Alone.

January 02, 2022

Hartford, Connecticut

ALONE.

Sabin was inside of the training center of the family home; The Docherty residence in Hartford. The home had undoubtedly belonged to his mother, Tara Docherty, more famously known by the stage name of Tara Fenix. Her presence was not something that he had concerned himself with; the fact that he was still residing inside the house was a mystery in itself when the family had a recent disagreement. It was a long story. The fact of the matter was that he considered it unlikely that she would stop by the house on this particular day… And so he was connecting with various combinations against the punching bag with a certain ferocity present with every strike.

His face had contorted as he sneered and snarled with each strike growing more and more stronger, and more and more fiercer. He was breathing heavily, throwing everything with more anger but there was no arguing that the precision was there; he hit every mark exactly where he intended, even if it wasn’t as light as he had meant to which made it difficult for him to continue with the combinations as he would have to wait for the bag to sway back in his direction.

Alone… Sabin thought to himself; his face was still cringed when he got lost in his own mind.

Ever since I decided to follow in her footsteps– in my father’s footsteps– I was under a shadow… I was under the looming shadow of my own mother, and I was fine with that! After everything that that bastard did to her, after everything that he put our family through, I was more than happy to play the puppet and handle everything that she asked of me…and I did that! I did everything I was asked!

Sabin circled around the bag and threw a heavy haymaker against it as the chains over it began rattling in such a way that it seemed like the punching bag might come loose.

I broke him! I was willing to end him, and then what? You forgave him? You insisted that he could change, but because of you…because who you are to me…I accept your decision. But it breaks me to have to look at that man– that monster– another day! It breaks me for you to dare ask me to call him father all because YOU FORGAVE HIM!

When that thought crossed his mind, he gritted his teeth and threw a punch as hard as he could against the punching bag which caused it to swing violently backward before swaying forward again… The room was silent for the exception of his breathing; slow, but heavy; there was another sound that caught Sabin’s ear. He took a step forward and as the punching bag spun in a slow circle he could confirm with his sight what he had heard: the bag had been punctured by one of his punches and he couldn’t help but snicker while raising his hand to plug the hole with his finger.

He stood there for a moment longer then shook his head as he took a step away and walked toward the supply closet; inside, he took a roll of duct tape and ripped a piece off to place it over the hole; he then took a towel from the rack and draped it over his shoulders before walking out of the training room and into the bathroom where he ran the faucet with cold water in an attempt to cool himself off, but he kept glancing at the mirror to get a look at himself… There were images flashing through his mind when he looked at himself in the mirror: he focused on his eyes. The bright blue eyes that he had inherited from his mother, and through those eyes, he could see her staring back at him. The same cold eyes that she could use to penetrate the poor soul of anyone who stood in the ring with her. The eyes that could cause a chill to run through the spine of anyone. There was the strange sensation that he knew he wanted to be able to give that same look; he wanted to have those same cold eyes, and that same stare that could make someone flee. He could recall the recent war that he had with his stepfather that had them both covered from head to toe in their blood. He could remember the look on his face when he wore the face pain; he could remember who he felt like…what he felt like. He didn’t feel like the young man that people saw; he felt like the monster that he is, and he couldn’t keep himself from sporting a smirk at that mere thought.

The smirk was another thing, much like the eyes, that came as a family trait; Tara was renowned for that smirk that would tell everyone that she was better…and she knew it. Sabin had that same smirk. He licked his lips and put his hands under the water then ran his hands through his hair to dampen it and pull it back; he pulled carefully at the ends and after several strokes, held the ends of his hair. The ends were dyed a blue that matched the hair his mother was famous for. He wanted to be as strong as she is; he wanted to be recognized as great as she is; he wanted to pay his respects toward her, but at the same time…wanted to carve his own path. That was why he found himself at Pro Wrestling Excellence. He was not here to represent her; he was here for himself.

He reached into the drawer where he had a stockpile of his own make-up, and began to carefully apply it to himself; he was under the transformation in his mentality to the persona that he took with him inside of the ring. Sabin was disappearing with every stroke that was added…and Wraith was emerging. This was a new territory for him, though; he was used to having Mother speak for him; he was used to having Atara speak for him; he was used to having Jennie speak for him, but he had never spoken for himself. Wraith cracked his neck, and bit down on his bottom lip whilst lingering for a couple more seconds… He let out a heavy sigh and turned toward the door, returning back to the training center. He picked up his phone and raised it in a way so that he was recording himself.

Live on social media, being sent directly to the Pro Wrestling Excellence social media. His lips were slightly parted in more of a snarl; he tilted his head back and forth a few times before snickering…he remained silent for a few extra seconds while contemplating what he should say. This was his first time truly speaking for himself. This was his first time being alone.

“Yak'éi yagiyee.” Were the words that escaped from his mouth spoken in the Tlingit language.

