would certainly love to see you try. But as your… friends here will remind you, we have an accord. It wouldn’t behoove you to go back on your word.”

Standing up is another of the four men, this one tall with a jaw made of stone – his eyes turning from David to Monty before he lets out a discontented sigh.

“It’s not like anyone else has anything of substance to offer us, God only knows why I’m here to begin with. I’m surprised Admiral Summers didn’t toss me back into the brig before we were set to go out for this battle.”

The fourth man, the only one yet to speak, lets out a snort of laughter, garnering the attention of everyone, but especially the tall man with the much whinier disposition than one would believe by simply looking upon him.

“You know why he didn’t, hotshot? Because he doesn’t give a hoot if you wind up dead. But then again, you already know that.. Don’t you Zane?”

The one named Zane glares holes through the fourth man, clenching his jaw. For a moment it looks as if he’s considering an assault on one of his own men, but thinks better of it under the circumstances.

“But we know why we’re here, and we know why he’s here.”

The fourth man motions towards Monty and his golden Chalice.

“If we exterminate those… cockroaches as Zane here so lovingly put it… Monty promised us a chance at that… So why not play his game and remove him from contention later?”

Monty extends his arms out with a flourish and laughs.

“Exactly! I’m more than willing to give any or all of you a fair chance. That is if you make it through the battle.”

It’s David’s turn to laugh.

“If we don’t survive, what are your chances?”

Monty sits back with a self-assured grin on his lips.

“My chances are better than you might think. Whether it’s you.. Or them… I assure you that I will be perfectly fine.”

As Monty finishes his sentence, the four of them are brought to attention by a rustling in the bushes very near to their resting spot. All but Monty grab for their firearms and direct them towards the trespassing presence.

“That… would not be a good idea…”

A booming voice echoes out from behind the bush. Instantly recognizing the voice, they lower their guns as the man known as Fear steps out, his figure somehow casting a shadow, even in these completely covered woods.

A chill fills the air as he steps into their presence, those seemingly glowing eyes moving from one to another before he turns his attention to Monty.

“You think too highly of yourself, Showman.”

Monty tries to disguise it as he swallows hard, and stares defiantly up at the obscured face of Fear.

“So you believe. But you are the one who went off on your own, and might I ask you.. How did that little excursion go for you?”

The other three men move closer, wanting to know the answer to that question as well. But Fear, he doesn’t answer right away – Instead he moves past them and peers across the battlefield, staring at the spot where his prey were hiding.. Cowering not very long before.

“You may think me foolish, but I’ve done something that not one of you could do.”

“And what might that be?”

Fear turns suddenly and a dark, sinister grin can barely be seen beneath the hood that shrouds his face.

“Donovan, I’ve wounded one of them…”

Zane steps forward, while David brings himself to his feet.

“But you didn’t kill them.”

Zane replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“So, once again you fail to deliver… Fear. What a surprise.”

David mocks, his eyes narrowing at his fellow soldiers.

“I say we hunt them down and finish the job once and for all. And then… We find the rest of their camps and we…”

“Burn them to the ground.”

Donovan adds, nodding his head.

 

“Oh no…”

Nancy whispers, as she sits back in her chair.

“I mean, obviously everything ended up okay.. Right? Lucy is coming to see you today, so…”

The older lady simply shrugs and turns her attention back towards the window.

“Lucy’s favorite breakfast is pancakes. Did you know that? Her sister likes waffles more.”

Nancy could sense that she was fighting a losing battle, but having come this far… She couldn’t stand not knowing the end of the story. So she presses on.

“That’s awesome! I like both, myself. What about these men? Are they going to find Nate and Tony? What about Lucy and Rogan?”

Nancy asks, hoping that any of her questions will spark a response. Luckily for her, the old woman’s eyes flicker back towards her, the corners of her eyes wrinkling up as she smiles.

“Rogan is strong. Much stronger than he lets on, I think.”

Nancy nods her head. She’s hanging on every word this woman says.

“Does that mean he’s going to help them?”

“His strength compliments hers. Maybe that’s why they belong together.”

