Annihilating Matt Ward for the Hardcore title within minutes of entering the arena for the first time, why? Because he could. Because he needed to. Because pain and suffering are all that matter. Matt Ward had in his possession a trinket that is supposed to symbolize that he was king of such things. Pff. Come on. While Wolf Heathen isn’t particularly interested in titles, this was abhorrent. He simply claimed it from an unworthy bearer. Now it belongs to him and you’d have to be some kind of out of you MIND if you think anyone is going to take it away standing upright.
The scene opens in an office. The picture is shaky, like an amateur holding a camcorder. It pans the room for a moment before settling on a the chair in front of it. In it sits Wolf Heathen with one boot on the desk in front of him and a generally apathetic posture.
“Seriously?”
He eyes the camera for a moment before the stooge behind it speaks.
“What, you said record everything…”
Wolf Heathen rolls his eyes a bit and sighs to himself.
“I’m surrounded by idiots.”
A door opens and a well dressed man holding a clipboard walks into the room. He looks at Wolf Heathen and raises a brow before sighing quietly and taking his seat behind the desk. He glances at Wolf’s boot for a moment before staring at him.
“Do you mind?”
Wolf Heathen shrugged and dropped his foot to the floor lazily.
“Thank you. Now, Mr…Wolf Heathen? Am I saying that correctly?”
Wolf Heathen stared at him blankly for a moment.
“Yeah, you know. Or Satan.”
The doctor nodded hesitantly before noticing the camera.
“Right…Is there a reason you have someone recording this?”
Wolf smirked a bit and inhaled deeply.
“Yeah, for my own personal record. Should anything happen.”
“Okay, well. I guess we should get started then. We’ll start with some basic background questions first.”
Wolf nodded and gestured at him to allow him to proceed.
“So, place of birth?”
Wolf Heathen squinted one eye and leaned back in the chair to stare at the ceiling for a moment. He quickly lunged forward answering the question and getting a startled response in return.
“Hmm, Karlsruhe, Germany.”
He sat back with a small grin. Right where he wants him…
“Sooo, you’re a German?”
Wolf pointed his finger at him quickly and leaned his elbows in the edge of the desk.
“No. Technically, I guess you’re somewhat right…my father was Norwegian. Now he‘s rotting in the ground.”
“…and your mother?”
“Before or after she slit her wrists and hung herself from the fan in the kitchen?”
“Wha…before.”
Wolf Heathen laughed a bit, settling back in the chair.
“She was German.”
Another awkward pause as the doctor stared at him in total disbelief that he could actually laugh at something that horrible.
“Any…other family?”
Wolf shrugged a bit.
“Not really. I don’t exactly care for my lineage. Weak and will less. I tend to disregard that type of person. They’re all failures or dead by their own hand. Cowards, the lot of them. I do have a cousin though…”
He grinned again as the dr cleared his throat.
“Do you speak?”
Wolf raised his brows in thought for a moment before replying.
“I speak a lot. To him specifically, no. He reminds me of everything I hate and stand in opposition against, even if he is himself like me in some ways. By that I mean he’s an arrogant asshole.”
“At least you don’t deny it.”
“Why should I. There’s no shame in being confident and knowing that you’re the best at what you do.”
“And what do you do?”
“I hurt people. I cause pain and force them to fight. I force them to face the devil.”
“You?”
“No, metaphorically. If they are going to fight me, then they oppose everything I stand for, which is everything you and your lords tell you is wrong and vile. I am not the devil, just a messenger. His knight in blood soaked armor.”
“OKAY. Word associations…I‘ll say a word and you tell me the first thing that pops into your head. One word answers.”
“Great.”
Wolf leaned forward again, with a cocky grin and an intense stare.
“Pain.”
“Pleasure.”
“Fear.”
“Strength.”
“Suffering.”
“Control.”
“…violence.”
“Existence.”
“Blood.”
“Necessary.”
“How?”
“I need it. Not just my own, but that of others. I can’t live without it. I mean, I could, but that would be boring. It makes me feel alive. Taking something they cannot live without. Owning a piece of them without their approval. The ultimate control and total satisfaction. Violently. It has to be violently. Otherwise I’d be a fucking nurse or something. No. That doesn’t work for me. Pain is a huge part of it. I cant get ANY satisfaction from anything unless there’s a certain amount of pain involved. That’s what happens when you become completely numb and apathetic to the world. You need something to wake you up…”
“I…I think I’ve heard enough.”
