Post by Stormm on Jul 14, 2020 21:26:35 GMT -5
His knotted hair partially covered his face, darkened from years of neglect, while blood stained anything that would have been visible through the matted mess. An overgrown, scraggly beard hid the rest of his face from the world.
The man, unknown to most, if not all, curled up in an alleyway under his fresh cardboard box lean-to on the backside of a dumpster. The showers that came off of Lake Michigan that morning had turned his last shelter into mush, and with the tarp he used to keep his home dry with being stolen during his previous night in a Lansing prison, he’d have to make do.
Despite the obvious misfortune and lack of identity, he had become sort of a local hero to some, yet a nuisance to others. Mainly the police. After his first stay in jail for attempted robbery, which he would still deny; the homeless giant, standing at least six and a half feet tall, and weighing well over two hundred pounds, stalked the shadows, preying on those that preyed on others.
Lansing was not short on crime, and with one in twenty-four people likely to be a victim, he’d tried his best to help out one in that one in twenty-four each night. He didn’t do it for the glory, or for payment, not that he’d decline either, but he did it to meet people, to try and find anyone that might recognize him. That might know him.
Because the man, who was unknown to most, if not all, was even an unknown to himself.
Desperate to find someone, anyone.
Desperate to find himself.
Yet, after all the months of defending people from domestic assaults and petty theft, with only a knife wound and the memory of almost being shot to remember it all by, he was approached by two individuals that morning that would set the stagnant nomad back on the path to find who he really was.
Not in the way he’d hoped, but at least one that would get him off the streets. At least for a little while, anyway.
...Shadow of the Lone Wolf...
It was a long shot, taking a photograph, a name, and a story to the state of Michigan and expecting to get anything out of it. But that’s what I had set out to do. Like I said, knowing Kaden’s mother was from Lansing, or, well, thought to have been from there anyway, that seemed like the best place to start.
Normally around a pay-per-view and a high-profile match like I had upcoming at that time, I would have spent more time at home training as well, but I was confident that the measures I took against Jason the month or so prior that match was more than enough to solidify the outcome of our match.
Not only that, but it wasn’t the Stormm versus Jason Willard match I wanted. It wasn’t the match the PCW Faithful wanted. Hell, even your mother agrees that match wasn’t going to be what it could have been. It wasn’t even the match that Jason himself wanted, he just didn’t know it yet. But he was going to realize, one way or another, that something was missing from the match, and it wouldn’t be what either of us truly wanted until it was present. Until HE was present.
Nevertheless, we all spent a good week or two in Michigan that Summer, talking to anyone who would listen, and showing Kaden’s photo to anyone willing to take a look. Most of the people working in the businesses I went to weren’t even working there back when he would have possibly been in town.
His name didn’t score any hits with the police either, and while there were a couple people who looked close to the photo we provided them, nothing came back in their database based off a picture taken over a decade earlier.
It wasn’t until I started asking around a small community of Lansing homeless that I got my first hit. I don’t even remember what her name was, but she showed me around some of the places Kaden had lived, and talked about the vigilante shit he was doing to try and get noticed.
She didn’t have a lot more information other than those few locations, a couple stories about talking to him, and him being kind of an odd character. That, and the Homeless Hero, protector of Lansing, folk hero nonsense that I thought people had obviously been blowing out of proportion all those years.
But, it was enough to take back to the police and ask more questions, and after ten or so days, we had another lead.
Turns out, he’d been arrested numerous times for assaulting people who were in the middle of committing felonies. Truly a hero to some. He was just trying to get his face out into the world, hoping someone could tell him who he was. Or at least that’s what the handful of cops who were on the force during his time in the city recalled.
Apparently, Dr. Sorrow had really played a number on him, and had his memory completely wiped from prior to the night they dumped him in Nebraska. But the fact that they could never get any hits on who he was, and never had any evidence that he’d done more than beat up criminals who were in the process of illegal activities, they never held him for long. Too much liability and paperwork, they said. It was careless for sure, but it wasn’t my place to judge, and they had given me what I was looking for.
But the last they heard, a couple big shots from Detroit had come to recruit the massive homeless man playing havoc on Lansing’s underbelly for some underground cage fighting ring in the city. Or at least that’s what the communication they had with Detroit PD told them about.
They were unsure if the end goal was for the formation of an unsanctioned fight club type organization in Detroit, or if it was just target practice to take him to bigger places for more money. Either way, I had my next destination, and enough to work off of to help close in on where Kaden may have been all that time.
Next stop, Detroit, Michigan. That was, you know, after a quick jaunt back to Greenville to defend my World title and that old chestnut.
Honestly, you two, sometimes I wonder what you’re more interested in with this whole story. The drama, or the wrestling.
Or are you even paying attention anymore?
Hey! Joe! Remi! You listening?
Normally around a pay-per-view and a high-profile match like I had upcoming at that time, I would have spent more time at home training as well, but I was confident that the measures I took against Jason the month or so prior that match was more than enough to solidify the outcome of our match.
Not only that, but it wasn’t the Stormm versus Jason Willard match I wanted. It wasn’t the match the PCW Faithful wanted. Hell, even your mother agrees that match wasn’t going to be what it could have been. It wasn’t even the match that Jason himself wanted, he just didn’t know it yet. But he was going to realize, one way or another, that something was missing from the match, and it wouldn’t be what either of us truly wanted until it was present. Until HE was present.
Nevertheless, we all spent a good week or two in Michigan that Summer, talking to anyone who would listen, and showing Kaden’s photo to anyone willing to take a look. Most of the people working in the businesses I went to weren’t even working there back when he would have possibly been in town.
His name didn’t score any hits with the police either, and while there were a couple people who looked close to the photo we provided them, nothing came back in their database based off a picture taken over a decade earlier.
It wasn’t until I started asking around a small community of Lansing homeless that I got my first hit. I don’t even remember what her name was, but she showed me around some of the places Kaden had lived, and talked about the vigilante shit he was doing to try and get noticed.
She didn’t have a lot more information other than those few locations, a couple stories about talking to him, and him being kind of an odd character. That, and the Homeless Hero, protector of Lansing, folk hero nonsense that I thought people had obviously been blowing out of proportion all those years.
But, it was enough to take back to the police and ask more questions, and after ten or so days, we had another lead.
Turns out, he’d been arrested numerous times for assaulting people who were in the middle of committing felonies. Truly a hero to some. He was just trying to get his face out into the world, hoping someone could tell him who he was. Or at least that’s what the handful of cops who were on the force during his time in the city recalled.
Apparently, Dr. Sorrow had really played a number on him, and had his memory completely wiped from prior to the night they dumped him in Nebraska. But the fact that they could never get any hits on who he was, and never had any evidence that he’d done more than beat up criminals who were in the process of illegal activities, they never held him for long. Too much liability and paperwork, they said. It was careless for sure, but it wasn’t my place to judge, and they had given me what I was looking for.
But the last they heard, a couple big shots from Detroit had come to recruit the massive homeless man playing havoc on Lansing’s underbelly for some underground cage fighting ring in the city. Or at least that’s what the communication they had with Detroit PD told them about.
They were unsure if the end goal was for the formation of an unsanctioned fight club type organization in Detroit, or if it was just target practice to take him to bigger places for more money. Either way, I had my next destination, and enough to work off of to help close in on where Kaden may have been all that time.
Next stop, Detroit, Michigan. That was, you know, after a quick jaunt back to Greenville to defend my World title and that old chestnut.
Honestly, you two, sometimes I wonder what you’re more interested in with this whole story. The drama, or the wrestling.
Or are you even paying attention anymore?
Hey! Joe! Remi! You listening?
