They Didn't Even Use Real Kaels!

“Victory belongs to the most persevering” - Napoleon Bonaparte

☠️☠️☠️☠️

…The Skies Above Arkham…

…The morning after Ascension Night Two…

A cool morning breeze washes over the balcony of THE SPIRIT OF ARKHAM, kissing Max’s greasy forehead. The golden rays of the Sun are starting to creep their way across the Miskatonic Valley. Far below the city of Arkham was starting to come to life as people prepared to start their day.

“Look at them down there. Just another day after an election, nothing has changed for them. They’re waking up, rolling out of their beds and getting ready to go to their mundane jobs.”

Max pours his contempt into each word, green eyes shining with envy.

“... to be a worker bee, ignorant of the weight and responsibilities of leadership. Raising those weaker and more pathetic than yourself, making them productive, ensuring their best qualities are brought forth. Nobody ever thanks you for it, they never acknowledge how good you are, taking all the credit for themselves. Oh, such a thankless job, to be a leader. You know this more than anyone!”

Turning, Kael brushes his oily hair back, a tired scowl contorting into a wide smile. “But the rewards and benefits! Oh so worth the headache, wouldn’t you say, Baron?”

Standing in the shadowy corner of the balcony was the dark robed necromancer, Baron von Taterton, his grey beard twisting in the morning air.

A slow rising chorus of voices speak in a long dead language, their words filled with pain and suffering. The sound reaches a fever pitch causing Max’s brain to feel as though it’s melting out of his ears. His eyes roll to the back of his head, the horrific noise strangling all of his thoughts.

Suddenly it ends and Max nearly throws up when his mind is freed from that oppressive noise.

“Great! We’ll get you a security badge next week after I’m sworn in! Great to have you on board!” the Mayor-Elect exclaims cheerfully. Wrestling's finest Necromancer waves his skull tree stick at Max before shambling toward the interior of the zeppelin.

“Taterton! Old man, I hope to see you at the PBA League of Immortals! I swear if I hear the Highlanders say there can be only one again when the brackets are announced, I’m gonna vomit.”

The familiar sound of Snark Darkly’s voice spills out over the balcony as Max’s manager greets Taterton. The two share a handshake with many strange gestures and subtle nuances Max barely registers. Once the mysterious handshake ends the Baron continues in his original direction while Snark oozes out onto the deck with Max.

The two turn to look out over the Valley as light pours in from the East. The Miskatonic Ridge, one of the northernmost branches of the Appalachian Mountains, bathes the land beyond in its colossal shadows.

“...I have completed the first half of our agreement, Max.” Snark begins, his voice both melancholy and sinister. “Now that we have secured your desire to be Mayor of Arkham we can turn out focus to the other task.”

“Yes-yes, and thank you for reminding me, Darkly, I was starting to forget.” Max snaps back, his knuckles tapping on the guard rail.

Snark smirks at his client's reaction, wrinkly face tightening up.

Max continues, his voice strained, “Becoming Mayor of Arkham is one thing but let me ask you something, how are you going to get me a Universal Title shot, hmm? There are several legitimate contenders ahead of me, it could take months before I’ve worked up enough credibility to even be considered for a title shot.”

“Years, even.” Darkly agrees with a stoic nod.

“YEARS!” Max snarls, his voice echoing across the sky.

Silence falls between the two of them, the Mayor-Elect’s anxiety growing louder in the quiet. His fingers dance nervously over the railing before he points a dour scowl in Darkly’s direction. Darkly smirks to himself, refusing to acknowledge his client’s glare.

“You still think like a man who lives on borrowed time. You’re still thinking in seconds and minutes. You. No, WE have the luxury of planning for years and decades. Resilience is the greatest weapon you can ever wield. To outlast your most hated enemy.”

“Yes, well, you don’t win the Universal Title by outliving the current champion. You need to beat them in a sanctioned PRIME match.” Kael sneers through clenched teeth. “... and you’ve got to get approved by Lindsay Troy.”

“That’s true, but with some patience and some carefully secured victories, a Universal shot can be negotiated on your behalf. You just need to be patient… and to persevere.” Snark turns to look at Max shaking his head in an admonishing fashion. “You’re just upset that, when we made this deal, you didn’t know Cecilworth Farthington was going to be Universal Champion. Now that he is, you’re trying to find any way you can to race to face him before he loses it. You’re regretting negotiating for me to help you win the Universal Championship, not for me to help you defeat Farthington for the Universal Championship.”

Max snorts indignantly, dismissing his manager’s words. Snark doesn’t seem bothered by his client's act, continuing. Like a poorly maintained animatronic, Darkly’s head wobbles and jerks slowly back toward Arkham.

