Post by Stormm on May 22, 2015 14:48:52 GMT -5
He sat in excruciating silence, still in the driver’s seat of his seventy Chevelle, eyes fixed on his rear view mirror. It was queer seeing a limousine sitting in the parking lot of the Sedgwick County Detention Facility, and Justin hasn't spotted it upon pulling into his spot, but just before he opened his door, the long, shiny, black vehicle stuck out like a sore thumb. At the risk of arousing suspicion, he chose to stay put, acting as if he were talking on the phone, and sending text message, or answering emails, rather than checking it out first hand.
For all intents and purposes, he could have actually called someone, Lindsay perhaps, to tell her he had made it Wichita without any issues, but his undivided attention was turned to all three mirrors to get a glance at who might be visiting. The Force of Nature was on high alert, for some reason, with very few high profile prisoners at that particular location, who could have been there? More importantly, who could this person be visiting? Last, and certainly not least, could that particular person be visiting the same man Justin had come to see as well?
If only for a split second, a glance between mirrors, or a quick eye down to his phone that he had placed in his lap, he missed someone getting into the limousine, and only caught the rear passenger side door close. Adjusting himself in his seat, he waited for what felt like an eternity for the vehicle that he'd been eyeing to pull away. "No fucking way!" The words seemed to just spill out, unbeknownst to even Justin himself that he was going to say them.
There was only a split second where he was able to catch a glimpse at the license plate, but there was no mistaking what it read. "NEX ADDO..." He stewed for a moment. "Showtime, you son of a bitch!" Throwing his car door open and slamming it back shut after his exit, he could feel the rage boiling his blood. Justin knew that Michael Wryght was going to be pulling out all the stops in their upcoming match, but if the rattles he gave to his children weren't enough outside of the squared circle, he'd now visited Damian Sorrow in prison too.
With somewhat uncomfortable movements, Justin made his way towards the prison's entrance, still inattentive to his surroundings. Had either of guards up front been paying closer attention, it might have even looked like the man approaching the facility had been into the sauce. For a man like Mr. Showtime to have found time in his busy schedule to come all the way to Kansas, there was doubt he had done so to talk to Justin's old foe. But why? There was very little left that could have gotten under the Force of Nature's skin quite like involving his newborns into the mix with the Black Hand.
As he checked into the prison, shook hands with the warden, who always greeted Justin during his visits, and received his escort from the Sherriff, Jeff Easter, to Damian's cell, he struggled to piece his thoughts back together. It would be near impossible to play Damian's game if he allowed himself to get lost in his thoughts. Not only that, but despite how high profile his match with Showtime was going to be, there were still two other men in the mix as well that need not be forgotten.
Per the usual, the uncomfortable black folding chair had been setup for Justin right outside of Damian's cell. The renovations to that wing of the prison had come along nicely over the months as well, with it nearing completion. There were at least a dozen cells outfitted with the state of the art technology that was keeping Damian contained, and plenty of cells had their Plexiglas frosted over as they came to the end of the hall, just outside of the former doctor's cage.
Shaking Jeff's hand, Justin nodded to the Sherriff as the man turned and started to walk away. "Hey Jeff!" Justin called out. As the officer turned back towards the Force of Nature, he shook his head. "Did... No, never mind."
"Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, I'm good. Hopefully this doesn't take too long, so I'll see you shortly." His confirmation didn't seem to be received like he'd hoped by Jeff, but the Sherriff turned about face once more and walked back out of the secured wing.
Taking a deep breath, Justin nudged the cell's control panel with his index and middle fingers, and everything came to life. The frosted Plexiglas became translucent, and the communicator shot to life with faint hums and crackles of white noise. "How long has it been, Justin?" Damian seemed prepared for their meeting, already sitting in his chair just opposite of where Justin had come to rest on a chair of his own. "You have come a long way since we last spoke. I was surprised with how quickly you were able to put together the pieces to my last puzzle."
Shaking his head, as if Justin needed a reason to be reminded of what has happened as of late, but the mention of Damian's previous clues leading him to the faux twins in the twin cities did nothing of the opposite. "You must be pleased with yourself." He shot back, not wanting to give any quarter, let alone waste his time with pleasantries. "I know that trap was meant for me, but getting Francis killed is on you, not me!"