Wraith ran his tongue across his lips, and then they curled into a Docherty smirk. “There are some of you who are unfamiliar with who I am, and so it seems only proper that first things first…” He said while raising a hand and giving a gentle wave to the camera, “They call me ‘Wraith’,” he tilted his head to one side, and then back the other way, “and I am here for one reason…” He gently tapped his finger against the camera on his phone, “I am here to take the Excellence Championship.” Wraith stated rather boldly.

He couldn’t keep himself still. There was an excitement that he felt while counting the days down for the invitational; he cracked his neck while pacing inside of the room but his eyes had turned away from the camera.

“Please,” Wraith said with a slight chuckle under his breath, “Excuse me for getting a little ahead of myself… I’m used to having someone behind me, someone that has my back, someone that keeps me focused, and for the first time…I don’t have that. For the first time: Tláa, Tláak’w, and even the Goddess are not standing behind me.”

He took a momentary pause while contemplating that fact; the fact that for the first time in what has been a short career thus far, he was standing alone, but there was a brightness to his eyes that radiated confidence.

“I stand on my own…and so I cannot help but look forward; I cannot help but get a little ahead of myself. I know who I am going into the ring with: Allen Chaney, and I know that I need to go through him to get to what I have decided is my next step! When I first came into this industry it was for the sole purpose of revenge; it was for the sole purpose of hurting one person who hurt us, but that battle is over and that battle has been won! So now… What am I to do? Fade? Or find a new battle?” Wraith had cocked his head to the side while giving a sickening smile that bared his teeth as if a predator were baring its fangs, “And so the opportunity presented itself…” Wraith snickered.

“I have heard Mother speaking of the PWE since before you opened your doors for the first time. She was excited for the opening of PWE, and would talk to Sabin everyday about how this was going to be the place to be! How PWE is going to be the future of the industry, and I hear about it; I hear about how this is going to be the place to be, and so I cannot help but think… Why not me? Why not Wraith?” He asked the question while tapping his finger against his chin a few times.

“Because of what happened, though, I could not drag Mother to come here to speak for me; I could not ask her to do this for me… Because she chose her path, and I must choose mine. So I have something to prove… I have something to prove to her! I have something to prove to PWE! I have something to prove to anybody who is standing across the ring from me–” Wraith smirked and gave another wave to the camera, “Hello again, Allen…” He let the name of his opponent trail off his tongue, “But I have something to prove to myself. I have to prove that I can get out from the shadow that has been over me… Do you see my life?” Wraith hesitated momentarily as if to truly wait for an answer, “I was born in this business. Raised by this business. All of this–” he said with a wave of his hand, “--was normal to me. But because of who Mother was, because of who Mother is, there were always higher expectations! There were always the prying eyes that knew I had to be better, and if there was so much as one mistake, I would be ridiculed for it! That is why I must be stronger; fight harder; fight longer; prove that it is not a name that makes me: it is me.”

Wraith took a seat on the bench and tilted his head back and forth a few times to crack his neck, but his eyes were locked on the camera; he bit down on his bottom lip before resuming.

“I have been trained from when I was just a boy… Before I could even jump on the apron, I was inside of the ring and learning how to inflict damage on the people who share the ring with me! Whether they are larger than me, smaller than me, more vicious than me, more calculated than me, more experienced than me; it did not matter what anybody was to me! It did not matter what anyone believed themselves to be capable of doing: I have fought some of the best that this industry has had… I have fought and beaten people with over twenty years of experience who looked at me and thought that I had no chance because I was just a–” he raises his free hand to do the finger quote gesture, “--kid.” End finger quote.

“That is what you are looking at when you step into the ring with me, Allen. You are not looking at the history that flows through my veins, you are not looking at everything that my family has been able to accomplish and revolutionize within our sport… You are looking at the kid that you do not believe belongs in the same ring as you. You are looking at the kid that you think is far too inexperienced to be able to defeat you, but that is where you are making your greatest mistake: you are not dealing with an ordinary kid.” Every time he spoke that word, “kid”, he cringed, but it was something that he had grown used to in his year in the industry; yet he has made a lot of people pay for that mistake.

“You are stepping into the ring with The Heir. You are not stepping into the ring with someone who is on the verge of learning his sixth move…you are stepping into the ring with someone who had an arsenal before I even knew how to drive. You are stepping into the ring with someone who is going to get a hold locked in on you and I am not going to let go until you tap, or something breaks, and–” he raised a finger to protest, “--I will not let go until the referee has called for the bell. This profession that we are in, this is something that did not come to you until you got a little angry because you failed at every other aspect in your life! If you wish for some redemption, how about you go ahead and tell me a joke?” He said in a snapping tone.

“Hmm?” Wraith continued as if he had wanted to hear a joke, any joke that could make him laugh.

“That is your redemption! Because this–” Wraith said while turning around the room and showing off all of the equipment inside of the home training center. It was even completed with a ring built into the floor. He focused the camera on the ring for several seconds before pressing the button to flip the camera back to focus on himself, “--this is what I do. There was never any second option for me! There was no back-up plan! There was that ring… That ring is a church. That ring is holy. That ring is everything that I am! You–” Wraith said while pointing at the camera, and letting out a light chuckle, “--do this because you failed as a comedian. Because you failed as an actor. Because you failed.” Wraith sneered.

