The Freeman-Kael Chronicals: The Freeman Kaeltingency

“Hate to sound sleazy, but tease me, I don’t want it if it’s that easy.” - Tupac Shakur

-

..Training Facility K-67..

..Sometime after ReVival 53..

Max found a certain kind of peace standing at the bottom of a pool. Some sixteen feet deep with only the rasping sound of his breathing apparatus hissing in his ears. It was a great place to escape the noise and confusion of this world.

ReVival 53 hadn’t gone at all the way that Kael had wished it to go. Youngblood didn’t back down and FLAMBERGE didn’t even acknowledge his existence. Fucking rude. Further complicating matters was Freeman and Max's loss to the Twins? setting up a mad dash for a potential redemption title match.

Down here in the pool, though, all that was a distant storm. Submerged as he was, his rage, frustration and self-doubt could be burnt out through aggressive exercise. All of this, Tag Titles, FLAMBERGE… Youngblood.. They were ultimately all just means to an end.

And that end had a name.

Cecilworth Farthington.

“..Max..”

The cold, croaking voice of the Minister creeps through the fatty tissue of his brain. He can feel it spread like a drop of black ink in a cup of clear water..

“..They’re laughing at you. And us..”

The patterns of light created by the surface of the water contort and twist as the Minister’s presence grew in intensity. Shadows crept from the corners of the pool around Max taking the shapes of innumerous unpleasant crawling things.

“..They think we’re some kind of a joke.. I’ve watched from the depths of your mind, Maximillian. Watched the way they dismiss you. Watched the way they have discounted you. Do you remember who we are? You shouldn’t forget who we are. It’s time to find more like-minded individuals to help us..”

Bubbles flutter out of his oxygen mask while Max’s eyes stare at a particularly unnerving cluster of quivering shadows. He can feel the Minister staring back out of him from that pitch miasma. Furrowing his brow Kael lets out a low, frustrated growl. He had no idea what the Minister was talking about.

Like-minded individuals? There were no like-minded individuals like Max. That was generally what got him in trouble with PRIME Management.

“..heh-heh.. The answer. It has been staring at you for the last six months. Kenny Freeman.”

His brow furrows as another cascade of bubbles roils from his mask.

Kenny Freeman?

Unless Kenny Freeman had 99.9% pure alcohol for blood, how the fuck was he a solution?

“Think Maximillian.. Think.. What is more dangerous than one Max?..”

And then with dawning realization a smile graces Max’s face, the first one in almost a week.

Of course, he thought, of course! How could he have forgotten..

…the Multiverse…

-

I asked Jack today if he regretted having a brother. 

He said he didn’t regret having a sibling.

He regretted having one like Kenny Freeman. 

Fabulous.

-

CLASSIFICATION: CLASSIFIED

DATE: 14th August 2024

MEMORANDUM FOR:  Commissar Maximillian Wilhelm Kael

SUBJECT: Cease and Desist

Commissar Kael,

It has come to my attention that you have failed to secure a match with FLAMBERGE and Brandon Youngblood. I have also been informed that you have failed to terminate your tag team partnership with Comrade Kenny Freeman, who once again failed to meet the lofty expectations of the Red Army.

This is an embarrassment to both myself and to Mother Russia. Have you seen the drizzle shit that has come out of the woodwork eager to feast on the wounds of the Red Army? American dogs, mindless social media whores who make their presence known by attacking us publicly!

Unlike Ivan Stanislav, I will not tolerate failure in my modernized vision of the Red Army.

SECURE your match at UltraViolence.

TERMINATE your tag team with Kenny Freeman.

Or there will be CONSEQUENCES.

Sincerely,

Colonel Ratimir Nekkshov ГРУ-19

-

I asked Momma Freeman if she regretted having a son like Kenny Freeman.

She only cried and wailed and demanded to know what happened to Jack. 

Anna Daniels said something on Jabber that pissed me off.

So I lied to Jack and told him his mother had accepted an offer to return to America if she abandoned her sons. 

I’m feeling much better.

Jack didn’t cry.

..Much..

-

..Undisclosed Location..

..The Next Day..

Having seen the impact the ReVival 53 loss has taken upon the Commissar of the Red Army, we turn our attention now to its junior members in the Masters of the Moscowverse, walking around in a curious spot. Along the dimly-lit hallway is a series of LED panels, rows of information of some sort flashing as the pair pass by, focused solely on their conversation.

“Hey man,” says Randall, his arms up in a bit of a shrug. “I still dunno how you two managed to lose, but I gotta be honest…those guys sure as hell didn’t look like Twins.”

Kenny can’t help but roll his eyes at this, letting out an annoyed sigh in the process as he glances at the information cycling through on the wall beside him. Somewhere in all this technobabble is a line that catches his eye.