Damian was not at all pleased that one of the Alexander twins had lost their lives in the crossfire, since he had come to regard Robert and Francis as the children he never had in his time working with them. "Had you just gone after Wade and Rusty on your own, none of those poor policemen would have lost their lives, and Francis would still be alive." The prisoner clenched his teeth together while staring daggers through the glass at Justin.
"You couldn't care less about the cops who gave their lives for the safety of others, and while I'm sure somewhere in that black heart of yours is a place that actually hurts for the loss of Francis, you aren't going to pin any of that on me!" There were obvious signs that Damian was just as angry at himself in the matter, Justin could feel how uncomfortable the conversation had made his nemesis already. "This whole game could have been avoided if you weren't so interested in playing games and using real people as the pieces. I've just been trying to win a rigged game so I can finally put an end to your madness."
The conversation had only just started, but Damian allowed for a lull in the exchange as he stood up from his chair and began to pace. He had clasped his right wrist in his left hand behind his back, and struggled a bit every few steps. Either being locked up was not treating him well, or his age was starting to catch up to him; perhaps a little of both. "I must admit Number One, you have played admirably, and I would have never suspected that the two of us would be having this conversation, but I assure you that you will never find Steven or..."
"...RoseAnn?" Justin cut Damian off.
The orange jumpsuit clad man couldn't help but gawk at the Force of Nature with both confusion and excitement all at the same time. "Yes, RoseAnn."
"You know, Doc, there are people in this world that aren't anywhere as close to as incompetent as you assume us to be. While you have a way of hiding the biggest details in the most subtle of ways, I've been dealing with all of this for long enough, that it's almost become second nature to know what you were thinking." As to not be undone by Damian's rigmarole, Justin stood up from his chair, knocking it over in the process. "It wasn't hard to figure out her name once I knew where to dig. A nearly blank file, though, that was a nice touch."
Damian continued to pace, despite the fact that his intimidation techniques had stopped working on a man he'd been trying to break, mentally and physically, for nearly two decades. On the contrary, Justin nearly pressing himself up against the other side of the glass had started to work its way into Damian's psyche. "Hm." His intrigue was overshadowed by his frustrations, and for the first time ever, he seemed to have shut down.
It was Justin, this time, who had the Cheshire like grin plastered on his face, making the man behind the glass even more uncomfortable. "So let's cut through crap and get down to business. I've got two more patients, a best friend, and a protege to find still, and I know you're behind all of them!" Glancing back down at Damian's chair, Justin shot his glare back at the aging man who stopped his pacing, and seemed to succumb to the intimidation, and sat back down. The Force of Nature picked his chair back off of the ground and unfolded it, placing it even closer to the glass than it was before, and sat back down. "Your confessions to me have been that you don't know where Kaden is, and that by finding all five missing patients should lead me to him, I've been find with that, but then my best friend, Brian, disappears. I can only imagine you've got him locked up in the same place as Kaden, which makes my timetable on finding these missing two patients even smaller than it was before."
"Hm."
While Damian's inability to talk was satisfying for Justin, it might prove a little difficult to get what he had come for. "You know what I want, so I'm prepared to give you what you want. What's it going to be? The Icemann Invitation Tournament, and if I'll be able to make it past the semi-final this year or not?" Damian had no reaction, not surprising to Justin at all. "Maybe Michael Wryght and The Black Hand would pique your interests?" The Force of Nature was too involved with his own thoughts, and his actions getting to Damian to notice how uncomfortable the mention of The Black Hand made the old man.
"Hm."
"No. All of that would be too easy to delve into, wouldn't it? None of that interests you, nothing that is obvious ever dose. You already know the kind of precautions that I'm going through to give myself a shot at the best possible outcome in my match against Mr. Showtime." Damian shifted in his chair, and still Justin did not notice. "There's no doubt in your mind that I haven't already considered all the possible angles that man, or the whole of The Black Hand, may exercise to claim victory." Trying to get him to admit a meeting with Michael, or any of the members of the hand had bared no fruit, or at least that he chose to recognize.
