NECROPHOBIA!
--Send In The Clown--
Chapter 2: Meeting of the Merchants... Mostly
Well, looks like you're back for another chapter – meaning I won the last match and get to tell you a bit more about how I got to be dead. But here's the sad part, we're going to have to do this with little to no commentary for me. Why? Don't ask me, word limits are a bitch! Yeah, well, anyway, as you can imagine, I was a little at a loss from Jekyll's death. He was a fellow merchant like me. More than that, his wife was my aunt and she was hurt. So I made a promise to her that we would find her husband's killer...
Fun fact: Did you know that I still have the gun I used to kill Ian Ryper? You guys remember him, right? Former Merchant of Death? Kidnapped me as a kid and locked me in the tenebrae? Did the same thing to my soulmate, Marina? Terrorized everyone in the Kings of Shadows to try and get his hands on the Merchant of Rule and thus rule the Underground? Left me no other choice but to shoot him in the head in his own home? Well, I still have the gun I used. It's locked in a box in my closet. Why do I bring this up? Because it's been years and I've not touched that box, barely thought about it – and yet every time I have to deal with some maniac after me or my family, my mind goes to that closet, to that box and to that gun...
Here's the problem. I had no idea where to start to find Jekyll's killer and I sure as hell wasn't going to find it in a box. Which is why, for the first time in two years, I called a meeting for all the merchants to attend...
Shilo took a deep breath as he watched everyone sitting in the room – the councillor room in the North Wing of the Kings of Shadows that served not only as the home of the Mind Merchant, Lester Malcore, but also as the meeting grounds for the merchants that ran the Underground. Quickly, Shilo scanned the entire room, taking in the members as they sat in their seats.
Rusty Lighter: The Life Merchant
Mark Lighter: Her husband and the Elixir Merchant
Gwynplaine: My daughter and the Shadow Merchant
Rameses: Her husband and the Light Merchant
Lastly, my eyes fell in the woman beside me, who held my hand in hers strongly. Marina Trent, my soulmate, and the Soul Merchant. Along with Lester and myself (The Merchant of Rule/The Necro-Merchant) we made up the merchants of the Underground. The only one missing was Edward and Faith took up his chair.
Faith: Read it again.
She asked, her eyes locked on Lester as he sat in his seat, the piece of paper in his hands.
Rusty: Why? It's pretty simple.
With a huff, the new widow pushed herself out of the chair, marched over to the Mind-Merchant and plucked the paper out of his hand. She could feel the smoothness caused by the lamentation – which was why the paper had not been damaged by its 'hiding spot' of sorts.
Faith: This was jammed in Edward's mouth?
Lester nodded.
Lester: Nomas found it during his initial search. There were no other messages or clues beyond what we know.
Casting her eyes down, Faith then turned to gaze at Shilo, holding up the piece of paper.
Faith: Bring out Shilo.
She lowered her hand but did not move from where she stood. Shilo, meanwhile, released a breath before pushing himself out of his chair, beginning to pace around the circle.
Mark: So someone wants Shilo dead.
Marina: Again.
A laugh came from Shilo, hearing the irritation and frustration from his soulmate and fellow merchants. What else was to be expected? It was always someone targeting him. Someone that 'wanted him back' because of some slight or some desire to take him down or some obsession or another. Hell, Shilo wasn't even sure the term 'rest in peace' applied to him, because, after all he did, he'd probably go to hell without a second thought, where all his enemies would be waiting for him.
Gwynplaine: But why Edward? Why not target father directly?
Shilo laughed a little as he stopped behind his daughter's chair.
Shilo: Wow, thanks hunny. 'Why didn't they just kill daddy flat-out?'.
Gwynplaine: No...I didn't mean...
Shilo: Relax... (leaning down to kiss her head) I was messing with you.
Marina: I think it goes without saying that we aren't just handing Shilo over.
Merchants: Agreed.
The noise came from everyone but Shilo, who merely continued pacing.
Lester: So, we need to lure this person out. How do we do that?
Mark: Well, in the past, it was a group with a leader. The Sovereign, Ryper, Brother Grimm – we've only dealt with something like this once before. Eclipse.
Marina nodded before speaking, smoothing out her white gown.
Marina: But with Eclipse, they exposed themselves after leaving us clues. We have nothing for this person. Not yet...
Rameses: It's the yet part that worries me.
There was growl in his voice, earning the attention of his mother, Faith.
Faith: Remy...
Rameses: It's okay, mom. I don't blame Shilo.
Shilo's head snapped up.
Shilo: You don't? I sure as hell do.