VRPH WKLQJ XQSOHD VDQW DERXW PDA NDHO

Kenny seems almost entranced by this odd sequence of letters. If there’s one thing he knows about Aeon Khronos, it’s that nothing about him is random…so why does this feel so out of place? His trance is eventually broken as Randall pushes him by the shoulder.

“Never mind that,” he eventually replies, still feeling that frustration from being driven into the canvas just seconds before they failed to pick up the win against The Anglo Luchador and Zapp Scatino. “The point is, we lost. That’s something we have to shoulder the responsibility for, and I fully expect to be taking my share of the blame.”

“Fair enough,” the Entertainer responds with a nod. “I’m just sayin’, if we’d known those two weren’t really twins we could’ve prepared more…I dunno, efficiently? Proficiently? Indubiously?”

That last word just garners a confused stare from Kenny as they finally arrive at their destination to find Aeon Khronos, their pal of a thousand realities, giving them a very confused look indeed.

“And just what are you two doing here?” he asks, furrowing his brow at the sight of them. “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t keep bumping into each other like this, I’m very busy at the m--”

“I need your help,” Kenny blurts out, immediately drawing a chuckle from Khronos.

“With what? You do realize, Kenny, that a certain Council has meddled so much in affairs they shouldn’t be, breaking their own promise as a result, that no less than five of them are roaming around that Bang Pro place, masquerading as professional wrestlers?”

“You’ve got it all wrong,” remarks Randall. “I think you’ll find it’s pronounced Bang! Pro.”

“No need to shout,” Aeon replies. “That’s very rude. As for you, Kenny, I think you’ve abused my help quite enough already.”

“I…I…” Kenny starts to stammer, finally getting the proper words to speak. “I’m just here for advice, man.”

“Oh, advice!” Aeon exclaims, his eyes widening in surprise…only for his mouth to reveal a smirk, indicating the sarcastic dripping from the remark. “I tried giving you advice before, haven’t I? I specifically told you to stop hanging around Ivan Stanislav and his ilk, and what did you do? Hmm? You let his ilk add on Max Kael, of all people!”

Aeon turns his back to them, focusing his attention on the instrument panel as he begins looking over the buttons flashing before his very eyes.

“Hold on,” states Kenny, quickly becoming inquisitive in light of that last statement from his universe-traversing friend. “You know about Max Kael?”

Aeon slowly turns around, facing Kenny with a glare as he answers the question with one of his own.

“You don’t?”

Kenny looks almost taken aback by the response, looking to Randall who scratches his head before chiming in.

“What does that even mean? What should we be aware of?”

The sudden shift to silence from Aeon is unnerving for the pair, as the man usually quite adept at handling major threats suddenly appears…uncertain, how to respond. Alas, silence must be broken eventually.

“I think you already know what I’m talking about. Don’t you…Kenny?”

Kenny takes a gulp of air, thinking back to his recent experience training with the Red Right Hand of Communism. The flashbacks start, well, flashing back in his mind as he remembers how hard Max pushed him…which got him thinking about his little rendezvous with Gregori. The panic starts to settle in, sending shivers down Freeman’s spine…something Aeon picks up on with a knowing nod.

“Exactly. Kael is a dangerous man, and running around with him is a surefire way to get yourself in far more trouble than you could ever want.”

Khronos focuses his attention past Kenny’s shoulders, seemingly staring at the empty hallway behind him, glaring as if expecting to see something wicked make an unexpected visit.

“I can see that coming here was a mistake,” Kenny responds, his face just about in a snarl at the message being delivered to him. “If that’s how you feel, I’ll leave you the hell alone.”

“Probably for the best,” Aeon replies, his attention still drawn to the growing concern looming. “If you really want some advice, consider keeping a close eye on your surroundings for a while. Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?”

“The Shadow kn--” Randall’s incessant need to finish a dated reference gets a nasty glare from both Kenny and Aeon, the latter refusing to keep his eyes off the Masters as they make haste in exiting back down the hallway. Moments later, we see them stepping out of the door of a grandfather clock, a curious facade for such a grandiose vessel as it seems to flicker out of view…leaving the pair all by themselves inside the locker room of the training facility.

Well, alone for all of thirty seconds, as a wriggling, oozy pile of shadows slinks across the far corner of the room. And then he’s there, wild eyes staring down at Randall and Kenny, a terrifying smile pulled taunt across his pallid face.

“..my bois.. Heh-heh..”

Max Kael slithers through the darkness like an eel, sniffing the air aggressively as his eyes wander the room.