"Hm."
Grabbing both sides of the chair, Justin shuffled closer to the cell. He had gotten so close, his knees were nearly touching the glass. "You are all about the unknown. Joka? Non Compos Mentis?" As if to try and throw Stormm off of the trail that he hadn't even found yet, Damian shot his gaze up to meet Justin's, to try and mock interest. "Yeah, it's the other side of the tournament that perplexes everyone, isn't it? Two of the more unstable competitors on the Pure Class Wrestling roster going at it to see who faces Mikey or me in the final. You sure do have a type, though, don't you?" His devious grin didn't go anywhere, but Justin knew how to make himself laugh. "But, given the talent that PCW has been hiring as of late, the unstable have become the majority, so there's nothing really unique about them anymore. That must be kind of a drag?"
"Hm."
It had been fun at first, but it had become apparent that as much as Damian used to feed off of Justin and his other subjects, Justin, himself, feeds off of Damian as well. Not getting any real responses out of the man had started to frustrate the Force of Nature. "Well, Tha Joka has already proved that he's a lot of things, but a winner of high priority matches is not among those." Stormm was always known for being a more humble man when it came to talking about his opponents, or possible opponents, but he was going to pull out all the stops to try and bring Damian back into the conversation. "I've only faced him once, but if he manages to get past Non Compos Mentis, and meets me in the final, I'll just have to beat him in the match he didn't want to have with me the first time we danced; a wrestling match!"
Damian had gripped his left fist into his right hand, and with his elbows propped onto his thighs, leaned in, with his mouth and chin coming to a rest on his hands. "Hm." His response had been muffled.
"Non Compos Mentis, well, he might be one of the men on the roster with whom I've had the most experience in the squared circle with over the years." He paused for a moment to actually thing about. He'd had over a hundred matches in Pure Class Wrestling since his debut nine years prior, it'd become hard to keep track of such things without diving into the record books. In fact, Non Compos Mentis was tied with Lantlas for the number of matches that Stormm had faced off against in one way or another over the years, with nine each. Both trailed Grimm, however, as Justin and Phineas had gone at it eleven times over the years. "He's had an impressive return so far, there's no doubting that, either. We've had our run-ins with one another in the past, but I find it difficult for him to be looking past facing anyone but Showtime in the final."
Once more, Damian found himself with shivers running up and down his spine, and did his best to hide it, still unaware that the Force of Nature hadn't noticed his demeanor. "Hm." The same muffled response as before, and still speechless, as far as Justin was concerned.
Standing up again, this time without the dramatics of knocking his uncomfortable, black folding chair over, Justin placed his hands on the Plexiglas. "He's been more concerned with The Black Hand since he came back than anything. A man who has surpassed his longest North American title reign, and wants to surpass his total reigning time in a single run, doesn't seem to be on his radar at all." Damian hadn't made eye contact with Justin since the man on the other side of the glass had stood up, and could barely contain the restlessness he was beginning to feel. "I'd love nothing more than to carry that title, MY title, into the final of the Icemann Invitational against him, and take a victory in the rubber match that's been years in the making."
He may not have remember the exact number of matches he and Non Compos Mentis had been in against each other, but he did remember that each of them held a victory in singles competition over the other, as well as one draw. There wouldn't be a much better stage than the final of the Icemann Invitational Tournament for them to have a deciding match against each other with. However, it still didn't seem as if Damian was impressed with everything that Stormm had been saying to him.
"Given the parameters of our agreement, this would be the time you give me what I came here for, since you got what you wanted!" Justin's own frustrations were starting to rise to the surface as well.
"Not yet." The prisoner finally spoke again, but under his breath.
"What was that?" Justin questioned sternly.
"You assume that I care enough of what you speak to return the favor, Number One. You could not be farther from the truth!" Damian firmly fixed his stare back through Justin, and stood from his seat, pressing himself against the glass, and getting as face to face with the Force of Nature that he could. "You assume that I want to continue helping you with a task I never expected you to get this far doing!"
As if the meeting between those two, on that day, were a pot of tea on the stove, Damian’s comment was the moment when the kettle started to whistle. "This is how this works! When I came to you in this place almost a year ago, you forced these so-called rules on to me, and I've fulfilled my end of the bargain, now it's your turn!"