“So we’ll do it my way. You can practice your perseverance at the next ReVival, my boy. PRIME released the card and your opponent already. Someone you’ve a passing familiarity with. A Legend even.”

Kael’s brow raises his brow, a speculative glimmer in his unnatural green eyes (different from fantasy lizard green). 

“Who is it then?”

Snark’s head turns abruptly, swiveling as though he were a bird. His knowing smirk morphs into a wide, predatory grin, sharp teeth jammed together far too tightly.

“...Rob Williams…”

 ☠️☠️☠️☠️

…The Kael Estate, Arkham, Massachusetts…

…A few days later…

“He isn’t coming for me.”

Kai sighs, kicking at the chain around her ankle.

“That’s not true! The Bryan Dawkins will come for you, I just know it.” the Herald declares cheerfully, his chest puffing out proudly. “It’s what good guys do!”

She casts Bentley an incredulous look from the bed, her mouth tightening into an upside down U.

“Max told Bryan wasn’t looking for me, that he’d given up.” she whispers, angry tears in her eyes. “That he and my son were living the dream without me. It’s been months. I-I think.”

The Herald rolls back on his heels, his eyes searching the room for an answer to what she had just said.

“... I would never besmirch the good name of the wise and wonderful Maximillian Wilhelm Kael buuuut maybe his intel wasn’t the best? Cause I don’t know, from what I was told The Bryan Dawkins joined the Red Army specifically to find you. Max was in the Red Army and it kinda stinks. You don’t join the Red Army unless you’re desperate or they have something on you.”

The Herald shrugs, filling his cheeks with air before pushing it out between his lips creating an authentic Farthington fart noise.

Kai stares at him and for a moment hope fills her eyes. It is almost immediately squelched as the weight of the last nine months crushes her soul.

Heavy footfalls begin to echo down the hall outside her door. The two exchange wide-eyed looks before the Herald scrambles to a nearby floor lamp. It’s not a good hiding place, it obscures almost no part of the Herald. Kai is about to point this out when the door to her room bursts open.

“TAADAAAAH!” Max slides through the threshold in a blue three piece suit and red bowtie. The Mayor-Elect gesticulates toward a fancy ribbon with the word MAYOR emblazoned upon it. It’s the kind of ribbon you’d expect for the Grand Prize for Largest Hog at a mid-west State Fair.

Kai stares at Max offering a half-hearted wave doing her best to pretend like the Herald isn’t standing behind a lamp a few feet away from her.

“I’m Mayor, biiiiiiitch! It was close but by an inch or a mile, right?” Max snickers as he strikes a pose. “Just coming to check up on my best bu-”

Max stops, the smile vanishing from his face as he notices the Herald standing behind the lamp.

“... uh…” Max turns to Kai, pointing toward Bentley. “Did you see him there?”

His guest shakes her head, “No! This is the first I’m seeing of that pest!”

Kai throws a sympathetic look toward Bentley before continuing her act of surprise and alarm.

“Get out of here you creepy weirdo!” Max yells, dragging the Herald out from behind the lamp before kicking him out of the room. “Go take a shower, we’ve got to take some pictures of you for our trip to Boston. Get!”

The Herald scrambles through the doorway before Max slams it behind him, his attention returning to Kai as he slicks back his hair. “Where was I?”

She points at the MAYOR pin on his lapel.

“OH RIGHT!” he exclaims, a smile dominating his face.

He commences dancing around the room, approaching Kai in a zig zag pattern.

“I beat that old witch Armitage and I’ve convinced the right people to help me install a hydro-electric dam with a nuclear reactor in the center of it!”

The words tumble out of his mouth with the kind of cheerful disposition you’d expect from a five year old explaining their favorite dinosaur.

“Why… why does a hydro-electric dam need a nuclear reactor in it?”

“In case there is a drought, obviously.” The Mayor-Elect brushes the question off with an anti-charismatic grin. The kind of grin that says nothing good about the person who’s wearing it.

“Well.” Kai says through a tight smile. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Thaaaank yoooooou.”

The two words drip with the petty venom of sarcasm, drawn out for Max’s own amusement while flashing those chrome teeth of his. The smile fades as he slumps down on the bed next to her, pouting.

“Unfortunately it’s not all rainbows and sunshine.”

“Boyfriend trouble?”

“Uuuugh I don’t even know what to call him.” Max admits, burying his face in his hands. “I was really hoping that Snark Darkly could provide me with a Universal Title shot before the end of the year. I wanted to prove to myself but more importantly, to him, that we were equals. That I was worthy, you know?”