Sighing, Nancy nods her head and runs her fingers through her short brunette hair. She contemplates for a moment if she should keep pressing, but she doesn’t need to as the old lady continues this time without prompting her.

“And that’s why those two boys wound up where they did….”

 

It feels like hours, any maybe it was – As Nate and Tony slowly trudged through the wheat-fields and towards the home that at one time laid in the distance. They had slowed Nate’s blood loss to a mere trickle, and that was a good sign, but Tony knew he had to get his friend medical attention and that house was their best bet.

He spent much of the time looking over their shoulders, making sure no one was following the, but deep down he and Nate both knew this reprieve wouldn’t last long.

“We’re almost there, Nate. You still with me?”

Nate let out a half-hearted chuckle.

“I’m with you, friend. We’re not out of it yet. I’ve yet to take out any of those sons of bitches and I ain’t gonna stop til I do.”

“Let’s get you taken care of first, then you can do your worst, okay?”

Nate nods in agreement as they slowly approach the front porch of the house. They can see two people moving about inside, and they stop in their tracks when they notice that one of them is standing in the window, staring directly at them.

The door to the home opens not too long after, and out steps a man in a hat – covered in dirt, with piercing green eyes.

“You fella’s need something?”

Rogan calls out, taking a step forward.

“My buddy here is hurt..”

Rogan’s eyes move to the wound on Nate’s shoulder and he immediately moves towards them, taking the burden of Nate’s weight off of Tony.

“Come on.”

Once the three of them enter the home, Nate and Tony can see that the other person within the home is a woman with long blonde hair and when she lays her ice blue eyes upon them, they widen in shock.

But before she can say anything, Rogan is asking her for her assistance.

“Lucy, we need some water and rags.”

“Rogan..”

She says, her voice barely audible before she rushes off and returns a few moments later with the items that Rogan had requested. Rogan took a seat in front of Nate, but before he could begin the task of pulling that bullet out of his shoulder, Tony places a hand on Rogan’s arm and stops him.

“If you don’t mind, he’s my friend.”

Rogan simply nods his head and backs away towards where Lucy stands. The two watch as Tony takes to his friend, and cleans the wound, and extracts the bullet before bandaging the wound.

“Rogan…”

Lucy says again, this time glancing up at the Dark Man to find him nodding.

“I see it too.”

“It’s not them, is it?”

Rogan shakes his head.

“It can’t be. But.. this coincidence cannot be accidental.”

Lucy grabs at his arm, and their intertwine as they watch these two men, that cannot possibly be the men they know in another world, another time – as they pick up the pieces of a battle that Lucy nor Rogan could even fathom.

Or could they?

“Does he…”

Lucy says a bit louder, garnering the attention of the two men across the room from them.

“Or I mean, do you two need to rest? I can fix you something if you’re hungry?”

Tony is the first to nod his head as he brings himself back to his feet, his hands covered in the blood of his friend.

“If Nate here could lay down, I’d be real appreciative.. And I can’t turn down the offer of a hot meal, Ma’am. It’s been a while.”

Lucy nods her head and lets go of Rogan’s hand as she moves forward and does what she does best, takes care of everything. She helps Tony guide Nate into the bedroom, as Rogan watches on – His eyes never leaving her until she disappears behind the door.

But then the worry began to seep into the Dark Man’s brain.

Were they in danger? Did he inadvertantly put Lucy into more danger than he’d intended. He knew she could handle herself, but Rogan could never forgive himself if something were to happen to her on one of these little ‘adventures’. Nothing was worth hurting Lucy.

But those thoughts were quickly displaced as Lucy and Tony emerge from the bedroom and Lucy heads for the kitchen to fix the men something to eat. Before she does, she shoots him a warm smile, and immediately the Dark Man feels at ease.

“You okay?”

Rogan asks Tony as the latter brings himself to sit down at the small dining room table. Tony lets out a hard sigh, but he nods his head anyway.

“I’m.. here. I..I was fumbling with my gun.. And I didn’t see ‘em come up on us.”

He motions towards the bedroom where Nate lays.

“This is on me. I just hope he’ll be alright.”

Tony almost chokes on those words, as if the thought of his friend perishing because of his lack of foresight would be too much for him to bear. Rogan senses this and comes to sit across from him, a reassuring smile on his lips.