“And what’s this I smell?.. A delicate waft of forbidden knowledge? The distinct scent of trans-dimensional hi-jinx?” Kael hisses through his glimmering, golden teeth. His tongue flickers out as though he were a snake tasting the air around.

Finally his eyes settle on the grandfather clock. His pale face flushes with greedy expectation, turning back to Kenny.

“I think it’s time we talked about the Multiverse. Heh-heh..”

If one were to look closely, they could just about make out Kenny mouthing “ah, shit” before taking another gulp of air.

-

I asked Poppa Freeman if he regretted the way he had treated Kenny.

He couldn’t answer because his jaw is wired shut thanks to his son.

I could see the answer in his eyes though.

I saw it in my own Father’s eyes when he looked upon me with disgust. 

His regret wasn’t that he treated Kenny badly.

It was that he didn’t treat him worse. 

-

..Undisclosed Secret Science Facility..

..Somewhere in Russia..

“As you can see, Comrade Freeman, we’ve been busy!”

The Commissar of the Red Army directs Kenny and Randall down a metal staircase that leads to a massive underground facility. Dozens of scientists, techs and soldiers rush across the facility floor, all doing their best to avoid the Commissar’s wandering gaze.

“Well, not me specifically. Ever since FSB found out you and your comrade had been dipping in and out of other dimensions they’ve been trying to recreate the technology. Unfortunately without any samples of the technology and only a few recordings of your..” Max pauses, looking over at the two with a toothy grin. “..comings and goings, the scientists here have hit a bit of a snag.”

The sound of Max’s boots on the metal stares as he marches down them echoes through the large chamber.

“Thankfully for everyone here, given how close we all are, I was brought on to the project.. Heh-heh..”

Max spins around, his arms wide open. Black leather gloves dance out in expressive jazz hands for dramatic effect.

“See, my old man, Wilhelm Kael, had a lot of real Cuuuh-raaaazy ideas and one of them was actually trying to breach into other dimensions. He spent decades trying to figure out how to do it, he even dedicated a considerable amount of his own wealth to the project. I couldn’t tell you why, the old cote wasn’t what we consider a stable genius like me, but thankfully what he did discover I was able to bring over.. But..”

The smile on Max’s face vanishes, replaced with an overplayed frown. His shoulders slump as he takes on a more pitious appearance.

“..alas I’m no expert on moving between dimensions or those pesky little details that allow us to plot a course. But you two.” Kael says, placing a hand on either man’s shoulder. “..you’re both experienced travelers AND I suspect you know a few secrets that miiiiiight help our research progress forward. Imagine, Kenny.. Imagine Randall.. Free movement for us between the dimensions, the ability to find and train with the very best of the Multiverse! Why, we could face our opponents a thousand times over before we ever have to face them in the PRIME ring! Imagine the advantage we’d have! But it only works..”

His voice lowers as he drops his chin slightly.

“..if you two are on board.”

Kenny and Randall just stare at Max blankly for a second, before turning their attention to each other.

“You wanna tell him, or should I?” asks Kenny, only to cut Randall off as he opens his mouth to respond. “That was a trick question.”

With that, Kenny turns his attention to Kael.

“We’re more like passengers on the great taxi service that is traversing the Multiverse,” Kenny states matter of factly. “We go where there’s an open pathway, or else we don’t go at all. Sorry if that bursts your bubble, but--”

For some inexplicable reason this garners a chuckle from Randall, causing Kenny to turn around and stare him down. Randall notices the look his friend is giving, clearing his throat with a salute toward Max.

“Sir!” he exclaims, trying to look as professional as possible. “Where there’s a Wilhem there’s a way, and we will find a way, Max Wilhem.”

This causes Kenny to roll his eyes…but Max?

The Jabberlord stares at both men, running his tongue over his teeth as he considers their words carefully. Releasing their shoulders, Max’s fingers stroke his chin before he turns, his arms folding neatly across his back.

“Oh don’t worry my friend! My comrades, you know, you’re quite right. Sometimes it takes a Maximillian Wilhelm Kael to get the job done. So tell me about this Taxi Service? Can you bring them here? Summon them? Put out a call?”

As he continues to ask the two questions he leads them further into the facility, deeper into this Soviet lab. Kenny is still staring somewhat angrily at Randall, who starts reflecting more and more on the taxi metaphor his friend delivered…before raising a hand up in the air.

“Randall, what are you doing?” Kenny asks, his anger quickly turning into confusion.

“You called it a taxi service,” remarks the Entertainer in response. “How else do you get a taxi?”