Looking up, Max rests his chin on the knuckles of his hands, his mind reflecting on the last few weeks.

“... but there were missteps and Darkly doesn’t think I’ll be able to secure a shot against Cecilworth. He says I need to be patient and persevere, that we’ll get there eventually. I should have been more specific about what I wanted, but that’s contracts with ancient, exoplanar beings for you.” his gaze turns over to Kai. “The Devil’s in the details so when you don’t fill them in, the Devil will.”

A lot of those words were ones Kai recognized though put into that order didn’t really mean much to her. What the fuck was did exoplanar mean? He had a contract? She had noticed that Max often spoke as though he assumed everyone was aware of what was going on in his life. She had always thought Dawkins could be cocky but Max’s megalomania was almost comical.

Mostly frightening.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

The words were robotic, lacking any warmth or empathy. Luckily Max was an attention starved bitch and he didn’t care about how warm the words were, just that they were spoken.

“You always know the right thing to say to make me feel seen.” he sighs happily, turning to bat his eyelashes at Kai.

She does her best to stifle the bile burning the back of her throat. “Oh I see you. You’re basically the only person I see.”

“So lucky for you that I’m terribly good company… heh-heh.”

Sliding back up to his feet, Max adjusts his bowtie.

“So now I’ve got to do some grinding, and not the fun type, like with a knife. I got this guy, Rob Williams, to deal with. Nice guy, honestly, we did some work together in the past but, I don’t know, I feel like… like between you and me?”

He looks around, as though he were suddenly deeply concerned there could be someone listening. Leaning forward, Max whispers, “I think he has a little crush on me.”

Gasping in shock, Kai puts a hand to her mouth.

“No.” She delivers the word just as flat as Vickie Hall’s ass, pre-surgery.

“It’s true! I kidnap people, he kidnaps, you know. He kidnaps…” Max repeats, snapping his fingers as he tries to think of the word. “.. quasi-folks? I don’t know what that gold mask freak counts as but I think I pick better victims, all I’m saying. Just take the present company for example?”

If looks could kill, Max would be onto his third or forth incarnations.

“He’s renowned for his abusive nature and willingness to harm the people around him. He even cut off his so-called friends dick! But, and this-I don’t know if I can talk about it without getting upset. I’m gonna try.” Kael huffs, blinking back tears. His lip quivers though he pushes through. “... he didn’t even use real nails for a crucifixion match.”

“Incredible.” Kai snorts.

“Disrespectful!” roars the Mayor-Elect,  waving his hands angrily through the air.

Max marches to the door, swinging it open with a shake of his head.

“... I’m just saying, his behavior strikes me like one of those stalkers who tries to emulate the person he’s obsessed with but they’re piss poor efforts. Real dog water stuff. I mean they’re trying very hard but it’s just complete shit. That’s what I think is going on here. I’ve already got one sociopathic abuser in my life, I don’t need another lunatic tryin’ to win my heart. God. Why must love be so complicated?! Do you ever think of how much pain I’m saving you from keeping you safe here?”

A horrible, wretched laugh boils out of Max’s mouth as he slams the door behind him.

Kai’s eyes stare at the wall as she hears her warden’s laughter slowly fade off into the distance.

Once she’s sure he’s gone, Kai slips off the bed and moves her night stand away from the wall to reveal a small space she’s hollowed. She pulls out a metal file she’d cobbled together, giving it a critical eye before she begins sawing at the maniacal around her ankle. 

“Kai Makana, it’s time to rescue yourself.”

☠️☠️☠️☠️

…Miskatonic University, Arkham, Massachusetts… 

…Noon, the Monday before ReVival 75….

“What is your name?”

A bookish assistant stares up at Sutler, lost in the Son of Scion’s stormy eyes.

“Sutler Reynolds-Kael” the son of Max Kael mutters while maintaining a healthy brood. “I got a call to meet with Doctor Armitage. She said anytime after eleven-thirty was fine.”

The assistant’s heart flutters as Sutler brushes some of his long hair out of his face. Her eyes flicker down at the screen as she nods.

“Yes, yes I see she’s blocked out the whole afternoon for you. Go right in, cutie Er…Uh-I mean Mister Reynolds-Kael.” she sputters, her cheeks flushing red as her thoughts accidentally filter out.

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.” the SRK replies coldly, brushing past the desk and into Armitage’s office.