“I think he’ll be okay.”

Tony shrugs his shoulders as silence takes over the space between the two men as they listen to Lucy moving about in the other room. Finally, Tony looks up quizzically.

“Tell me, Rogan? Is it? How’d you two manage to stay out of the war? I ain’t seen no one that’s been able to keep themselves out of it.”

“I don’t know. Forgive me, but I don’t think I even know what this fight is over.”

Tony’s eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Man, out here in the middle of nowhere, you don’t get no news do you? The big guys, they’re trying to keep people like Nate and me down, you know? They’re trying to keep all the best of everything for themselves.. And we ain’t the only ones that are sick of it. We deserve better too, ya know?”

Rogan listens intently, nodding his head as Tony speaks.

“And they got all their eggs in Monty’s basket, and he’s got all the riches, all the.. All the well, everything and we think that’s just plain selfish.”

“Monty?”

Both men are surprised to see Lucy standing in the doorway, holding a steaming plate of food. She steps into the room and sets the plate in front of Tony, who tears at it like a hungry dog who’s not eaten for weeks.

“Did you say Monty?”

Lucy asks again, shooting Rogan another look as Tony responds, his mouth crammed full of food.

“Yeah, yeah.. He’s got all the bigwigs in his backpocket, you know? Oh man.. This is good Ma’am. Thank you… but yeah.. Admiral Summers… He’s got himself an army that’s trying to protect Monty from us.. They don’t wanna give up the lifestyle they got, I guess. I don’t know. All I know is me and Nate want a better life.. And they’re going to have to kill us to keep us from it. I got a girl back home…”

He looks between Lucy and Rogan.

“And I wanna provide for her and…”

“I understand.”

Rogan says in a whisper, his hand sliding effortlessly into Lucy’s.

“Do you need help?”

“Excuse me?”

Lucy gives Rogan an incredulous look to which he returns her glare with a solemn nod.

“I can’t just let these two go back out and face whatever’s out there without at least trying to help, Lucy.”

“I know but…”

Rogan knows exactly what Lucy is trying to say without her finishing the sentence. This isn’t their world. This isn’t their fight. She doesn’t want something to happen to him that can’t be undone.

And neither does he.

But to him, at this moment… This feels like the right thing, and he can’t figure out why.

“Man.. I can’t ask you to do that.”

Tony says, looking downward into his hands.

“We can use the help though.”

All three of them are startled to hear another voice, and even more startled to see Nate standing in the doorway of the bedroom, his blood already beginning to staining the bandage on his shoulder. Immediately Tony gets up and tries to usher him back into the bedroom.

“You need to rest.”

But Nate stops him.

“No, we need to get back out there. We can’t win this battle from in here. And yeah, we could use the help, Mister. Don’t let him fool you. We’re up against some bad guys, and the more numbers we got, the better our chances.”

Without another word, Rogan gets up from the table and Lucy watches him as he moves through the house and comes back brandishing his own firearm.

“I’m ready.”

“Hold it, just a minute…”

Lucy says, rushing off into the bedroom. Moments later, she comes out wearing an outfit very similar to the one Rogan’s wearing. At first Rogan can’t help but stare at her, but then he realizes what she’s looking to do and he shakes his head. Even Tony and Nate are apprehensive when they see her. Her intentions are written all over her face, afterall.

“Lucy, I can’t–”

“Rogan, If you’re gonna go then so am I. Remember San Jose? Remember everything else we’ve ever fought for?”

A bit of pink rises to Rogan’s cheeks.

“I do.”

“Then you know you’re not gonna convince me otherwise. Where you go, I go with you.”

Rogan opens his mouth to say something else, but he’s interrupted by Nate as the young man stares out the window.

“Oh shit… I don’t think any of us got much choice.”

Rogan rushes towards the window, followed closely by Lucy and Tony. Out in the front yard, they see the figures of four men… Four very familiar looking men as they slowly approach the homestead.

“So, this is happening…”

“I suppose so.”

“Are you ready, Dark Man?”

