Mercy.

The vessel and the possessor… Sabin and Wraith sat in the void, a place of vast emptiness; the only things that appeared within the confines of the void were what they needed, and at this time, Sabin and Wraith sat across from each other with a chessboard between them. Sabin studied the board for a long time, studying every piece, and searching for a way to get himself out of the hole that he was in. Key pieces were missing: knights, bishops, and even a number of pawns that were deemed insignificant.

Wraith sits with their legs over their armrest, and their elbows propped up with their head resting upon one of their hands. They whistle nonchalantly, staring off to the distance, but their gaze slowly comes back around to the chessboard to see Sabin practically frozen in place while contemplating the next move.

“Will you hurry up?!” Wraith snarls.

Wraith straightens in their seat, and hunches forward to bring their fists down on the table; the impact causes Sabin to jump, and Sabin raises his eyes to look across at Wraith who just scowls back.

“I’m thinking…” Sabin mutters, and rubs his fingers against his chin.

“Thinking, thinking! Always thinking…” Wraith snarls, and their voice trails off; visibly contemplating their own dilemma. The red irises scour the chessboard, and scrunches their face several times, gritting their teeth.

Their eyes dart off to the side, unable to fixate on Sabin…unable to fixate on the game taking place in front of them. There was a thought tormenting the monster within the confines of Sabin’s mind. The strength of this monster was that it would go the lengths that Sabin could not go. It would do what Sabin could not fathom to bring himself to do. It would break everyone that Sabin could not bring himself to break; it would see the danger in front of them and charge into the fray of things. It would carry everything, and bloody its own hands so Sabin could feel better about it. It was never Sabin; it was the monster.

Wraith’s lips curl into a grin, twitching slightly as it fights off their own smile, and a nervous chuckle escapes from them. Several images flash through their mind; all of the pain that they inflicted on every single one of their opponents… all of the pain that they had to endure; the times that the audience, the world, had counted the monster out, only for the monster to get back to their feet. They could feel the warmth of their blood trickling down their face, and from that sensation, they no longer tried to fight off their smile. However, their facial features seem to soften when the next image comes through their mind…

2022 had started off as a fantastic year for Sabin, the nineteen-year-old second generation superstar. He had gone into Metamorphosis, the pay-per-view for the Imperial Wrestling Federation to fight a man that he had personally counted amongst his friends, Ulf Hednir, the reigning World Champion, and he had done something that no one had ever made the Norseman do: tap out! By forcing him to tap out, Sabin had accomplished something that few people his age had been able to accomplish, and accomplished something that some people nearing the end of their careers have found themselves unable to do…be able to call themselves a World Champion at any company.

There is a fire in the heart of the young man; a certain ferocity that he brought to the ring each and every single time… A ferocity that had him become a self-proclaimed monster. A ruthlessness he had with zero concern over what he would have to do to anyone standing across from him in order to secure the victory for himself.

Nineteen-years-old, and Sabin had already conquered one company, and he had his eyes set on the next… Despite the hiccups that Sabin had had in Pro Wrestling Excellence, his goal had not changed: he wanted to conquer. He wanted to stand atop of Pro Wrestling Excellence as the Victory Champion, as the Impulse Champion, and yes, even as the Excellence Champion!

Life had been hectic for Sabin, though. 2022, for as kind as it has been to Sabin, had also taken a lot; the world had witnessed his failures… The world witnessed his failure at the IWF’s Night of the Immortals. Again, when he had become the runner-up in their Heir to the Throne tournament. Again, when he failed to capture the PWE Impulse Championship from Joe Montuori, and again when he failed to defeat Jason Long, in a match that could have very well put him back in line for a second opportunity at the Impulse Championship that has since been acquired by Jason Long. Sabin had gone from making a name for himself with his second match at PWE in the Excellence Invitational, and even on The Upside Down edition of PWE where he managed a huge victory over Savannah Sunshine, Paul Montuori, Maladi, Beryl Weir, and Jason Long; however, ever since then, it has been disappointment, after disappointment, after disappointment. As much as it has taken, it still gave… Sabin would also become a Tag Team Champion alongside his stepfather, Angel Blake, and just in time for the birth of his and Ashley Miller’s daughter, Mikaela Jade Spencer.

Sabin paces back and forth slowly inside of the sunroom in the Blake-Docherty estate… It was early enough that there was that eerie calm. It seemed as if he were the only one awake at this hour. A layer of frost stretched across the glass. A gentle snowfall. Mikaela is bundled up in a blanket, and cradled in Sabin’s arms, and Sabin’s gaze shifts back and forth from the calm that accompanies the gentle snowfall, and back to the two-week-old infant.

