Ascension (Roulette #2)

[Warren Kane]

Purpose.

It is something most of us spend our entire lives searching for. A lot of us don’t even realise we are, until the lion's share of our lives have already passed, but it is something that unites us. Every race, every creed, every religion, every sex, every sexual orientation. The narrow minded and the open minded, the left wing and the right. We’re all seeking our individual purpose.

It’s a quest that can take a long time, a lifetime even. Something many don’t find until it is far too late, but when you do? When you have that moment of clarity? Everything becomes so crystal clear. The entire world is like an open book for you to read, and the path towards that purpose becomes clear.

I have found my purpose, and I am going to fulfill that purpose.

I am not going to make any grand declarations like the likes of Angel Blake, Xavier Cross, Spike Kane, and Rowan MacDonnough. No, I’m not here to destroy IWF, I’m not here to take down the corrupt monstrosity of a company that has become so big it devours the lives within it. No…

I’m not even here to cleanse IWF, as much as it so desperately needs cleansing.

No.

I am simply here to dish out what is deserved, to those who deserve it. Left or right, open or narrow, good or bad….I don’t care. IWF has thrived for years on corruption, on lies, on deceit, weapons me and my kind excel with…..but it isn’t just us, you see….we’re open about who we are and what we do.

We are bad people.

And we do bad things.

It’s those who hide the darkness in their hearts that I have an issue with, it’s those who lie to protect their image that I have a problem with, it’s those who pretend to care about others only to let everyone down in the end…..those are the people I am looking forward to meeting. Be it in the opening match, like it was with Malo last week, or be it in the main event of Night of the Immortals….

Or the Roulette itself.

Make no mistake about it IWF, the Warren Kane you thought you knew is long gone. I’m not here for the thrill, I’m not here to put on a show, I’m not here to be the best and I damn sure am not here to be anybody's puppet. It’s time people paid the piper, and it’s time people remembered what my last name is, and what that stands for, what it means, what it takes to be a…

KANE.

---

London, you get it...right? Still a shit hole.

The lift, or elevator as some would say, slowly went up the building floor by floor. As each floor slowly creeped past the light from outside shone through and faded away just as quickly. Before Warren had a time to be left alone with his thoughts too long, the doors opened and a large blue square with the number “5” painted in white appeared in front of him. Warren shoved his hands in his pockets as he stepped out into the hallway and then towards the corridor slash balcony that lead towards his mother and John's home. The wind whipped up around him real strong, and as he gazed out over the night sky, neon beams of light glared back at him. His eyes began to sting from the wind, so he lowered his head and headed towards door “100” a place he never thought he would ever return to.

“Is this the place that the ‘Prince’ was born?”

The voice didn’t disturb him anymore, but the things it was saying, and the questions it was asking were starting to bother Warren. For now he just ignored it, but he knew well and true, that the longer he was away from IWF, the longer he was away from Dean, the longer he was away from The Pack? The stronger the voice became, the more angry the voice became, and Warren knew, at least on some level…..his mind was living on borrowed time.

[CLICK]

The door opened easily as Warren slid the keys in, he was instantly hit by the smell. A smell he couldn’t describe, but it filled his mind with memories. Memories like being a young kid and running around the house, leaving over the stairs and telling his Mom and his Aunt to “suck it” while crotch chopping. Memories of pancakes on a Sunday morning, cooked by his Mom, the smile on her face beaming. Of course though, they were soon replaced with memories of John. The door slamming shut behind Warren jolted him, it reminded him of how he used to felt when the tell tale slam of the door meant that John was home. A shudder ran through him and he tried to shrug it off as he continued into the living room.

Funny name that, because it didn’t look like anyone had been living in here.

The budgie cage was a state, piled up waste and left over food. A sense of horror flooded through Warren as he leaned over the cage and saw the bird that his mother had bought for him the first time John had hit him. Some kind of compensation to make up for the abuse, the budgie (Alan) lay there amongst the food and it’s own waste, it’s eyes cold and staring, almost accusative. The horror inside Warren was quickly being replaced with anger and guilt, was it his fault Alan died? Why didn’t he take him with him?

“Because you don’t want any reminders of him….”

The voice was right, and it worried Warren that he was agreeing. He turned towards the coffee table where there was a short stack of letters with his name on, Warren Kidd and Warren Kane. The flipped through the “Kidd” ones, seeing that they were just spam mail from book clubs and other things he’d foolishly signed up for before leaving for the States. However there was one addressed to his Kane surname, and it looked official as hell. Slowly, he began to open it, it was an official letter, signed and stamped by groups of officials he didn’t even know existed, but attached to it, was a note….and Warren’s angry and guilty heart sank just that little bit more as he read the note.

