Land of Shadows (1.09) Shadow of the Tenets

[Stormm]

Sunday, June 10, 2007
9:51 PM

The final bell for Collision Course had rung, and one man was standing victoriously, being handed the coveted Pure Class Wrestling World Championship, while another still lie on their back with the arena lights burned the memory into their mind. It was the worst sound in the world, that bell, when you were the one still on your back when it rang, and for Stormm, it was the sound of his World title hopes being ripped away from him… again.

Grimm’s arm being raised overhead was the first thing he remembered seeing after the referee’s hand hit the mat three times, and would be all he could think about for weeks. For months.

After all that the Force of Nature had gone through to get to that point. The controversy behind that year’s Icemann Invitational, and the best of five series he would endure with Andreas Lasiewicz afterwards to claim the victory outright, and earn his chance at the title. A title he hadn’t fought for since Ace Anderson prevented him from his first PCW World title sixteen months prior.

Two of the hardest fought years in Stormm’s career to that point, only for them to end 0-2. A shot he negotiated for that he probably didn’t deserve, and another he scratched and clawed for, and they had both ended exactly the same.

What could be worse?

A looming Pure Class Wrestling hiatus that would prevent him from trying to earn another shot.

Four years a slave to those demons that were setting up shot in the back of his mind as the crowd cheered and chanted Grimm’s name, and the lights glistened off the gold medallions of the championship belt that he had yet to hold.

Yet.

...Shadow of the Tenets...
Present Day

It was four of the longest years of my life, and that includes when you two were still really young. I could have gone and wrestled in any number of places, but I had done that jumping in and out of any ring that would have me early in my career, I wasn’t looking to go anywhere when it felt like I had found a new home. Don’t get me wrong, I had wrestled outside of a Pure Class Wrestling ring on more than one occasion to that point, and would do so again, but there wasn’t any other place without a Matthews behind it that I had as much history as in PCW. But the time away did me some good, and just a few months back in the ring, and under the bright lights, I would finally win it.

Dusk had settled in, and the waxing gibbous looked fondly over the valley as the locals began to settle in for the evening. Wispy clouds loomed overhead, and the silhouettes of ravens emerged in front of the moon and disappeared back into the backdrop of the night sky as quickly as they appeared.

“Hangtown.” Justin said aloud as he looked down on the sleepy hamlet he never thought he’d see again. The chill in the air nipped at his skin, while at the same time it welcomed his breath, revealing each one he took.

Almost every chimney in town had smoke erupting from them, but they were not the fire that he was fixated on. His gaze followed the ebon path of cobblestone that turned to earth as it ascended out of town towards the hollow. A pyre had been lit, and the orange glow on the outskirts assured the locals of Phinehas’ presence, while warding off outsiders.

Justin was hardly foreign to the horrors of Hangtown, and had been on several occasions in the past, but his presence on that night was hardly welcome. Was the fire a warning to the Force of Nature? Was the glacier gaze of the fiery red-head looking down onto the russet regard of the uninvited guest? Would nature play host to a battle before the oncoming war?

Only the shadows knew for sure, but it was certain that the Dillinger’s were aware of Justin’s presence, at least. And he knew that they knew! But his intentions were a wildcard they’d have to gamble on.

Narrowing his eyes, his focus turned from Grimm’s rituals back into town, down the hill from which he stood. Down to the Hangtown Savings and Loan.

There would be no fight under the stars. Even if the feud between Stormm and Grimm raged on like the fire that the Hangtown Horror stood by that evening; there was a better time and place for their differences to be settled.

And just like the moon, the history that those two had written, and would continue to write, came in phases. They would never truly be done with one another. Their legend would wax and wane, and each chapter would explode with violence when full, only for it to start anew with the next revelation.

Stormm and Grimm have been a staple to Pure Class Wrestling long before most superstars stepped through the curtain and out into the Pure Class Arena, and would be a staple to Pure Class Wrestling long after most of them quit or retire.

They don’t have to ask for it, it’s just a given.

And it’s just good business!