"My my my, Number One. Must I spell this out for you?" He questioned Justin, still using the pet name that he couldn't tolerate. "I made this game, and chose to play along with you, but if I must be so inclined to tell you; I am done, and so are you!"
His gaze being fixated on the former doctor had allowed for someone to slip in behind him unnoticed. In a prison, that would be hard to do, if all of the guards in Damian's wing that day hadn't been paid off beforehand. The same chair that had been used for months in his visits to the prison had been smashed against the back of Justin's head, while at the same time, causing his face to crash against the glass cell, and the Force of Nature went limp.
His eyes were heavy when he came to, and his head was in a heavy fog. He tried half a dozen times to open his eyes before he was able to, only to find himself propped up against a wall, sitting in an uncomfortable folding chair, inside of Damian Sorrow's prison cell. The white noise from the communicator gave off that gentle hum, and the class had been frosted back over.
Despite the blunt force to the head, Justin's mind was still sound, and seems he had avoided a concussion, just days before, potentially, two of the biggest wrestling matches of his career. It still took him several minutes to come down out of the clouds the shot to the head put him in, and he called out. "Hello?"
There was no response for some time, but when Justin finally got one, it was not from someone he'd hoped for. "I have helped you long enough, Number One, but now I am through!" The opaque glass faded back to clear, and it was not just one man standing outside of the cell, but seven. Four of Sedgwick County's finest in the back, with Damian up front and center. The two men on either side caused Justin's jaw to hit the floor. "I am done trying to make you Michaels see things the way they are meant to be seen! All of you have given me nothing but grief, and for nothing!" To Damian's left was one of the last two missing Southwind patients, Steven Lee. "I know plenty of subjects who would die for the opportunities you have earned, for the opportunities you have been given, and for the opportunities that I have tried to give you; it is over now!"
The guards walked out of view from inside of the cell towards the prison entrance, followed closely behind by Steven. Damian smiled at Justin, who had lost his. "You can try to come after me again, my dear boy, but I would highly suggest against doing anything ill-advised. Fool me once, and all of that." The good doctor turned and walked out of view as well, and the only man that remained was the man that had been standing to Damian's left, and was still holding the chair that was responsible for the carmine stain on Justin's shirt...
"Brian?!"
For all intents and purposes, he could have actually called someone, Lindsay perhaps, to tell her he had made it Wichita without any issues, but his undivided attention was turned to all three mirrors to get a glance at who might be visiting. The Force of Nature was on high alert, for some reason, with very few high profile prisoners at that particular location, who could have been there? More importantly, who could this person be visiting? Last, and certainly not least, could that particular person be visiting the same man Justin had come to see as well?
If only for a split second, a glance between mirrors, or a quick eye down to his phone that he had placed in his lap, he missed someone getting into the limousine, and only caught the rear passenger side door close. Adjusting himself in his seat, he waited for what felt like an eternity for the vehicle that he'd been eyeing to pull away. "No fucking way!" The words seemed to just spill out, unbeknownst to even Justin himself that he was going to say them.
There was only a split second where he was able to catch a glimpse at the license plate, but there was no mistaking what it read. "NEX ADDO..." He stewed for a moment. "Showtime, you son of a bitch!" Throwing his car door open and slamming it back shut after his exit, he could feel the rage boiling his blood. Justin knew that Michael Wryght was going to be pulling out all the stops in their upcoming match, but if the rattles he gave to his children weren't enough outside of the squared circle, he'd now visited Damian Sorrow in prison too.
With somewhat uncomfortable movements, Justin made his way towards the prison's entrance, still inattentive to his surroundings. Had either of guards up front been paying closer attention, it might have even looked like the man approaching the facility had been into the sauce. For a man like Mr. Showtime to have found time in his busy schedule to come all the way to Kansas, there was doubt he had done so to talk to Justin's old foe. But why? There was very little left that could have gotten under the Force of Nature's skin quite like involving his newborns into the mix with the Black Hand.
