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+--- Thread: Clyde Sutter vs. Scarlett Carsons vs. Colleen MacDonald (/showthread.php?tid=4828)
Clyde Sutter vs. Scarlett Carsons vs. Colleen MacDonald - Kemal Yilmaz - 04-28-2026
SCW Television Championship
2 RP Limit for singles
3500 Word Per RP
Deadline: 11:59:59 pm ET SUNDAY, May 3, 2026
RE: Clyde Sutter vs. Scarlett Carsons vs. Colleen MacDonald - The Assassin - 04-29-2026
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April 18th, 2026
Charlotte, NC
Off Camera
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The building rose in clean lines of glass and steel above the Charlotte skyline, its upper floors catching the last light of early evening as the city shifted from the slow rhythm of the workday into something softer and more subdued. Inside, everything was quiet in the way expensive places often were, where sound seemed to be absorbed by polished surfaces and thick materials rather than allowed to echo freely. The lobby had been designed to impress without appearing to try too hard. Marble floors stretched in pale gray sheets beneath carefully placed lighting, and a single arrangement of white flowers sat at the center of a low table, fresh and deliberate.
Mason Van Stanton stepped out of the elevator onto his floor with the controlled ease of someone who had spent years mastering his composure. Even so, there was a faint heaviness in his posture tonight, something subtle in the way his shoulders sat just a fraction lower than usual. He adjusted the cuff of his coat as he walked down the corridor, his footsteps softened by the thick carpeting that ran the length of the hall. He looked every bit the man he had built himself into over the years. In his forties, Mason carried a polished, deliberate appearance that spoke of discipline and control. His dark hair, touched lightly with strands of gray at the temples, was neatly styled back, not a strand out of place. His suit was impeccably tailored, a deep charcoal that fit his frame with precision, paired with a crisp white shirt and a muted tie that added just enough contrast without drawing attention. Even after a full day, there was no sign of wear in his presentation. His shoes gleamed under the soft lighting, reflecting the same careful attention to detail that defined every part of him. Reaching his door, he paused for only a second, slipping his key into the lock and turning it with a quiet click. The door opened smoothly, revealing the interior of his apartment. The space beyond was expansive and modern, designed with a minimalist elegance that left nothing out of place. Floor to ceiling windows stretched along the far wall, offering a sweeping view of Charlotte as the city lights began to flicker on one by one. The skyline glowed faintly in the distance, a mix of warm and cool tones reflecting against the glass. Inside, the lighting was soft and ambient, recessed fixtures casting an even glow across sleek surfaces and carefully chosen furnishings. A large sectional sofa in a pale neutral tone dominated the living area, positioned to face both the view and a mounted screen that blended seamlessly into the wall. A low table of dark polished wood sat in front of it, its surface bare except for a single book placed precisely at its center. Everything about the room suggested order, control, and an almost meticulous avoidance of clutter. It was a space designed not just for comfort but for quiet authority. Mason stepped inside, closing the door behind him without a sound. He moved a few steps forward, loosening his tie slightly as he exhaled, his eyes beginning their usual sweep of the room.
That was when he saw him. Clyde Sutter sat on the sofa as though he had always belonged there, his presence cutting through the careful stillness of the apartment like something solid and immovable. He leaned back into the cushions with an ease that contrasted sharply with the precision of the space around him. One arm rested along the back of the sofa, the other draped loosely over his knee, his posture relaxed in a way that suggested both patience and control.
Mason stopped where he stood.
Clyde’s appearance had not softened since the last time Mason had seen him. If anything, there was a heavier edge to him now, something quieter but more settled. His long black hair fell freely around his shoulders, slightly tousled as though he had run his hands through it one too many times. He wore a dark jacket, unzipped to reveal a simple black shirt beneath, the fabric stretched across his broad chest and shoulders. His jeans were worn and practical, paired with heavy boots that looked entirely out of place against the pristine flooring of the apartment. There was a faint trace of the outside world clinging to him, the scent of cold air and something earthier, something that did not belong in a space like this. He looked like a man who carried his environment with him rather than adapting to wherever he went. Mason’s throat tightened before he even realized it. His fingers, still resting lightly against the knot of his tie, stilled completely. For a brief moment, his carefully maintained composure faltered, replaced by something far less controlled. Surprise came first, sharp and immediate. Then recognition settled in, bringing with it a quiet, creeping tension. And beneath it all, unmistakable and unwelcome, was fear.