Rameses: Father knew the risks of being a merchant. We all do. And if we're going to blame one of us for what someone did, we might as well blame all of us. Everything Shilo did, we supported. We stood by.
Lester: Agreed. And it was Shilo's choices and our decisions that saved this place over and over again.
Shilo remained silent as those in the room gave their silent agreement.
Shilo: You're all wonderful and I appreciate it...but it's hard to just look past this.
Marina was immediately on her feet, moving over to rest her hands on Shilo's arm.
Marina: Shilo?
Shilo: Look, I appreciate it. I do! You have all been part of my family for years – maybe because it's been two years since anything like this happened, I let my guard down. I don't know – but I started thinking that a normal life, a life devoid of maniacs coming for us, of bitter offspring hunting us down – I thought all of that was behind us. Instead... Edward is dead because of something I did. And I... I don't even know what it is – or which 'thing' it is that I did... how fucking sad is that?!
Marina: You did what you had to do-
Shilo: Marina...
Carefully, Shilo removed himself from his wife's side to stand in the center of the room.
Shilo: I promised you, Faith, that I would find the killer. That was when I thought this was just some jackass, some psycho, looking for some cheap thrills. Someone that just wanted to make a name for himself. But that letter?
Shilo pointed to the letter.
Shilo: How many times are people going to hurt and pay because of my choices? How many times are people going to
die because of my decisions? Nomas got his hand cut off? Marina was tortured and branded?
Shilo turned and saw his wife's hand clutching her right shoulder, where the skull-spider and web tattoo had been placed on her skin from years ago.
Shilo: Gwyn and Remy? You were kidnapped. Lester was almost killed. And Faith – you lost your husband. All for people that wanted one simple thing... they wanted me back so they could put me away.
Marina: Shilo- no...
Shilo: It's true! That's all these people want. They want Shilo Valiant to come back so they can be 'the one' to put him down. That's all this is. That's all this has ever been! And with me no longer much of a celebrity – there's never been a better time!
A quiet, sad laugh came from the young man.
Shilo: Don't you get it? They just want me gone – they want me to know that I'm gone. Maybe... Maybe that's how I keep my promise to you, Faith.
Faith: Don't be ridiculous! You're my nephew, I'm not going to allow you to-
She made a move to Shilo, only for the former wrestler to sidestep her and march past her.
Shilo: I need...I need to think...clear my head...
Was all he said as he walked out of the room and into the tunnels of the Underground. Nobody followed him. Nobody said anything to him...
Nobody had the words...
You know that I still have the gun I used to kill Ian Ryper...
It's locked in a box in my closet...
Every time I have to deal with some maniac after me or my family, my mind goes to that closet, to that box...
To that gun...
________________________________
The logo of “SCW – Supreme Championship Wrestling” flashes and fades across the screen before there is the haunting sound of “Ring-around-the-Rosie” that is heard, as if from a broken music box. The camera fades in to the rusty gates that read “Carnival of Rust” before somehow zooming in through the gates and into the dimly light world. The view flies across blinking out lights that are barely hanging on and decayed “attraction posters” that litter the ground with the autumn, crumpled leaves of the season. Several different attractions are passed like the merry-go-round – stationary and rusty though it is – until finally settling on a broken down, dilapidated motel. There are gravestones in one part of the front lawn, some in pieces and fallen on the soft earth. The sign on the other side, closer to the building reads (in faded white paint):
“The Roach Motel – Haunted Home for Wandering Spirits”
There is a decorative, large torso of a cockroach leaving over the sign, gesturing to the writing. Slowly, the camera draws closer before the scene fades to the inside, where there is is a large, dining room with a long table and several skeletons seated around the table. There is much food and drink there as well, though everything seems to be either dusty or discoloured. Still, what the eye is drawn to first are the skeletons. Some are bent over the table, as if diving into their food. Some are twisted, staring in one direction or another. One is sitting rather regally, wearing a platinum-blonde wig. Another seems to be pointing from its spot, a cheap metal halo above its head that blinks on and off like a light, as if its running out of power. Still, that hand points to another section at the table, where the camera focuses to, the man sitting there, gazing at his plate.
“My name is Shilo Valiant...” the man says, eyes still down. “I am the Man Who Laughs...”
An echo of a laugh from last week is heard as it rings throughout the dinner table. Slowly, Shilo lifts his head to gaze at the camera. “And I... have a seat at this table.”
Shilo's face, devoid of any makeup, hold a rather serious expression.