Stepping through the doors, Sutler was immediately struck by the smell of it. It wasn’t bad but truly… unique. Different from anything he’d ever smelt before. It reminded him of something both old and forgotten, like trying to remember someone else’s memory. It had the heavy qualities of a musk but with lighter, warmer tones. Whatever sourness lingered in the air only worked to enhance the overall scent.

“Welcome, welcome.”

The words cut through the distracting scent, drawing Sutler’s attention to their origin.

Doctor Millicent Armitage stands behind her desk in an ivory suit built around her lanky structure. Even in defeat she projects power and dignity, something Sutler couldn’t say about his own father.

“Thank you for inviting me.” Sutler steps forward, hesitating for a moment as he notices all the cases of strange, unpleasant feeling artifacts that surround him. His skin crawls and begins to itch uncomfortably as he approaches the desk. “... I think.”

Armitage offers a gentle laugh, beckoning him forward. “Once you cross the white line on the floor, you’ll be fine.”

Increasing his pace, Sutler quickly steps over the designated white line on the floor. As promised the anxiety inducing sensation ceases leaving Sutler relieved.

“What is that?” Sutler inquires, looking down at the white line.

“Salt. Morton’s kosher in this case, it’s easy to replace. Some people insist on salt harvested from the Dead Sea or from some obscure, hidden salt mine of a bygone age. They claim they have enhanced properties but I find normal, store bought salt works just as well.” the Doctor explains to Sutler with the same warmth as a grandparent explaining the secret to chocolate chip cookies is love.

Both settle into their chairs as Sutler gives her a measured stare, subconsciously trying to find the best lighting for his broody expression.

“So why am I here?”

Armitage studies Sutler from behind her cat-eye frames, picking over the tiny details of the young man.

“You’re not like your father, I can tell that already. It’s in the eyes, you haven’t read from the book his manager Snark Darkly’s been dragging around, have you?” she inquires.

Sutler huffs, shaking his head. “No, I’m not like my father and I don’t fuck around with creepy things like Snark Darkly. I stay out of my father’s business as much as possible, that shit will get you maimed at best, dead at worst.”

Millicent lets a slight smile touch her pale face.

“That’s good to hear. Your father doesn’t know what he’s doing, working with Snark Darkly and using that tome. It’s very possible he could trigger some kind of cataclysmic event that will hurt, even kill a lot of people.”

“Yeah, as I said, he’ll do that.”

“I might not have won the election but I am still keen on stopping your father’s agenda when and where I can.” she pauses, her eyes narrowing at the sullen Sutler. “... I asked you here to help me with that.”

The Son of Scions lets out a laugh though there is no mirth or joy to it.

“As I said, I try to stay out of my father’s business. More than that, however, is that my loyalty isn’t for sale. I know who that loyalty belongs to, I know who I believe in and the ideals I prescribe to.” Sutler stands, waving off the Doctor. “... I hope you know when to walk away, Doctor, because playing with Max? It only ends when he gets bored or you die.”

As Sutler turns to leave, Armitage stands up, slamming down on her desk.

“You’d really stay loyal to Max Kael? To your father after everything he’s done to you?”

Her voice is laced with outrage and accusation.

Hovering on the edge of the salt, Sutler gives Millicent one last angry glare.

“Who the fuck said it was Max I am loyal to?”

☠️☠️☠️☠️

Alright Rob Williams, let’s do this thing.

Remember a few years ago when you had me get all that dirt on Don Winters? 

Yeah, about his time in the madhouse and how his momma was fuckin’ around with his head?

Then you fucked the absolute dog when you faced him and lost the Five Star Title?

In that Crucifixion Death Match where nobody died and nobody really got crucified.

What kind of a pussy doesn’t use real nails?

Rob Williams is that kind of pussy.

If I’m being honest, my view on that might be colored by being from a shitty Death Federation.

I’m not ashamed of that, I did what I did and I am from where I’m from, I don’t apologize for that. 

And I know your dirty little secret!

You’re obsessed with me, you bearded fucksuckle. 

I see it in all your little angry, violent actions. 

The way you choose to hurt people.

The way you choose to hurt yourself. 

Hell, you even told people you were gonna die but unlike me, you couldn’t even do that.

I know, dying sucks but you know, it might have been the best career move you’ve ever made.

Listen, I’m down to help remedy that on ReVival. 

When I beat your grubby, fugly "Legend" ass and send you back to Decatur, it’ll be in a casket. 

Then Daytona Diamonds can have a funeral for you and his fuckin’ hot tub. 

I think I might keep your eyes for myself, though. 

When I’m feeling lonely I want to stare into a pair of eyes that love me back.

Or at least obsess over me. It’s basically the same thing. 

See ya at 75!

xoxo