“Clyde…” Mason gulps, his nerves clearly going crazy “...I wasn’t expecting…uh…how did you get here?”
“I drove.”
“Yes, but, uh, how did you get IN here?” Mason asks. “I left it locked.”
“You gave me a key. Remember? Back when you were my agent, you gave me a key just in case I needed it.”
“Right.” Mason curses himself over giving Sutter that key. “But, uh, what about Melinda? Shouldn’t you…”
“My beloved is perfectly fine.” Clyde answers sharply. “She is with her sister Fiona and their parents in Miami. I may not get along with Glory Braddock but I certainly trust her with the safey of my beloved Melinda.”
“Uh-huh…”
Clyde did not move right away. He simply watched, his gaze steady and unblinking, as if he had been waiting for this exact moment and had no intention of rushing it. There was nothing overtly aggressive in his posture, nothing that could be pointed to as a threat, and yet the weight of his presence filled the room in a way that made everything else feel suddenly smaller. The sound of Van Stanton’s own breathing, measured but just a little too deliberate. He straightened slightly, instinctively pulling himself back into the version of himself he preferred the world to see. His shoulders squared, his expression settling into something composed, controlled. But it was not quite enough to hide the tension that had already taken hold.
His mind moved quickly, searching for explanations, for reasons, for anything that might explain why Clyde Sutter was sitting in his home as though he had every right to be there. The question of how he had gotten in barely registered compared to the far more pressing concern of why. Clyde’s eyes followed him with a calm intensity, taking in every small shift, every subtle reaction. There was no urgency in him, no visible impatience. If anything, he looked comfortable, as though time itself had slowed to accommodate him. Mason took a careful step further into the room, the soft carpet giving way to the smooth flooring of the living space. His polished shoes made almost no sound, but to him, each movement felt louder than it should have.
“Do you have a problem with my visit, Mason?” Clyde asks. Mason, not wanting to offend him, or accidentally anger him, shakes his head.
“Uh, no, of course not. It’s just, you know, you DO have a match at SCW Hubris for the SCW Television Championship. I would think that you would be preparing for that, not visiting me.”
“Ah yes, the Television Title.” Sutter nods his head. “Scarlet Carsons and Colleen MacDonald believe that they are in control, they believe that they can control their own destinies, but the fact is that Fate has already written the script. I have already accepted it which is why I have the advantage. Ms. Carsons and Ms. MacDonald are too busy worrying themselves over this triple threat whereas I have placed my trust in Fate. Fate will bring the Television Championship home to me, Van Stanton. There is no need to worry yourself over that.”
The distance between them felt deliberate. Measured. Dangerous in a way that could not be easily defined. Mason let his hand fall away from his tie, the gesture incomplete, forgotten as his attention remained fixed on the man in front of him. The apartment, once a place of controlled quiet and personal sanctuary, no longer felt like his own. Clyde shifted slightly on the sofa, a small adjustment that somehow drew even more attention to him rather than less. The movement was unhurried, deliberate, as if he were reminding Mason that he was not going anywhere.
The city lights outside continued to brighten, their reflections stretching across the glass and casting faint patterns into the room. Inside, the air felt heavier, the silence thicker, charged with everything that had not yet been said. Mason finally came to a stop, standing just at the edge of the living area, his posture held together by habit more than ease. His gaze remained fixed on Clyde, his expression carefully controlled but his eyes betraying just enough tension to reveal what lay beneath. Clyde met that look without hesitation.
“Sit down.”
“I think I would rather stand, thanks.” Mason states uneasily.