“That's a line I've heard alot of in this tournament. Bringing something to the table, as it were. Like this whole tournament was some kind of potluck and everyone get to bring a dish of their choosing. Sad that so many settled on chips or some cheap drink you can buy on your way to the party. Because it seems that the only words coming out of the mouths of the flies is how my accomplishments 'do not matter'. That I am not to be feared or intimidated. That is what Jessica Lasiewicz has pronounced to the world.”
Shilo gives a shake of his head.
“Do you believe that your word is 'gospel', Jessica? Is that why you call yourself “The Archangel”? Or is it because you hold yourself so high above because of your success that it allows you to look down at the people like me – in this carnival of rust – in this dust and decay and say 'Pfft...The odds don't look good for that low-life'.”
Shilo's hands tighten and relax as they rest on the arms of his chair. “Odds... Perhaps you are right...”
Slowly, Shilo pushes himself out of his seat and begins to walk around the table of 'guests'. “I mean, you are Jessica Lasiewicz! Big star of GCW! I mean, your accolades in Global Championship Wrestling would rival the ones I have in Supreme Championship Wrestling. The house of GCW probably has a wing or some kind of plaque dedicated to you in its Hall of Fame, doesn't it?”
Reaching over, Shilo flicks the metal halo, causing its light to sputter on and off. “Too bad that doesn't matter, does it?” the former SCW Champion grins. “I mean, if what you say is true, then our pasts don't matter. Which means all your accolades wouldn't matter... which means if my accomplishments don't worry you, if the fact that I AM the last God of Wrestling does not give you pause and make you reconsider EVERYTHING that you think you know about this tournament... then why should I be worried about you?”
Reaching up, Shilo runs a hand through his long hair. “I'll tell you why I'm worried, Archangel... it's because I am NOT as stupid as you.” he shakes his head. “Last time I fought one of the flies from GCW, that rookie named D'nae Moore – I was outwrestled for the entire match-”
As he speaks, the shot changes to a chalice filled with red wine. Through its reflection, footage of the first night of the God of Wrestling Tournament is shown with Moore fighting Shilo and hitting him with a variety of moves.
“That girl – a nobody from GCW – wanted to make me her bitch... and she damn near came close. And while she certainly came close, she could not get the job done. One mistake...one error... was all I needed.”
The shot changes to an empty plate, the footage of Shilo nailing Moore with The Inside Joke is shown before changing to him raising his hand and laughing loudly.
“But a rookie - I will give her credit – was enough to give me pause. I almost lost that match, Jessica. I, the man that won the last tournament, almost got eliminated in the first round! Can you imagine what that would do to my legacy? For all the people that DEMANDED that I return? And a ROOKIE did that! So, while you may be a little fly like your GCW associate Moore – buzzing around with similiar words... while YOU are more than happy to stay in your ignorant state... I am not that foolish.”
Gently, Shilo caresses the skull of the halo-wearing skeleton. “If a rookie can give me enough worry, then I am not so stupid to scoff at someone that's been to the top of that talent pool. To win heavyweight championship after heavyweight championship. Who's family has had some effect here in SCW. I worry about facing you, Jessica. Now because I don't believe I can beat you...oh trust me, I do not doubt that I can. But rather, it's HOW I am going to beat you.”
“You see... against Moore, I had to pick my opening. I had to stay alert, take the damage and when my opening came, I had to take it with all I had. But with you? Who's been there and done so much in the ring, well... I don't feel like there will be many opportunities like my last match. No, my dear, to beat someone like you will require me to play on your weakness. Play on your shortcomings... and for you, dear Jessica... you have one massive one.”
Lifting his head a little, Shilo pokes the skull with his finger. “You, my dear Archangel, are a fool.”
A chuckle comes from the Entertaining One. “Come now, Jessica!
Nothing matters but this match? Nothing?! Are you daft? Have you forgotten what that night will be? Have you forgotten what is ahead of us?! Or have you forgotten who else sits at this table with us?!”
The camera flashes to a shot of each skull that sits at the table. Another is seen wearing star-shaped sunglasses and rings on her fingers. Another wears a headband and another has a tiara and gown around its ribs and forehead. There's even one with a beard glued on that wears a kilt!
“You and I are not the only ones that has a seat at this table, Angel-Fly! Not by a long shot! You and I are merely two players in this night that will see only TWO people remain at this table. And, Jessica, it cannot be both of us...”
Shilo shakes his head sadly as he once more caresses the skull of the halo-skeleton.