As he checked into the prison, shook hands with the warden, who always greeted Justin during his visits, and received his escort from the Sherriff, Jeff Easter, to Damian's cell, he struggled to piece his thoughts back together. It would be near impossible to play Damian's game if he allowed himself to get lost in his thoughts. Not only that, but despite how high profile his match with Showtime was going to be, there were still two other men in the mix as well that need not be forgotten.
Per the usual, the uncomfortable black folding chair had been setup for Justin right outside of Damian's cell. The renovations to that wing of the prison had come along nicely over the months as well, with it nearing completion. There were at least a dozen cells outfitted with the state of the art technology that was keeping Damian contained, and plenty of cells had their Plexiglas frosted over as they came to the end of the hall, just outside of the former doctor's cage.
Shaking Jeff's hand, Justin nodded to the Sherriff as the man turned and started to walk away. "Hey Jeff!" Justin called out. As the officer turned back towards the Force of Nature, he shook his head. "Did... No, never mind."
"Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, I'm good. Hopefully this doesn't take too long, so I'll see you shortly." His confirmation didn't seem to be received like he'd hoped by Jeff, but the Sherriff turned about face once more and walked back out of the secured wing.
Taking a deep breath, Justin nudged the cell's control panel with his index and middle fingers, and everything came to life. The frosted Plexiglas became translucent, and the communicator shot to life with faint hums and crackles of white noise. "How long has it been, Justin?" Damian seemed prepared for their meeting, already sitting in his chair just opposite of where Justin had come to rest on a chair of his own. "You have come a long way since we last spoke. I was surprised with how quickly you were able to put together the pieces to my last puzzle."
Shaking his head, as if Justin needed a reason to be reminded of what has happened as of late, but the mention of Damian's previous clues leading him to the faux twins in the twin cities did nothing of the opposite. "You must be pleased with yourself." He shot back, not wanting to give any quarter, let alone waste his time with pleasantries. "I know that trap was meant for me, but getting Francis killed is on you, not me!"
Damian was not at all pleased that one of the Alexander twins had lost their lives in the crossfire, since he had come to regard Robert and Francis as the children he never had in his time working with them. "Had you just gone after Wade and Rusty on your own, none of those poor policemen would have lost their lives, and Francis would still be alive." The prisoner clenched his teeth together while staring daggers through the glass at Justin.
"You couldn't care less about the cops who gave their lives for the safety of others, and while I'm sure somewhere in that black heart of yours is a place that actually hurts for the loss of Francis, you aren't going to pin any of that on me!" There were obvious signs that Damian was just as angry at himself in the matter, Justin could feel how uncomfortable the conversation had made his nemesis already. "This whole game could have been avoided if you weren't so interested in playing games and using real people as the pieces. I've just been trying to win a rigged game so I can finally put an end to your madness."
The conversation had only just started, but Damian allowed for a lull in the exchange as he stood up from his chair and began to pace. He had clasped his right wrist in his left hand behind his back, and struggled a bit every few steps. Either being locked up was not treating him well, or his age was starting to catch up to him; perhaps a little of both. "I must admit Number One, you have played admirably, and I would have never suspected that the two of us would be having this conversation, but I assure you that you will never find Steven or..."
"...RoseAnn?" Justin cut Damian off.
The orange jumpsuit clad man couldn't help but gawk at the Force of Nature with both confusion and excitement all at the same time. "Yes, RoseAnn."
"You know, Doc, there are people in this world that aren't anywhere as close to as incompetent as you assume us to be. While you have a way of hiding the biggest details in the most subtle of ways, I've been dealing with all of this for long enough, that it's almost become second nature to know what you were thinking." As to not be undone by Damian's rigmarole, Justin stood up from his chair, knocking it over in the process. "It wasn't hard to figure out her name once I knew where to dig. A nearly blank file, though, that was a nice touch."
Damian continued to pace, despite the fact that his intimidation techniques had stopped working on a man he'd been trying to break, mentally and physically, for nearly two decades. On the contrary, Justin nearly pressing himself up against the other side of the glass had started to work its way into Damian's psyche. "Hm." His intrigue was overshadowed by his frustrations, and for the first time ever, he seemed to have shut down.