Granted, I would lose it a couple months later, and not wrestle for it again for two more years, but I had finally gotten that monkey off my back.

Yes, even if due to some ridiculous contract clauses, and two of the longest title reigns in the PCW record book with the North American Championship it would be another six more years before I would wrestle for it again.

Yes, even against Grimm!

No, I was not “shenaniganing!” I hadn’t “shenaniganned” in years. I might have been hooliganning, or no-good-nicking, I had certainly ne’er-done-well, and rabble-rousing was kind of my thing, but I was definitely not up to any shenanigans!

Would you let me get back to the story, already?

The grass was wet with dew from the cooling night air moving in on top of the sun-kissed day. Reds, yellows, oranges, and browns of Autumn moving into the valley were masked by darkness and replaced with deep blues, purples, and gloom.

Justin had to be sure footed as he skulked down the hill and into town. The lanterns had been extinguished long before he made his appearance, and one wrong step could spell danger. A mob of torch and pitchfork wielding backwoods folk surrounding him in the town square was the last thing he wanted. Especially when Grimm would be standing in the back of the mob with his shovel, waiting.

Wading through the tall grass, and tip-toeing over the loose cobblestones, he had made it most of the way through the moonlit streets when a dog’s bark startled the Force of Nature. He stopped in his tracks and looked around, keeping his wits about him. It wasn’t but a moment later and a handful of birds flew in overhead from a block of residence on the other side of town. “Damn birds.” He whispered to himself.

The Savings and Loan building was just a few short paces away, but it took Justin a moment to get going again. How was he going to get in? What was he going to find? What game was Kinzo playing at? Why Hangtown? Why is it always Hangtown?

Crickets cheered him on as he made his way to the front of the bank, and coyotes were signing their victory song off in the distance. He tugged at the door for the laughs, but to his surprise, the door come right open. The bell that would have normally jingled had been disconnected from the door, and no alarm was sounded when he stepped inside. He was definitely expected, and he was definitely on his guard.

All was dark and silent, like the calm before the storm but a flickering light could be seen coming from the back, and invited him through a nearly closed door into what appeared to be an office. File cabinets lined one wall, and stacks of paper were scattered about the room on every piece of furniture, and any flat surface with space to leave them. Vintage photos hung on the walls, and adorned the solitary bookshelf in one corner.

Justin rifled through several pages looking for anything Black Hand related, and only found banking documents, severely unorganized banking documents. Out of curiosity, he opened a few draws to the file cabinets to see if they were even being used, and sure enough, they were packed full. “Who can find anything in this mess?”

But as he turned back towards the door, light from the flickering candle that had been left on the desk shimmered off an object high atop the bookshelf. A set of golden scales with a handprint embossed into the front, and five golden weights placed on one side. Justin walked over and stepped onto a nearby stack of papers to reach the scales, and as he pulled them down, a black lockbox that they were sitting on came crashing down to the floor.

Paralyzed by adrenaline, he didn’t move, only listened. “Nothing?” He questioned. It was too much of a coincidence, but he was there for a reason, and wasn’t going to let a conspiracy delay him any longer.

Picking up the lockbox, he noticed the imprint of the Black Hand on it as well, and near the keyhole was a symbol of scales. Justin carried both back to the desk, where he shoved some papers to the floor to make room for both, and examined the scales. “Maybe the weights?” He questioned to himself out loud, as he’d noticed that when moving the scales, they were magnetized to the plate.

He grabbed the weight labeled “7½” and moved it to the box to see if the lock was triggered by the magnet, but noticed the scales making some clicking sounds as he removed the weight. Placing the weight back, the metallic clink of the magnet sticking back to the plate echoed in the office as the candle flickered away.