“You see, my dear, I have EVERY reason to be concerned about you because I not only consider the PAST but also the FUTURE. Things you laugh about. Things you say 'don't matter' – matter a great deal. Because tonight, the winner of our match goes on into ANOTHER match – or did you forget that? Were you so concerned with being “The one that beat the last God of Wrestling” that you forgot about what lies ahead after that?”
A grin comes across Shilo's face. “That's your weakness, Jessica. You don't look ahead. You don't consider things outside your limited understanding. Talented as you are. Accomplished as you are – A THREAT to me as you are – you are not smart enough to outsmart me. You are not creative enough to get past me. My accomplishments? Perhaps you should wonder just 'how' I got them by being tougher than most and smarter than everyone. By staying a step ahead and being ready to change the game, flip the script, at a moment's notice.”
Shilo's hand stops against the skeleton's skull, his gloved fingers beginning to tighten around it. “You see, Jessica, you need to be thinking about after you face me. What if you win? How will you get past that triple-threat match? After I've driven you to the brink and all those 'odds' that you've said were in your favour – after you've beaten me with your 'superior' abilities – what then? How will you have enough energy against two other wrestlers, both as hungry and driven as you are? Both that have made the same promises of 'bringing something to the table'? Will you face Helms? McConnel? Chase? Callahan? Who?! Who?! You must decide, Jessica!! You must know as you sit on your pedestal and say “IT DOESN'T MATTER”!!!!!”
On that last word, the skull shatters to pieces in Shilo's hand, leaving behind the metal of the hall and pieces and dust in Shilo's glove. With a sigh, Shilo smacks his hands together, dusting them off.
“Stupid...stupid....fly...” Shilo sighs. “All the talent in the world and no brains to understand what it takes to survive such a nigh.”
Slowly, Shilo turns his head towards the head of the table, where a lone skeleton sits, holding up an arm as if in greeting. It wears large shades on its face and there are tattoos drawn in marker along its arms.
“But we know better...” Shilo breathes. “Don't we, David...”
A smirk breaks across Shilo's face as he slowly moves towards the table.
“We know that everything matters. All of this matters. All these opponents? Even Callahan and McConnell... it all matters and all plays a factor... We know because you and I... we've been here, haven't we? You and I? We've danced this dance before, haven't we? And I've got to be honest with you...” Shilo drags his right hand along the table, his gloved fingers moving across the silverware and plates of food. “If there was one man on earth that I felt should win the God of Wrestling Tournament this year – if there was one person I believed was worthy of such a name... it would be you.”
Stopping for a second, Shilo's hand drifts up to the shoulder of the skeleton with the star-shaped sunglasses. “That's why I don't doubt you'll beat Ms. Hollywood here...” he says before he slams the skeleton, head-first, into the table, causing it to break and parts to crumble to the floor. “That's why I don't doubt who will be waiting for me when I outsmart Jessica back there. You're THAT good, David. Even after all this time, you are still THAT good.”
With a hop, Shilo jumps onto the table, his eyes still locked on the skeleton that sits as the 'master of the feast'.
“And you're too good to make all of this be for nothing, aren't you?”
With a grin, Shilo kicks a plate off the table, the clang of it hitting the floor is heard before he speaks. “I mean, let's face it, David. You're not an entertainer like me. You're all talent and no subtext. So, when you brought your WHOLE family to night one to witness your return to the ring – it was like your victory was a forgone conclusion – you were basically showing us just what happened...”
Another kick and Shilo sends a goblet tumbling, the red-wine spilling across the skull-face of the skeleton with platinum-blonde hair.
“I mean, did you BELIEVE that I wouldn't see it, David? Why else would David Helms sponsor a tournament, practically fund a major portion of it and then insert HIMSELF into said tournament? Hmmm? That was the first question I asked when Mr. Allocco came knocking at my door, begging me to come back. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure all he saw was dollar-signs, but who could have possibly put that bug in his ear to come and bring me back? Oh who? Oh who? Oh who???”
Reaching the end of the table, Shilo plops himself down, sitting cross-legged in front of the Helms skeleton, only a chalice of wine and a plate of food between them.
“Who else, right David? Who else besides the masses would NEED me back? Who else would NEED me to return just as badly as they did?”
Reaching forward, Shilo pulls off the sunglasses of the skeleton, revealing empty-sockets. He waves them a little in front of the bony face before tossing them aisde.
“Gotta say, I'm honoured, David. That you would go to such lengths to lure me back here. To bring me back to a wrestling ring and ensure I was placed in the same bracket as you. Is it all set, David? Are you going to have your whole family there at that night too? So you can FINALLY, and at long last, make-up for the ghosts that have been haunting you ever since you and I met?”