Rogan glances sideways at Lucy as Tony and Nate gather their supplies and make for the door. Lucy stands up on her tiptoes and kisses Rogan, just once more before they too make for the door…

And the final battle begins.

 

Nancy looks shell-shocked as the older lady sits back and lets out a sigh.

“What happened? Did they win?”

“I don’t know.. Maybe she’ll tell me that today. At breakfast.”

The older lady looks away for a few moments, and when she finally turns her attention back to Nancy, she jumps, letting out a gasp.

“When did you get here? Is it dinner time already? I better get started.. Gary will be mad if it isn’t ready when he gets home.”

She attempts to get up off the bed, but Nancy grabs her gently and lowers her back onto her bed with another sigh. She hates to see patients like this – watching day after day as their minds slowly decline until they don’t even know who they are anymore.

“It’s okay Christine. It’s breakfast time, remember? We were going to get you some breakfast before Lucy visits later.”

Christine nods her head slowly, her eyes staring off into space.

“Lucy comes every week. She likes to make sure I’m okay.”

“Of course she does.”

Nancy knew the story.

She’s been here for years now, taking care of Christine Johnson, after the events that transpired in a warehouse in Baltimore. After the events that saw this woman plunge a knife into the back of her husband – Saving her oldest daughter from his wrath. After years of trying to get Christine to deal with the trauma she’d been through, the doctors in this facility had come to realize that the woman they cared for now – would forever be in decline.

Sometimes the mind just breaks.

Sometimes there’s no fixing it.

All they could do was keep her comfortable, and let her have her fantasy. A simple fantasy where her daughter visited every week, and that she cared enough to make sure her mother was taken care of.

“Let’s go get you some breakfast, okay?”

 

 

Don’t they say that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and over again, expecting a different result?  I’d venture to say that that’s exactly what Outlast is… For each and every one of us.

At least, that’s what it should feel like, you know?

I can’t lie. I’ve felt that way over the years, and maybe some of you might think that I should come into this year, finally realizing that that’s all I’ve been doing year after year… Doing the same shit, expecting to finally win the damn thing. And maybe the Lucy of last year, or well any other Lucy than the one that’s standing in front of you right now… Maybe she would have agreed.

But come on. That’s what makes Outlast so fun.

The uncertainty. The risk. The competition.

That’s why we come back. That’s why we all try to make it to the end of the night, and try to become the new World Champion. Most of us.. Well, ninety nine percent of us aren’t gonna succeed. But then again, on any given night, it’s a guarantee that half of us aren’t gonna be happy at the end of it.

I guess the point I’m getting at is.. Anything can happen.

Yet another reason why we’re all here. Willing to risk disappointment for the chance to say you’ve won the Outlast tournament.

And this year is no different. I’m here. Maybe a bit unexpected, especially after your girl basically disappeared after the Global Challenge. It’s not because Montague beat me, even though I’m sure that’s the consensus going around. One would think you would all know me a bit better than that by now. Then again though, I know who my coworkers are and to say the vast majority of you don’t give a flying fuck about anything other than what’s right in front of your face would be an understatement.

That’s okay though. We can’t all be me.

And I’m thrilled to be going into battle beside my partner, who’s return is a long time coming. Rogan is one of the very best people to have by your side. And trust me when I say you are all missing out by not being on his team. But then again, I’m a bit biased, ain’t I? It doesn’t matter what any of you think, because Rogan and I know that at the end of the day, Outlast is just another day to be doing what we love… and we’re grateful for that.

I can’t talk about my team, without mentioning Tony Savage and Nathaniel Dixon. Another two people that so many of you look down your noses at – And that’s just a damn shame. But that’s just how things go around here. Blinded by your own ignorance, and then you’re surprised when it comes back to bite you in the ass.. and if anyone can be the ones to serve up a bit of humble pie – It’s those two.

Looking forward to working with you boys… And if we make it.. Looking forward to kicking your asses too.

But first things first.

Donovan, Zane, Dave and Phrixus.

Damn if that isn’t a team full of ego and.. Well more ego.

Sprinkle in a bit of whiney entitlement and I think that about sums the lot of you up.