It was Justin, this time, who had the Cheshire like grin plastered on his face, making the man behind the glass even more uncomfortable. "So let's cut through crap and get down to business. I've got two more patients, a best friend, and a protege to find still, and I know you're behind all of them!" Glancing back down at Damian's chair, Justin shot his glare back at the aging man who stopped his pacing, and seemed to succumb to the intimidation, and sat back down. The Force of Nature picked his chair back off of the ground and unfolded it, placing it even closer to the glass than it was before, and sat back down. "Your confessions to me have been that you don't know where Kaden is, and that by finding all five missing patients should lead me to him, I've been find with that, but then my best friend, Brian, disappears. I can only imagine you've got him locked up in the same place as Kaden, which makes my timetable on finding these missing two patients even smaller than it was before."
"Hm."
While Damian's inability to talk was satisfying for Justin, it might prove a little difficult to get what he had come for. "You know what I want, so I'm prepared to give you what you want. What's it going to be? The Icemann Invitation Tournament, and if I'll be able to make it past the semi-final this year or not?" Damian had no reaction, not surprising to Justin at all. "Maybe Michael Wryght and The Black Hand would pique your interests?" The Force of Nature was too involved with his own thoughts, and his actions getting to Damian to notice how uncomfortable the mention of The Black Hand made the old man.
"Hm."
"No. All of that would be too easy to delve into, wouldn't it? None of that interests you, nothing that is obvious ever dose. You already know the kind of precautions that I'm going through to give myself a shot at the best possible outcome in my match against Mr. Showtime." Damian shifted in his chair, and still Justin did not notice. "There's no doubt in your mind that I haven't already considered all the possible angles that man, or the whole of The Black Hand, may exercise to claim victory." Trying to get him to admit a meeting with Michael, or any of the members of the hand had bared no fruit, or at least that he chose to recognize.
"Hm."
Grabbing both sides of the chair, Justin shuffled closer to the cell. He had gotten so close, his knees were nearly touching the glass. "You are all about the unknown. Joka? Non Compos Mentis?" As if to try and throw Stormm off of the trail that he hadn't even found yet, Damian shot his gaze up to meet Justin's, to try and mock interest. "Yeah, it's the other side of the tournament that perplexes everyone, isn't it? Two of the more unstable competitors on the Pure Class Wrestling roster going at it to see who faces Mikey or me in the final. You sure do have a type, though, don't you?" His devious grin didn't go anywhere, but Justin knew how to make himself laugh. "But, given the talent that PCW has been hiring as of late, the unstable have become the majority, so there's nothing really unique about them anymore. That must be kind of a drag?"
"Hm."
It had been fun at first, but it had become apparent that as much as Damian used to feed off of Justin and his other subjects, Justin, himself, feeds off of Damian as well. Not getting any real responses out of the man had started to frustrate the Force of Nature. "Well, Tha Joka has already proved that he's a lot of things, but a winner of high priority matches is not among those." Stormm was always known for being a more humble man when it came to talking about his opponents, or possible opponents, but he was going to pull out all the stops to try and bring Damian back into the conversation. "I've only faced him once, but if he manages to get past Non Compos Mentis, and meets me in the final, I'll just have to beat him in the match he didn't want to have with me the first time we danced; a wrestling match!"
Damian had gripped his left fist into his right hand, and with his elbows propped onto his thighs, leaned in, with his mouth and chin coming to a rest on his hands. "Hm." His response had been muffled.
"Non Compos Mentis, well, he might be one of the men on the roster with whom I've had the most experience in the squared circle with over the years." He paused for a moment to actually thing about. He'd had over a hundred matches in Pure Class Wrestling since his debut nine years prior, it'd become hard to keep track of such things without diving into the record books. In fact, Non Compos Mentis was tied with Lantlas for the number of matches that Stormm had faced off against in one way or another over the years, with nine each. Both trailed Grimm, however, as Justin and Phineas had gone at it eleven times over the years. "He's had an impressive return so far, there's no doubting that, either. We've had our run-ins with one another in the past, but I find it difficult for him to be looking past facing anyone but Showtime in the final."