“And so you, like many others, crawl into a place that you should not have been because you got a little edgy, and a little angry with the world, you thought that you were going to come into this profession and take it by storm but now look at where you are standing: someone who could not even earn a chance at the Excellence Championship despite taking a victory over the man who is! Do you want to know why that is, Allen? Do you want to know why you were overlooked by management, and now you are being forced to compete against people like me; against people like Chris Page; against people like Jensen Kidd, Delia Black, Nathaniel Dixon, and Ernie Spencer: because PWE management views the rest of us are more of an asset than you are! Does that hurt for you to know? Does that hurt for you to accept?” Wraith said with a shrug of his shoulder, and he couldn’t erase the smug look off his face.

“You are so unworthy to fight for the Excellence Championship that management sought out competition from the rest of the industry to come in and fight for that belt before they would offer you a shot at it. Perhaps–” Wraith said before pausing to lick his lips, “--I was wrong about you being a failed comedian. Perhaps you are much better at being a funny man than I thought! Because you are the biggest joke of this company, and I truly do feel that they are handing this to me on a silver platter because they know just who you are, and they know what you are capable of…and they know…who Mother is, they know what she is capable of doing, and they know that she trained me, and there is no mistaking that they know…who else trained me…” He couldn’t help but let out a sigh as his eye twitched at the mere thought of the other person, “Angel Blake. A sadist; a masochist; a sociopath, possibly even…psychopath…trained me, and trained me to not show mercy. Trained me to break everyone in the pathway that would look to stop me from reaching my goal.” He had to take a moment to draw in a deep breath; he still felt an anger when he thought of the man that trained him and turned him into the monster he became because of the history that they had together; the damage that he had done to the family, and even worse: now he was allowed back in.

“My goal… is to become the PWE Excellence Champion. It does not matter who I have to go through to get there…you are just the first peg in what will be my rise. You are just the first person that will fall until I have reached the top of this promotion! And do you want to know something? Something important?” Wraith began looking back and forth, “I already like the environment. I already like it here. I did not sign up with any second guessing on my mind; I did not sign up with any thought that I may not be able to walk out as the overall winner and number one contender for the belt! And I most certainly did not sign up with the intent of not taking that belt with me…” Wraith smiled, a sinister smile, “I think I like it here. I think I am going to say. I think I am going to wear that belt for a good long time.” Wraith’s smug look erased a bit as the thought intruded his mind again; the thought of doing it alone, and the thought of being alone.

“I will see you Victory, Allen. You will be the first of many to fall. Spread the word.” Wraith said, and he couldn’t resist the urge to take a page out of his mother’s book: he blew a kiss to the camera before tapping a button on the screen to end the video transmission.

He sat his phone down on the bench while rubbing his palms together; the excitement was still inside of him, and he felt himself shaking from the mere thought that he was doing this in a way that he had not truly done before. There was the short stunt that he had at another nameless promotion, but he did not get the same excitement that he felt when he considered stepping into this event. The last place had sprung it on him, and this one called to him.

The look on his eyes had transitioned; he was turning from the monster back into the young man that was excited to be in the company, but the realization was still there for him: he was going to do this alone. He could not keep himself from talking aloud, “This is going to be crazy… Tláa is going to be a bit upset, but no– no–” He said with a slight stutter, “She doesn’t need to be there.” He said in such a way as to convince himself not to invite Tara to attend his first match at PWE.

“She made her own choice without consulting you, and it’s only fair that you finally do your own thing without consulting her… What if she does to you what she did to Aunt Jennie? What if she views you as a failure? A laughing stock of the family? I beat…Angel…but other than that, what have I done?” Sabin sniffled and nodded his head while trying to raise his own self-confidence. He succeeded in regaining his confidence.

“You need to do this alone, because…” Sabin shrugged to himself, “Well, you are alone.”

Just as those words escaped his mouth the lights in the house began to flicker before finally shutting off; Sabin kind of stared awry while being shrouded in absolute darkness. The training center that he was in was in the center of the house with there being no way for natural light to reach, so it was just black for him.

“Are you…alone?” He could hear the voice of his aunt echo through the room as if they had been in a cavern. The light flickered back on for a moment as he turned to face her, and could see that she had looked different from the last time that she had been seen at FIGHT! NYC’s Countdown. She was sitting criss-cross on the bench with her elbows leaning against her knees, and she leaned heavily on her elbows as her eyes which had a purple hue to them were locked on her nephew.

The two just stared at each other for several seconds; it seemed as if Jinxie as she became known after what had occurred were trying to find out where Sabin’s loyalties would lie. Whether he would tell Tara where he had spotted her, or whether he could be counted as an ally. The love that she had for him was unquestionable. She had assisted Tara in raising him, and the two were closer in age. She needed an ally. The light went back out.

“Are you…?” Her voice echoed a second time.

END.