There is a moaning sound that seems to echo from within the motel, causing Shilo to look around before focusing once more on the 'host'.
“You are a Hall of Fame man, David. A Supreme Champion. A man that has done practically everything...
practically everything... heh heh heh...”
Shilo tilts his head as he sits and stares.
“Except two VERY important things. You never did headline Rise to Greatness, did you? Remember, David? 2012? You were challenging for the World title – all you had to do was win it back. Win one single match and you would have that remarkable main-event that few have achieved. I mean...have you ever asked your brother-in-arms Tommy Valentine what that feels like? Not even your wife, Regan Street, would know, would she? In fact... I don't think anyone at this table would truly know...”
Shilo grins. “Except me. Because who was it that stopped you, David? Who stood in your way and outwrestled, outsmarted, and outperformed you? Me. Of course. It was me that defeated you and went onto headline Rise to Greatness – and from that, David... I headlined it two more times in a row. Do you ever wonder what would have happened if it had been you, David?”
Shilo recoils, as if a sudden thought came.
“But it goes so much deeper than that, doesn't it, David? It's the real reason you conned Lucas Knight into helping you and then played Allocco to go along with bringing back the God of Wrestling! I mean... it's not the first time David Helms sold his soul to get ahead – is it?”
Holding up an open gloved hand, ghostly footage is shown of David Helms teaming with Dark Fantasy from years ago, holding up the tag-team titles.
“You sold your soul to the devils to become Pinnacle, didn't you, David? And all so you could become Supreme Champion... If the reward is high enough, that is what you'll do. And the reward for this? Oh it's so damn high...” picking up a handful of peas from the dinner plate, Shilo tosses them one by one into the skeleton's mouth. “You...can...taste...it.”
“Because, more than losing to me at Taking Hold of the Flame – what haunts you most, David? What keeps that smile from reaching ear to ear? What has driven you to plan this out? Heh heh heh...”
A small chuckle escapes Shilo's lips before it becomes a full blown laugh.
“You know what is so amazingly funny, David?! Everyone talks about the man that was the Last God of Wrestling! But no one mentions who came in second. No one mentions who I beat to become the God of Wrestling! Nobody remembers – except me and the guy I beat...”
Reaching out, Shilo caresses the face of the skeleton.
“Hello, second place...” he grins wickedly before snatching up the skeleton by the neck and hoisting it up to begin to dance with it around the dining room.
“You, David! Despite your greatness and your amazing abilities, always you played second to me. In SCW, in the last God of Wrestling! And now, you've risked everything, even your own soul, just to get me back and TRY and make it right for yourself! How amazing! How incredible! How entertaining!”
Shilo and his 'dance partner' dance around the table, passing all the other 'guests'.
“Because not matter how good Jessica Lasiewicz is, David, that is why I am sure I will win and outsmart her! Because I refuse to let YOU down! After all your hard work! After all your planning, what ingrate would I be if I didn't show up at the semi-finals to give an encore of two of the greatest matches you and I have ever had?! What kind of horrible entertainer would I be if I did not give you a chance to make all your dreams come true?! What kind of god would I be if I did not show up and beat you again?”
Stopping back at the head of the table, Shilo stops.
“You would never forgive me, would you, David? If all your politics and planning ended me slipping through your fingers on way or another. I think...like Jessica over there... you'd just...”
Moving his hands, Shilo grabs the skull and gives a sharp pull, causing the body to disconnect and crumble to the floor. Holding the skull, Shilo tilts his head. “Lose your head...”
Plopping down onto the chair the skeleton was sitting, Shilo holds the skull and observes it. “Alas, poor David, I knew him well... well enough to know what I am in for. And well enough to know that this will not be a peace of mind that you can simply 'buy', David. Just like you won't be able to 'buy' this tournament and the name of 'God of Wrestling'. Your biggest reason for this will be the greatest mistake you make... bringing me back into it. Because I didn't come back to be your 'retribution', old friend. I came here to bring back the entertainment... And NOTHING will be more entertaining than David Helms fighting Shilo Valiant for the third time... Calahan and McConnell be damned...”
Shilo grins wickedly.
“Yes... they will be damned, Jessica will be overwhelmed and outsmarted, I will be victorious once more, and you... you, David Helms... once more will make me laugh... make me laugh... MAKE ME LAUGH!!!!”
Quickly, after his scream, Shilo presses his finger against skull's mouth, his voice barely a whisper. “Ssssh... make me laugh...” before tossing the skull behind him, taking up a chalice and sitting with his legs over one of the arm-rests, the image of the content jester of the house as the camera fades...