“That’s not how taxis work,” Kenny quickly replies, his brows starting to furrow once again. “At least, not from my part of t--”

And yet, despite all evidence to the contrary, Randall’s crazy scheme works. A bright orange light flashes as a circle removes a chunk of the space-time continuum, causing a near-panic from Kenny as he stares through the hole left behind. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, Kenny knew that Aeon was right…but when you have a key to the kingdom in your hand, you can only do so much to stop the key from turning.

Max slowly turns to join Kenny in staring at the glowing orange bloom. A snarl of confusion slowly melts into a grin of realization.

“Randall Schwartz, you clever monkey!” Kael exclaims as he takes a step toward hesperidium blush bubbling up between realities.

Kenny, for his part, simply lets out a heavy sigh.

“Alright, Max,” he states flatly. “But we gotta get back in time for ReVival 54. Never miss a booking due to ‘verse hopping, that’s our number one rule for these things.”

“Number two is watch where you poo,” Randall adds with a chuckle. “Rules are made for a reason, but I think we’ll spare you the explanation on that one.”

“Watch where I shit, be back in time for our match with Ellis and Dawkins. Easy enough!” Max affirms though his attention seems to be completely and wholly taken up by the growing rift. “..don’t worry, we’ll be in and out, twenty minutes, tops..heh-heh..”

A thin string of gossamer spittle dribbles from the corner of Max’s mouth as he stares hungrily at the growing portal. His head lolls to his shoulder as he bats his eyes adoringly at both Kenny and Randall.

And then he starts to laugh. A loud, obnoxious, and deeply uncomfortable laugh.

-

CLASSIFICATION: CLASSIFIED

DATE: 14th August 2024

MEMORANDUM FOR:  Starshy Praporshchik Ivan Stanislav

SUBJECT: Doubling Our Efforts

Comrade Ivan Stanislav,

First allow me to offer my most humble apologies for the failed efforts this past ReVival by both Kenny Freeman and more importantly, myself. I have promised to lead Kenny Freeman to victory in this Tag Team Tournament and claim the PRIME Tag Team Titles for the Red Army. Our loss to the Twins? on 53 was a regrettable and entirely avoidable defeat.

As you are no doubt aware this means that the Twins? have secured their own berth in the finale match. This has put Comrade Freeman and myself in a no-lose scenario if we wish to see ourselves ultimately hold the Gold.

We engage the team known as Hawaiian BBQ, another stupid name (seriously, who named these fucking tag teams?) at ReVival 54. The only hope they have is to try and spoil our own Tag Team dreams, something I WILL NOT ALLOW to occur. Freeman has a previous history with Ellis which has provided me with invaluable insight. Using this knowledge will shall CRUSH THEM.

Also might have cracked the Multiverse issue.

You’ll never guess where I took a shit!

Oh also pretend I slipped a Hawaiian BBQ joke in here somewhere.

Hugs and Kisses,

Commissar Maximillian Wilhelm Kael

-

..More than Thirty Minutes Later..

..but still before ReVival 54..

“No, no, don’t worry about it Kenny. Of course, what are Comrades for?”

Max kicks his feet up on his desk as he holds his cellphone to his ear, a Tony Gamble-esque grin carved on his face.

“No, I wouldn’t break Rule Number Two. What am I, some trans-dimensional hopping novice? Besides, aren’t you going to ask me about our guest?”

The grin on Max’s face twists tighter, his golden teeth clenching together.

“He’s settling in just fine. Juuuust fine. Now all I need you to focus on, Comrade Freeman, is our upcoming match with Ellis and Dawkins. Yeah, I know their name is Hawaiian BBQ but I refuse to call them by that stupid fucking name. Neither of them is even BBQ, a regrettable decision by both.”

A Red Army soldier scampers into Max’s office with a harried look on his face. He awkwardly salutes the Commissar.

“Hey, buddy, something’s come up. But before you go, always remember, Comrade.”

He holds the phone out in front of his face as though he were staring directly at Kenny.

“I believe in Ken Freeman.”

Max promptly hangs up the phone, tossing it down on his desk before turning his attention to the guard.

“..Go on?”

“[The.. your guest attacked two physicians attempting to examine him. The captain is demanding you deal with this before risking anymore personnel.]” the soldier sheepishly informs Max.

“Oh he sounds fun!” Max says excitedly, climbing up from his desk before glissading to a bank of security monitors. His eyes dance over the screens until they fall on Interrogation Room 101 which is bathed in complete darkness.

“[..your guest destroyed the light fixture in 101..]”

Leaning down, Max taps the monitor before his eyes catch something moving.

“Tell the Captain I’ll be down..” Max sings, excitement bubbling through his pursed lips. “..and see to my guest.. Personally. ..heh-heh..”

In the black void of 101 a small spark flickers to life.

And a single point of red spite burning with the one thing Max’s recognizes best in the world.

High octane fueled hatred.