The following promotion is brought to you by the only man with actual in-ring talent, participating in the Lord of the Ring match.. Shawn Christopher.

"The eagle has pretty much made it’s comfy landing in XWF, ready and waiting to dig into ones ass. The much anticipated return from myself. Much is expected from me in this match. Never ever been to a land of Lord of the Ring, but I am here now, and I know these fans fucking adore a blood sucker.

It’s too early to call me the ‘savior’ for the XWF ... that position is already filled, sadly to say.

However, a messiah would be suitable, ... no, messiah is too cliche’ ... Just call me XWF’s Dark Knight. Why? Well you all will soon see. My fame here in the Xtreme Wrestling Federation will once again be like snapping fingers. I have that confidence.

Overconfident?

Maybe, but I have the right to be.

Marquee, were both have a lot to prove. Were both jocking for a spot on the overcrowded spotlight. Everyone feeds into the newbie buzz, and fail to realize that either you come into a promotion and stand your ground, standing up and proving otherwise, or you go into your dressing room and cry until their tank is fucking empty.

I’m hoping you’ll be the one who keeps his ground ...

Marquee, I can already read your mind going into this match. Wanting to prove to the rest of the world just how much of a ‘bad-ass’ you really are. Showing the world just what you can do, the basic “wanting to prove you wrong, I can defeat you!”. I’m not doubting, because any given night, anyone can go down. Not everyone is ‘undefeatable’. However darling, Sunday night ... I’m going to be straight up with you on this ...

I’m looking to rip out your confidence and the bit of pride you have ...

Sure, laugh it off, talk about it on your Myspace blog about what this old man named Shawn Christopher said he was going to do to you. It’s all good and gravy, love ... just do me one favor .... Don’t cry later when your body has been bruised by these god-given ‘thunder fists’. I could care less if you were new, old, man, she-male, or whatever... these fists are going to make contact and heat-seek it’s way to a knock out.

I am that driven ...

I will not take a return defeat here in the XWF. I’m going to do whatever it takes to pull out a victory. I want your best Sunday night, Marquee. I want to see if you can really prove me wrong and yourself right. I want to see if you can ‘roll’ along with me and kick my ass. Or will it just be the other way around? Show me, prove me.....

Defeat me.

I’m ready to rock and roll with the others that have already etched and sketched their names and career into the books. I will soon join that elite list. I’m going to start it all off with Marquee, in what should be an incredible Lord of the Ring match. Too bad he’ll be turned upside down and used as a Swiffer Jet, while I mop the canvas with what will be left of his body.

So sad ... so, so sad ...

These are the breaks, however ...

In every road you cross, Marquee... it will be several bumps within it. As much as you try to fix and forget, it just remains there. It can’t be healed up. It’s there for the rest of your career. The only possible choice you can do is just keep rolling on strong. Sad to say, your first bump will be seen at Lord of the Ring. I know you hate to hear it, but ... it’s just the way it is.

You have to live with it ...

I thank you for being so brave to put your body through so much pain and helping to give me my first win here.

It’s been fun, it’s been great, but son ...

I must go now."

* * *

Joyce Doyle

A sip of bourbon burned Joyce’s chapped lips as she finished off another glass. The house was quiet, with Dennis already asleep and Walter off somewhere. It wouldn’t have mattered if the house was full; Joyce would still be alone. With all her secrets out in the open she felt exposed. Walter looked at her as if she were a stranger and not the woman that had shared his bed. Not that she cared what Walter thought anyway. Still, the reality of the situation was starting to hit her and it was as rude as a brick to the face. Sitting alone in the dark she realized that would be her life from now on. Luckily, the booze was nearby and plentiful.

A barely audible click caused her to sit up and look over to the front door. Normally she’d have Walter to at least depend on; instead she had a near empty bottle of bourbon. Her anxieties fired up, but her body wouldn’t move. She almost prayed that it was someone coming to snuff her out.

Laughs filled the darkness as Julie opened the front door and walked in. Hank, just behind her, came in smiling and laughing as well. They looked happy together and it infuriated Joyce, but her head was already spinning preventing her voicing her displeasure. She slinked down into the sofa and prayed that she wouldn’t be spotted.

"Mom, I’ve got great news!"

No luck, her daughter had spotted her.

Joyce placed the empty glass on the coffee table and walked over to her daughter as Julie flipped on the lights. To Julie’s chagrin, her mother stumbled as she came over to her.

"You’re drunk aren’t you?" she asked.

Joyce shook her head, "No, I’ve only had a nightcap."

She lied. Julie didn’t respond so Joyce quickly added, "What’s the news?"

Before Julie could reply Hank walked over and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. His ever present smile was even more horrifying given his interest in her daughter.

"Oh I just told her about a part in a movie I’m writing."

Julie seemed unable to hold her excitement, "It’s a great role in a psychological thriller. I’d play the daughter of a family that is being terrorized by a psychopath."

Hank butted in, "Don’t you think you’re daughter would be perfect for the role? There are some explicit scenes however, involving both violence and sex, but this is a thriller so what can you expect, right? It’s just acting though."