Once more, Damian found himself with shivers running up and down his spine, and did his best to hide it, still unaware that the Force of Nature hadn't noticed his demeanor. "Hm." The same muffled response as before, and still speechless, as far as Justin was concerned.
Standing up again, this time without the dramatics of knocking his uncomfortable, black folding chair over, Justin placed his hands on the Plexiglas. "He's been more concerned with The Black Hand since he came back than anything. A man who has surpassed his longest North American title reign, and wants to surpass his total reigning time in a single run, doesn't seem to be on his radar at all." Damian hadn't made eye contact with Justin since the man on the other side of the glass had stood up, and could barely contain the restlessness he was beginning to feel. "I'd love nothing more than to carry that title, MY title, into the final of the Icemann Invitational against him, and take a victory in the rubber match that's been years in the making."
He may not have remember the exact number of matches he and Non Compos Mentis had been in against each other, but he did remember that each of them held a victory in singles competition over the other, as well as one draw. There wouldn't be a much better stage than the final of the Icemann Invitational Tournament for them to have a deciding match against each other with. However, it still didn't seem as if Damian was impressed with everything that Stormm had been saying to him.
"Given the parameters of our agreement, this would be the time you give me what I came here for, since you got what you wanted!" Justin's own frustrations were starting to rise to the surface as well.
"Not yet." The prisoner finally spoke again, but under his breath.
"What was that?" Justin questioned sternly.
"You assume that I care enough of what you speak to return the favor, Number One. You could not be farther from the truth!" Damian firmly fixed his stare back through Justin, and stood from his seat, pressing himself against the glass, and getting as face to face with the Force of Nature that he could. "You assume that I want to continue helping you with a task I never expected you to get this far doing!"
As if the meeting between those two, on that day, were a pot of tea on the stove, Damian’s comment was the moment when the kettle started to whistle. "This is how this works! When I came to you in this place almost a year ago, you forced these so-called rules on to me, and I've fulfilled my end of the bargain, now it's your turn!"
"My my my, Number One. Must I spell this out for you?" He questioned Justin, still using the pet name that he couldn't tolerate. "I made this game, and chose to play along with you, but if I must be so inclined to tell you; I am done, and so are you!"
His gaze being fixated on the former doctor had allowed for someone to slip in behind him unnoticed. In a prison, that would be hard to do, if all of the guards in Damian's wing that day hadn't been paid off beforehand. The same chair that had been used for months in his visits to the prison had been smashed against the back of Justin's head, while at the same time, causing his face to crash against the glass cell, and the Force of Nature went limp.
His eyes were heavy when he came to, and his head was in a heavy fog. He tried half a dozen times to open his eyes before he was able to, only to find himself propped up against a wall, sitting in an uncomfortable folding chair, inside of Damian Sorrow's prison cell. The white noise from the communicator gave off that gentle hum, and the class had been frosted back over.
Despite the blunt force to the head, Justin's mind was still sound, and seems he had avoided a concussion, just days before, potentially, two of the biggest wrestling matches of his career. It still took him several minutes to come down out of the clouds the shot to the head put him in, and he called out. "Hello?"
There was no response for some time, but when Justin finally got one, it was not from someone he'd hoped for. "I have helped you long enough, Number One, but now I am through!" The opaque glass faded back to clear, and it was not just one man standing outside of the cell, but seven. Four of Sedgwick County's finest in the back, with Damian up front and center. The two men on either side caused Justin's jaw to hit the floor. "I am done trying to make you Michaels see things the way they are meant to be seen! All of you have given me nothing but grief, and for nothing!" To Damian's left was one of the last two missing Southwind patients, Steven Lee. "I know plenty of subjects who would die for the opportunities you have earned, for the opportunities you have been given, and for the opportunities that I have tried to give you; it is over now!"
The guards walked out of view from inside of the cell towards the prison entrance, followed closely behind by Steven. Damian smiled at Justin, who had lost his. "You can try to come after me again, my dear boy, but I would highly suggest against doing anything ill-advised. Fool me once, and all of that." The good doctor turned and walked out of view as well, and the only man that remained was the man that had been standing to Damian's left, and was still holding the chair that was responsible for the carmine stain on Justin's shirt...
"Brian?!"