The moon continued to move across the sky that evening, and came into view through the two small windows up high in the office as Justin continued to inspect the scales, still tilted to one side from all five weights. He tried to twist and pry at them, as he could see there were obvious moving parts to the contraption, but nothing would budge. “They don’t make it easy for you, do they?” He asked himself. “Grimm, I can deal with, but all this Black Hand nonsense, has to stop!” Picking up one of the weights and tossing it onto the empty plate, he let out a heavy sigh. “I never asked for any of this!” He slammed a fist to the desk, and the scales showed life as the plates shifted, and mechanical workings could be heard from within the scales.

The 7½ weight sat alone on the left side of the scales while 4 others still sat on the other side. Only one of the other weights were labeled, this one with a “5”, the other 3 were of similar sizes to the two with labels, and just like the scales themselves, something clicked for him, and he quickly shifted the weights around to level out the scales, 15 on either side.

The gears and gadgets went to work, clicking and grinding away, and the scales themselves began to spin, raising the scales up away from the base. This went on for several moments until the whole mechanism appeared to break, with pieces flying away from the scales, and shooting a small gold key out onto the floor.

Justin quickly picked up the key and placed it into the lockbox, but hesitated before turning it. “If there’s an actual hand in here, I’m not waiting until Sunday.” Having said that, he turned the key, and the box clicked and the lid popped open.

“More banking documents, seriously?” Flipping through old documents, it wasn’t a complete waste, as at the bottom of the box was a black leather-bound book with an imprint of a hand in the leather on the front cover. “Finally!” He said in his eureka moment, grabbing the book out of the box before tossing it aside.

Opening the front cover, a handwritten title was inked onto the first page of parchment. “The Five Tenets?” Reading it out loud, the quality of the paper, and the age of the book did not go unnoticed by the Force of Nature. It was made to look old, but clearly wasn’t. In fact, in his time in the Black Hand years ago, never had Phinehas, William, or Michael ever mentioned anything about tenets.

“Kinzo, you certainly have gone through more trouble than all this is worth. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this whole thing was a charade meant to get under my skin.” Analyzing the situation aloud, he continued to flip through the book, and even went as far as smelling the paper, picking up hints of coffee grounds and dirt.

The cat and mouse game he and the so-called leader of this new Black Hand were playing was obviously leading to something, but to what, and what lengths had the man called Xiaolong gone to for the whole production? Blowing out the candle, Justin’s trip to Hangtown was coming to an end, and by that point, he was not in any favor to stay.

However, just as he was making for the office door, the bell to the door of the bank jingled, and sent him into panic as he contemplated every possible person he could encounter, and what he’d do if they found him. One more time, as he readied himself, he whispered, “Why Hangtown?”

It’s funny how many of the paths you take in life intersect with others, but never truly cross. That night in Hangtown I came to an intersection of two such paths. One that was quickly headed towards a dead end, and the other I had been walking circles on for years.

The path I was on with Kinzo and the new Black Hand was going to come to an end once and for all, I had no doubts. But Grimm and I, that path was an inevitably neverending one we were cursed to be on for the rest of our careers.

He’d stayed one step ahead of me on that path for the longest time. It started when he prevented me from winning my first World Title all those years ago, and continued with every match in between that and the one staring us in the face. I had gotten the better of him in very few occasions prior, but things had swung my way when I returned the favor, and prevented him from winning his first North American title.

The thing is, most people don’t challenge Grimm, they only ask for a beating. But after all those years, the fables of the Dillinger family that sent chills up and down most people’s spines had lost that effect on me. Maybe I was just being ignorant, but maybe I was finally in the right state of mind to go toe to toe with him for the biggest prize in wrestling.

No matter how anyone wanted to see it, I had simply grown tired of standing idly by while others got their “one step ahead” of me. It just so happened that Grimm was the man of the hour when I came to that realization. I wasn’t asking him for anything, I was straight up telling him that what he had, I was going to take. It wasn’t going to be easy, and it wasn’t going to be quick, but I wasn’t going to back down, and I wasn’t going to quit.

All those wins, losses, and title belts of the past, honestly didn’t matter. I wasn’t looking for one last hoorah to go out on top with if I won, and I wasn’t going to fade into the darkness with my head held high if I lost.

All that mattered was ending that next chapter of our story my way!