He winked at Joyce as she shuddered and frowned, "Why don’t you head to bed honey, we’ll talk about it tomorrow."

Julie shrugged and nodded before turning to Hank and giving him a peck on the check, "Thanks for the lovely dinner."

She turned and walked up the stairs. Hank wrapped his giant arm around Joyce as he watched her daughter disappear, "Damn woman, you’ve got some good genes I must say."

"I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but if you touch her…"

Suddenly, his arm pulled Joyce tight into his body squashing her. She elicited a slight yelp, but Hanks free hand was quick to cover her mouth.

"It’s not a question of if I’ll touch her; it’s when I’ll touch her. This ain’t the fucking movies and there isn’t a knight in shining armor waiting to bust in and save you. Now where’s your husband? Oh sorry, soon to be ex-husband."

Hank removed his hand from Joyce’s mouth and loosened his grip enough for her to get free.

"He’s out, I don’t know where."

Hank squinted and smiled as he took a few steps closer to Joyce. Nervously, she started backing up until she was flat against the wall. Hank kept inching closer like an animal in heat until his face was mere inches from hers. She fought back her nausea at his hot, garlic reeking breath.

"You know this would be a perfect opportunity for me to give you a whirl."

Hank traced his finger down Joyce’s check and then continued down her neck until he was resting in her cleavage. His eyes never left hers. The panic racing across them was more of a thrill than the feeling of her breasts. His hand kept going south until he traced down to her most private of areas. Suddenly, with his hand in between her legs, he lifted her up off the floor. She moaned, surprising herself from the involuntary action. Hank smelled her neck and gave her a peck on the check much like Julie had given him. He placed his lips right on hers without kissing them, "I could give you pleasure that you could only read about."

"The only pleasure I’d get is if you had a heart attack half way through."

He laughed, "I think your death would be more likely, but of course that has never stopped me before."

He licked her lips and then released her. Hank turned and waved to Joyce as he left the house, "Later lover."

Walter Doyle

Walter fought back every instinct in his body as he watched Hank through the window. His mind was telling him to run into the house and stop Hank, but his heart simply wasn’t in it. Something told him that Hank wouldn’t go too far, that’d be too easy for him. He was a predator and he needed the satisfaction of total destruction. Just taking his wife would be too easy for him. That’s what Walter told himself because the thought of him actually wanting to see his wife suffer was just too frightening.

Luckily for Walter Hank finally left the house and got into his car. Walter quickly sprinted for his own vehicle, climbed inside, and waited for Hank to drive off. Walter had seen enough movies to know the rules of the pursuit. He waited for Hank to get a ways ahead before turning on his own car and following him, making sure to keep a car or two between him and the monster at all times.

Walter followed Hank for the better part of twenty minutes until he reached an ordinary looking bar in the heart of New York. Hank slowly emerged from his car as Walter parked down the street.

Walter sighed as he looked around. Graffiti lined every wall he could see, trash littered the street, and a homeless man slept in an alley only a few feet from the bus stop. He exited his car and was promptly bumped into by a jumpy looking man who quickly ran away. Walter guessed it was drugs, but wasn’t going to stand around long enough to find out. Regretfully, he crossed the street and followed Hank inside the bar.

Shawn Christopher

Journal Entry #12 – November 23, 2009

"I could’ve had Julie that night if I wanted to. She couldn’t keep her eyes off me during dinner and it would’ve been just as easy as inviting her back to my place. Still, where’s the challenge in that? She’d deny it to her parents and me telling them what happened is nowhere near as enjoyable as forcing them watch me fuck their sweet, virginal, little daughter. I want them to imagine the terrible things I could do to her, before I actually do them. Without them wanting it, their minds will come up with horrendous actions and my work will be partially done for me. Maybe later, when the time is right, I’ve have a dip.

Walter was out when I visited. I’m assuming he went to a motel or something to get away from his wife. She’d been drinking and wasn’t looking her best. I’m sure my breath smelled bad, but hers wasn’t much better. Drinking alone in the dark, now that’s a bad sign. Her mind is weaker than I thought and unless I want her to bow out of this game early I’m going to have to take it easy on her for the time being. Still, I heard that moan she gave me. Despite what woman say, if you touch them just right, they’ll melt and let you do whatever you want. Most of them are fucking pigs; you can throw them in the mud and fuck them silly as long as you hit the right spot.

Speaking of pigs, one had walked by to my booth not ten minutes of me being in the bar. I figured I’d get my rocks off, little did I know what kind of mess that would cause."

Walter Doyle

"So, this is your place?"

The hooker twirled her grungy, blond locks as she chewed her gum much too aggressively. Her mini-skirt was short enough to reveal her thin, yet shapely legs, but not so short as to get her arrested. To Walter, she looked like trash, but Hank seemed perfectly happy with her.

Walter had sat at a booth across the bar from Hank and watched him put back a few beers before the hooker had walked by and engaged him in conversation. He could hear them talking about lewd things which would normally attract attention, but it seemed common place in this particular bar. The hooker wasn’t the only girl of the night working. One had even come up to Walter, but he brushed her aside lest his mind wander away from his task.