I don’t really know what else I can say to any of you because I’ve just about said it all. Donovan, you’ve been the proverbial thorn in my side since.. since well, I’ve been in the UGWC. I’ve lost count on the number of times that we’ve gone head to head… But I know full well that my record against you hasn’t been anything to write home about.

But aren’t you tired of it, Donny?

I know that’s a ridiculous question… How could YOU be tired of winning? But think about it. It’s time for a change, don’t you think? It’s time for you to do something different for once… Step back and let a real star shine. And hey, I’m all about giving you something to think about. I’m all for being the one to eliminate you and send your smarmy ass packing.

I mean, you’ve done it all, haven’t you?

What more do you got to prove?

Speaking of proving things… Zane. Good lord bud. You’ve had a rough go of it, haven’t you? And you know, I’d actually feel bad for you if you actually did something about it instead of whining about it all over social media, and God only knows where else. Look at yourself in the mirror Zane Scott and remember that you’re the man who held ALL of UGWC’s singles titles at the same God damned time. You were THE man at one point in time.. and look how far you’ve fallen.

What a pity it is to watch someone with so much shine and potential turn into a more successful Johnny Hitmaker. You’re better than that Zane. We all know it. Hell, maybe even you know it, but you’re unwilling to look outside of your butthurt to actually be the man of action that you used to be.

You don’t like how UGWC is treating you… Join the fucking club. They booked me to end Gabriel Baal’s career a few years back. What did I do? I fucked right off, didn’t I? It’s not hard to stand up for yourself, Zane. You should give it a try.

But we both know you won’t, so I don’t know why I’m wasting my breath.

And Dave. Good old Dave Rydell. When you wanna see a combination of grumpiness and entitlement… You don’t have to look any further than Dave Rydell.

I don’t get you Dave, I really don’t.

You have moments of greatness. You really do. And then you just fizzle out and months, or even years go by when no one even remembers you exist – let alone that you’re actually a wrestler. And sure, you punted me in the head once. I remember. But really, that’s all you’ve got, isn’t it? And that fucking scares you, doesn’t it? The fucking world remembers that time that Lucy Wylde and Gabriel Baal fought over the world title after Gabriel had me kidnapped for a week. Everyone remembers just about EVERYTHING Lucy Wylde does… and NO ONE even thinks about the ONE fucking time that Dave Rydell got one over on Lucy Wylde.

Just stating facts here, Dave.

And no one is gonna remember you were on team Entitled pricks because you won’t be in the match long enough for it to matter. Take that Conquest title win and ride it into obscurity before you shove it right up your ass, bud.

Which brings me to Fear himself.

Phrixus, Phrixus, Phrixus. Everyone and their brother knows what you bring to the table. And I remember the last time we faced off, I told you I knew what you meant to the UGWC. You’re a man that’s accomplished a lot, and there’s a reason people don’t fuck around when it comes to you.

But I feel like that boat has passed.

You had a great run with the Conquest title, and no one can take that from you. But I think we both know you’re not in this to obtain the world title. You’re in this to prove that there’s still a bit of the Phrixus of old in there somewhere, and that he can outdo the other ‘legends’ that you’re teaming with. And I hope there is. I hope I step in the ring and I see someone that I’ve never met. I hope I see the man who everyone heralds as every bit the legend that Donovan or Roberts are.

You’re a wild card.

Each and every time. I’m not overlooking you. I’m only calling things as I see them in this moment. Trust me when I say, I might be wrong. That’s something I’ve never been shy to admit. But I don’t fear you, Phrixus. I don’t fear your power, or your prowess… I’ve been through things much worse than losing to you.. I’ve battled worse things than a fight with fear himself.

So do what you will, and I’ll do the same.

I guess that’s my message to all of you. Especially you, Montague. Have fun, enjoy yourselves… And hell, maybe at the end of the night… you’ll be happier than everyone else.

But I wouldn’t count on it.

You fuckers don’t know how to have fun if you’re not the very best at every God damned thing. But me? I’ve learned a lot in the last few months, and I’m gonna walk out of Outlast a very happy woman regardless of how my night goes.

I get to go home with Rogan Motherfucking MacLean… How much better does it get?

Later, bitches.