“Have you? Tell me, whats your professional opinion.”
“I think you are a textbook example of a Sociopath. Narcissistic, Sadomasochistic Hemophiliac. I believe you are capable of doing great harm to yourself and others and If you want my honest opinion, sir, you should not be allowed in public without being heavily sedated. By rights I shouldn’t even let you leave this room…”
“No, see that doesn’t work for me. I havent broken any laws and sadly the harm I do is fairly controlled by my surroundings. So you’re fucked. And I’m leaving. Thanks.”
“I have a feeling that that camera is there solely to suit your own end.”
“Everything I do is solely to suit my own end. Trust me, you don’t know shit. This was fun and everything, but you havent even cracked the binding of the book, so to speak. And I hope it keeps you up at night. Now, if you‘ll kindly excuse me, I have to go talk to a cancerous tumor.”
“Tumor?”
Wolf Heathen rolled his eyes as he stood.
“My cousin…”
--------
At the Arena
-----
“Where’s Lorcan?”
“I..I dunno? The fuck do I look like, a babysitter?”
“No, you look like a worthless piece of shit, get out of my way.” Wolf Heathen walks a bit and finally spots Lorcan in the hallway. Grinding his teeth, he walks towards him swiftly.
“Well, well well. You’re harder to find than a gerbil in a colon.” Lorcan raised a brow with a smile
“To What do I owe this pleasure, cousin?” Wolf sighed and shrugged his shoulders, taking a step closer.
“Oh I don’t know. Curiosity I guess. Boredom. I have no fucking clue, but the longer I look at you the sicker I get. I’m going to finish what THEY started and kill you off as well. That way I don’t have to look at failure anymore. I won’t have to be reminded of what useless subhuman waste made up my gene pool. You’re the spitting fucking image of an abortion, do you know that? I’d like to gouge out your eyes. As a matter of fact, on Adrenaline, I’m going to do just that. I’m going to stomp you out of existence. You’ll be on a first class trip back to Germany on a fucking gurney. And I’ll be finished with it. And ALL of YOU.”
“….I’m…”
“You’re nothing. Absolutely NOTHING. Just a memory. That’s all. And I fully intend on erasing it…”
Apparently there was a lot of history going on here. And none of it good. To Wolf, Lorcan may as well have been everything he loathed about the world in one disgusting being. The BlutEngel. Everything about him was a spit in the face. Wolf has traveled thousands of miles to get away from it. Yet still it followed, casting its dark shadow over him. The shadow of failure, the shadow of decay and utter stagnation. The lingering cur that he worked so diligently to rid himself of. The very reason he is who he is. Lorcan knows nothing of pain and anguish and utter despair. But he will. And he won’t make it out like Wolf Heathen did. He won’t become the beast when faced with ghastly misfortune. He won’t. He can’t. It’s not an option. Lorcan will not withstand The Devil’s Knight and his Absoluter Holle Sturm.[Absolute Hell Storm] Lorcan's eyes widened, as if he wasn't really expecting Wolf Heathen to take that approach. He glanced at the Hardcore Title on Wolf's shoulder for a moment.
“Yeah, keep looking at it. Soon it will be embedded in your brain. You’ll know it like the back of your skull because there’s going to be a perfect indentation of it in HIGH DEFINITION DETAIL after I’m finished with you. You’re fucking finished Lorcan. You should have stayed with the corpses in Germany. Instead you’re going to BE a corpse in America. And I’ll bury you here. Under the shards of broken glass, twisted metal and broken knuckles. I never liked you. Ever. You’re a disease. And I will cleanse myself of you completely. Washed in YOUR blood. I’m going to enjoy this. Perhaps more than I should…”
Wolf Raised his brow with a low chuckle as Lorcan stared at him. Lorcan cocked his head slowly with a smirk of his own.
“You try SO hard to pretend not to give a shit, don’t you? If you want to make it personal, I have no problem with that. Just don’t forget, there’s a reason I’m still around…”
Wolf growled angrily and smashed his title against the wall next to Lorcan’s head as a warning. He stared him down, breathing pure rage. Wolf backed off slowly and pointed his finger at Lorcan, nodding his head with a sadistic grin on his lips.
“Death. Negation of being. I swear to christ that all the angels in heaven will WEEP BLOOD when I’m through with you, Lorcan.”
Wolf sneered in disgust before walking away, leaving Lorcan shaking his head in the hallway.
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