“Suit yourself.” The Assassin shrugs his shoulders. “If you are afraid of what I might do then I assure you, you have nothing to be afraid of. Had I wanted to harm you, you would already be on the floor unconscious.”
“Right…” Mason gulps again “...uh, yeah, reassuring…”
“The truth is, Mason, that I came here to see you because I finally learned the truth about my origins.”
“You did?” Van Stanton furrows his brow out of confusion. “But I thought you already knew?”
“I knew bits and pieces but I never had the full picture. My sister,” he points a finger at Mason “the woman who has funded your managerial agency, she guided me along the path of revelations and what I learned was very intriguing indeed.”
This statement hits Mason Van Stanton very hard. He takes a small step back, hoping Sutter doesn’t notice. Mason is worried about what Clyde Sutter has learned from Lilith. He is worried about what Lilith has told him about his past. He is worried about how this imposing figure will respond to the truth.
“And, uh, what did you learn Clyde?”
“My father wasn’t just some religious freak, some cult leader like I was led to believe by people like you.” The Assassin stands up. This causes Mason to take another step back away from Clyde. “My father had built a small but organized criminal organization based around a quasi spiritual foundation. That criminal organization gave him power and influence. It gave him connections, sometimes powerful connections.”
“Really? You don’t say?”
“Indeed.” Clyde smiles for the first time since he arrived. “I always wanted to be a professional wrestler. Glenn Braddock and his wrestling school was my way in, or so I thought. When my inability to control my rage and violence caused me to get kicked out, I thought my dreams were over.” He points a finger at Mason. “But then YOU came along. You claimed that you had your own reasons for hating the Braddock family, just as I hated them for kicking me out of the wrestling school. You sold me on the story that we were getting our payback together. You told me that you were getting me into the wrestling industry to spite Glory Braddock and her family who you claimed had conspired to blackball me from the industry.”
“And that’s the truth!” Mason insists.
“Oh I know it is the truth.” Clyde nods his head. “But you left out one small detail. You neglected to mention that you had another powerful incentive behind helping me to achieve my dreams.”
“I don’t know what your sister told you but she is a liar.”
“The Van Stanton family owed my father a debt.” Clyde states. “Helping me break into the wrestling family was your way of repaying that debt. Am I correct?”
“Uh…” Mason tries to back away but Sutter closes the distance and growls menacingly.
“Do not lie to me, Mason.”
“Fine.” Van Stanton nods his head. “I admit it. You’re right. I mean, I did hate Glory Braddock and knowing how pissed she would be knowing that I brought you in to professional wrestling despite her best efforts to blackball you was brilliant, but I also knew that my family owed your family a debt, so I figured I was killing two birds with one stone.”
Mason Van Stanton has spent enough time around Clyde Sutter to know when trouble is brewing. He can tell already that The Assassin is growing more and more agitated. His temper is beginning to boil over. Mason braces himself for the worst as Clyde struggles to control his temper, to control his rage.
“I hate this, Mason.” Clyde shakes his head. “I absolutely detest this!”
“I’m sorry.”
“Shut up!” Clyde exclaims loudly. “I thought I knew who I was, I spent years believing I knew my past. Then a sister I never knew I had shows up and destroys that reality. She drops a bombshell by telling me that there is more to my past that I was unaware of. I thought if I were to learn the truth about my past that maybe things would be better. I thought knowing the truth would help.”
“Sometimes the truth hurts, Clyde.”
“Obviously.” Sutter remarks coldly. “Now that I know the truth, now that I know about my past and more importantly, now that I know who the hell I am, I am honestly not sure…” his voice trails off.
“Not sure of what?”
“I am not sure if I want to continue down this current path I find myself on.”
Sutter walks back over to the sofa and sits down again. Mason watches him carefully, studying him. Mason is again nervous and fearful but not for his own well being but for Clyde’s. He has never seen The Assassin this emotional before.
“You need to be a little more clear otherwise I can’t help you.”