It didn’t take much chatter between the two of them before a price could be reached. Walter assumed that this wasn’t the first time around for either of them. Keeping his distance, Walter had followed them a few blocks away from the bar until they reached a high rise. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but it wasn’t nearly as run down as some of the neighboring buildings.

They took the elevator, but Walter stuck to the stairs. Unfortunately for him, the elevator was heading towards the 6th floor. Hurriedly, he raced up the stairs and just made it before the elevator opened. He thanked god that the building was old.

The two of them emerged from the elevator and slowly walked down the hall until they stopped in front of a door. Hank fumbled with the lock slightly before finally opening the door and quickly closing it behind the hooker. Walter quickly approached and placed his ear to the door.

"You want a drink?" he asked.

"Sure, what do you have?"

"Beer or whiskey Julie?"

"That’s not my name."

Hank’s laugh pierced through the door, "Tonight it is."

Walter frowned in disgust. He felt dirty just being outside of the door and hearing what was happening inside. It was as if being around Hank slowly corrupted Walter and made him sink further and further into the perverse and dangerous world that Hank inhabited. Still, he couldn’t go back now. Walter heard some commotion from within and then the voices grew slightly quieter.

"Come on, finish up and start me off with a nice blowjob. You’re gonna earn your money tonight."

He heard a glass being slammed on a table and then a door being shut from within. Walter listened carefully, but heard nothing. Slowly he tried the door and smiled when he found it unlocked.

Careful not to make too much noise he stepped into the apartment which led immediately to the kitchen. It was basic to a fault with nothing remarkable. The living room directly next to it was empty save for a small couch and a small television set. It seemed that Hank hadn’t been in the apartment long or simply didn’t care to furnish his home.

Walter checked the rest of the apartment to see if he could find his son, but his jubilation at taking the offense quickly wore off. His son was not there. Carefully, Walter approached the closed room where Hank and the hooker were making love. Approaching it he placed his ear to the door and could only make out a few muffled groans and sighs. Evidently the hooker knew how to use her mouth, something his wife surely didn’t. He quickly cast that thought aside.

Walter sighed as he pushed the door open and stepped into the room. The hooker quickly jumped away from Hank’s exposed member and looked shocked, just as Hank did.

"What the fuck are you doing here Walter?"

"Where’s my fucking son!"

Hank scowled as he looked over at the prostitute. She looked at him suspiciously and quickly tried to stand up, but Hank was quicker. He slapped his hands around her neck and started shaking her as he turned his attention towards Walter, "Goddamnit Walter, what the fuck do you think you’re doing? You want everyone to know our business?"

Before Walter could respond a sickening snap stopped the two in their tracks. Hank looked at his hands which were still wrapped around the hooker’s neck, but she was no longer struggling. Hank released the hold and the hooker collapsed to the floor. Walter was no doctor, but he was sure that her neck was broken. The snap was unmistakable, like a dog munching on a chicken bone.

"Oh my god, you killed her."

Hank looked more angry than upset, "Shit Walter, look what you did. You just had to be a hero and fuck everything up. You really think I was going to keep your son here?"

"Where is he?"

Hank laughed as he pulled his pants up, "Oh yeah, because you’re so fucking intimidating Walter I’ll tell you exactly what you want to hear."

Hank kneeled down and grabbed the prostitute by the hair and pulled her up to the bed. Placing her face down he sat down next to her, "Damn Walter, I was going to have some fun with her. I guess she’s still good but I was really in the mood for something living."

Walter couldn’t hold his disgust back. He violently vomited on the floor.

"Ah fuck man, you filthy fucking bastard."

Hank sprung up quickly and grabbed Walter by the neck and slammed him against the wall, "I could snap your neck just as easily as hers. You shut up and keep quiet while I think."

Hank let go of Walter’s collar and paced the room. Walter looked on in fear at the dead body lying on the bed. He had such high hopes for the night, but now it was all fouled up. He had fucked up again.

Hank went into the kitchen and grabbed a rag. Coming back into the room he rubbed down the doorknob to the room and to the apartment. He then tossed the rag at Walter, "Well that’s it for me Walter. Looks like you’re going to have a busy night."

"Wait, what are you talking about?"

"Seeing as you fucked up my night you’re going to clean all this up. There’s nothing in this apartment that ties to me. You on the other hand have a problem here. Cops come and find her lying here its going to raise all sorts of questions, questions we don’t have time answering."

"But I can’t."

Hank smiled, "Look, I don’t give a flying fuck what you do Walter. Just remember, you hold your son’s life in your hands so do what you must. As for me, I’m out of here. Oh and Walter…"

Hank rears back and punches Walter in the stomach doubling him over. Walter drops to the floor and coughs as Hank walks out of the room, "Next time, it’ll be much fucking worse."

Walter slowly rose to his feet as Hank opened the apartment door, "What was her name at least?"

Hank looked back with a confused look, "How the fuck should I know. It’s not like it matters."

And with that Hank walked out of the apartment.

Walter looked up at the dead body in front of him and felt like crying as he thought about what he would have to do. He didn’t know her, but knew her fate could easily become his own. He had to be strong and persevere. His descent into hell was now official and he feared there would never be forgiveness for this night.

To Be Continued