“Warren,

My son…..my only remaining son. I’m not going to ask you for your forgiveness, or to try and understand the workings of my mind. I just want you to know that I love you, that I have always loved you, and I am incredibly proud of you. You came into a business that would have treated you like a God, but you wanted to earn everything your own way, and I swell with pride when I see what you can do, and what you’re capable of. I’m not going to lecture you about your choices, we all have to make good and bad decisions to learn from them. All I want you to be is happy son, all I want is for you to enjoy life.

By the time you read this I’ll be gone. I know my time is limited, I can feel it….I’m going to let so many people down, and I’m going to hurt them in a way I never thought I could. I’m sorry, I truly am, for everything. I want you to be happy, and I want you to be healthy. I have signed over the ownership of the village I own outside of Philly, it’s called Hellview and for my own amusement I’ve always kept the population at ninety six. I’m also signing over the beneficiaries to all my wrestling related rights to you son, merch sales, t-shirt sales, dvd sales, even when archive footage may be used on “networks” you’ll get royalties.

I wanted to set my family up for life, but I’m running out of time. I hope this helps you Warren, I hope that one day, maybe, you can forgive me.

I love you,
-Spike.”

Tears began to fall and Warren just couldn’t understand any of it. He sat himself down in his Mom’s armchair and just buried his face in his hands. How could someone have such a fucked up life? How could he love and yet hate both his parents at the same time? Spike was a douche, he had no objections to that, but when his mother chose John over him? It hurt like nothing ever could. Maybe, just maybe, Warren was starting to see things from Spike’s point of view.

“Took you long enough”

The voice came clearer than it had ever done in the past, and it felt like it was coming from the room. Warren looked up towards the windows that showed the London City skyline and sat in the arm chair opposite him, with a smirk on his face and a glass of whiskey in his hands was none other, than Spike Kane.

---

I’m gonna cut to the chase, I want Xavier Cross.

But I don’t want him in some throwaway TV match, I don’t want him in a match that will fly through people's memories, I want a showstopper, I want something epic, something legendary and what could be more legendary than fighting him for the world championship at Night of the Immortals?

I’m tired of the games.

I’m tired of being used as a bargaining chip, or a weakness in other peoples petty squabbles.

Xavier Cross is (apparently) part of the Pack now…..but do I trust him? Ha, yeah right. I trust him about as much as I trust Rob Diamond saying he’s hetrosexual. I trust him about as long as the average Trent Helms return. I know he’s up to something, and deep down? I know that whether for himself or for shits and giggles…

He’s trying to take Dean away from me.

Now I know what you’re thinking; “Warren you should trust Dean, and trust the bond the two of you have” yeah, easy to say from the bleachers. When you’ve had as fucked up an upbringing as Dean has, or as I have? It gives you trust issues. You have problems connecting with people and when some complete and utter cuntwaffle throws a spanner in the works just for shits and giggles?

Well it makes me want to take something away from him.

I could fight fire with fire, and drive sweet Vivienne away from him, or even mess with his kids….but I’m not that much of an asshole. I’ll happily cave your skull in, but I have a line that I won’t cross….consider it a skewed sense of honour.

Xavier Cross has no honour.

This is why I came back in time for the Roulette, this is why I need to enter and win. It’s why I need to go on to Night of the Immortals and fight him in the main event for the World Championship. Not only will I embarrass him on the grandest stage, but I’ll take something he worked so hard to get, and works even harder to keep…..just like I do with Dean Harper.

So I’m going in head strong. I’m going in with a sense of purpose, one not too different from the reason I returned. Everyone must pay their debts. James Gilmore must pay his debts, Andrew Jacobsen must pay his debts, Rob Diamond must pay his debts, the list goes on and I most certainly have my work cut out for me. Luck for me?

There’s twenty nine other men who deserve an ass kicking in the ring already.

Anybody who's anybody will be in the roulette, and on my way to victory? It’ll be time to dish out some well overdue justice. I couldn’t think of an occasion more perfect, more inclusive, let’s be clear….bar one or two exceptions? I can and will go in swinging with reckless abandon. I don’t care who I take down, I don’t care who has to suffer because it is about fucking time I got what I wanted, about fucking time I got what I deserved.

I am the Heir, I am the last remaining son of Kane…..I am the Prince of Xtreme….

My crusade has begun, el Grande Malo was the first victim, and in crushing him I come one step closer to ascension. Watch me IWF and tremble, as I come closer and closer to my potential and rise as a Demon Prince and take what is rightfully mine.

I am the son of Spike Kane.

I am the Oncoming Storm.

I am destined to follow in my father's footsteps and win the Roulette.

Because I seethe with purpose.

Such glorious purpose.