“When you found me, Mason, what was I? What kind of person was I?”
“You want honesty?”
“Yes.”
“Alright.” Mason sighs. “I saw an uncontrollable monster. I saw a weapon because I thought I could control that monster and use it for my own agenda. Obviously your anger and rage was too much even for me to control.”
“Correct and that anger, that rage, it cost me my relationship with my beloved Melinda. But I sought out help. And in seeking out help I discovered Fate. This philosophy, spirituality, whatever you wish to call it, calmed me. It gave me the tools and resources necessary to control that rage. Thus I was reunited with my beloved.”
“It seems like this path you’re on has been working for you.” Mason shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t see a problem.”
“The problem is that it seems as if EVERYTHING has been chosen for me from my conception to now. Every single detail of my life has seemingly been set up so I would succeed, from the orphanage I grew up in, to coincidentally finding my way to professional wrestling, to you coincidentally getting me into the business, all of it seems as if…as if…” his voice trails off.
“It seems as if you have no control.”
“Precisely.”
“But isn’t that what fate is all about? Or fatalism, at least. The idea that there is no free will? That’s what you preach.”
“I know and I truly believed that this path was the correct one. But after learning the truth about my father, the monster that he was, I know one thing for certain and that is that I do not wish to become like him.”
“How does your sister fit into all of this?”
“She wishes to form a closer bond with me.” Clyde answers. “She wants me to work with her, as brother and sister. But I fear if I do work with her, I risk becoming like my father. And if I refuse, if I abandon this path I am currently on, if I cast fate aside altogether…”
“You run the risk of becoming that same rage filled monster, the same monster that destroyed your relationship with Melinda once before.” Mason states, finishing Clyde’s thought for him. Sutter nods his head in confirmation.
“Right.”
Mason Van Stanton stares at Clyde Sutter, seated on the sofa, looking confused, looking distant, not sure what he should do. Mason, this con-man, actually feels pity for Clyde and wants to genuinely help. Van Stanton approaches Sutter and sits down next to him.
“Look, I am not going t o pretend to know anything about fate.”
“Yes…”
“What I do know is that every religion, philosophy, spirituality, what have you, even political ideologies, any of it can become dangerous if taken to an extreme.”
“What are you suggesting, Mason?”
“All I am saying is that maybe your father was a bit too much of an extremist when it came to fate? And maybe you are bordering on being an extremist too? You can still believe in fate and preach it, but maybe you should dial it back some? Maybe you should consider that fate might not control every single aspect of our lives?”
“That is an interesting question.” Clyde concedes.
“Think about it like this; we know that this fate spirituality or whatever did help you to calm down and control your rage, but did fate reunite you and Melinda? Or was that YOU who did the leg work? Was it YOU who won her trust and love back?”
There is a pause and silence as Sutter sits there and considers the question Mason Van Stanton just posed. Clyde has long since refused to believe that someone like him could ever win over someone like Melinda Braddock based on his own unworthy merits. But what if Mason is right? Perhaps Clyde isn’t giving himself enough credit? And maybe, just maybe, fate isn’t as in control as Sutter was led to believe?
“Mason…”
“Yes, Clyde?”
“Obviously you knew that your family owed my family a debt. Your brother Henry, he claims that he had no idea that his wife is my biological mother. Tell me the truth…how much does he know about me? About my family’s past?”
“I hate to say it, Clyde, but I have no idea.” Mason shakes his head. “You know me and Henry have never been that close. It is entirely possible that I knew things he didn’t and vice-versa.”
“Then I must speak to Henry myself.” Clyde stands up. “Forgive me for introducing, Mason. This has been a very enlightening conversation.”
“Right, but Clyde?”
“Yes?”
“If you want my advice, I think you should take your sister up on her offer.”
“Really?” Clyde asks, sounding surprised. “Why?”
“Lilith has connections, a lot more than I do. Plus she is your sister. If you really want connections to your past, to who you are, then you could learn all of that and so much more just by being around her.”