Sabin felt a slight movement from the blanket; Mikaela groans, and then opens her eyes. She was gifted with a difference than the usual Docherty trait; as opposed to Tara, Sabin’s mother, being known for the bright blue eyes, and Sabin following the trait, Mikaela was blessed with green eyes. The way the morning glow danced between the trees, and through the glass highlighted the hue; her eyes sparkled with the sunlight, and she couldn’t stop herself from squinting on account of the light.

With a gentle tone, Sabin greets the newborn, “Good morning.”

She answers with her tiny coos, the only way that she could answer at this stage. If only this moment could last forever, but Mikaela’s own gaze soon shifted away from her father to the side… Sabin also turns his attention to where she is staring, and the red irises appear to glow from the shadows; a bit paler than the usual bright red.

“Good mooorning!” Jennie’s voice is heard calling from the next room, and she rushes into the sunroom; as she walks into the doorframe, the red eyes dissipate.

We return to the void. Wraith taps their blackened nail against the table, as their other hand taps their chin several times; they snort as their nostrils flare momentarily, and they cock their head to the side… their patience begins to wear thin, and the tapping comes more rapidly. They finally stretch their arm forward and take a bishop in their hand, twirling it between their index and middle fingers while whistling nonchalantly; almost as a method to keep themself distracted.

“It could have all been ours, but hesitation! HESITATION!” Wraith growls, clenching their fist around the bishop; their hand begins to tremble, but their eyes stare across at Sabin; a part of Wraith wanting to blame Sabin for the hesitation, but deep down, knew that Wraith’s own hesitation was what was getting the best of them. They draw in a deep breath, and hold it for several seconds before exhaling it, in a manner to bring their own calmness.

“Show her…” Wraith mutters.

“It was a promise that when she was born, we would be able to call ourselves a champion! AND WE DID THAT! But that is not enough anymore, is it? It is never going to be enough, because now we fight for something more, and we fight for another. We want to show her that there is something about… all of this,” Wraith continues whilst still twirling the bishop between their fingers, slowing it down, and tapping it against the table, “This future, this dynasty, this industry, and everything it entails; will be hers.” They say and cock their head to the side.

“Mother fought for it for so long, and it is our turn to turn it into ours, and one day… ONE DAY… we will pass the mantle to her. But she must know how Mother conquered, she must SEE us conquer, and she must know that she, too, will conquer! But we have to show her the way. But we cannot show her the way when we hesitate, so hesitation…must…stop. When the day comes for her to take the mantle, she must know not to hesitate.”

Sabin continues to ponder his move for a moment longer before finally trapping a pawn between his knuckles, and moving the piece forward by one square. Sabin’s eyes look toward Wraith, who flings the bishop over their shoulder and, without looking at the board, grabs their own piece to answer Sabin’s move.

“We are not going to worry about what could have been. We are not going to worry about what should have been! Joe Montuori, and Jason Long–” Wraith snickers after their names escape, “The day will come that our paths will cross for a second time, but for now, they are not the concern… Our one and only concern is going to be who is ahead of us, and that is the…Ellie…Quinn,” They say with their lips curling back into a grin. They bite down on their bottom lip, anticipating the taste and savoring of their opponent’s, Ellie Quinn’s, blood, “Ellie Quinn. Ellie Quinn! She is someone that is no stranger to pain. What happened, Ellie?” Wraith questions.

“What happened to you? You have had a history of violence! You were once…a gladiator! The fans want to see blood, and the fans are going to get blood! That is the mentality of someone who enters a deathmatch each and every single time, because there is no way that you are leaving the ring unscathed. The shock, the horror, everything that anyone could imagine is going to be seen in those circumstances! And there are a lot of people in this industry that view themselves as…a gladiator…but then they become too afraid to do what the people want. And that is what leads me to question: what happened, Ellie? What happened that turned you weak?” Their lips are pursed together while half-expecting a response.

Another snorting laughter escapes before resuming, as well as the game, and without missing a beat on either, Wraith continues their own speech; however, as the game continues, Sabin begins to dissipate in front of them and Wraith is now left alone in the void, “I have heard you before talking a big, big game, for a long time, but you…like me…have been humiliated. You, like me, have suffered defeat! After defeat! After defeat! You have fallen. You have lost,” Wraith holds a palm up as if to put an empty platter on display, “everything.”

They take a momentary pause to let that mere fact sink into the mind of Ellie Quinn.

“The Social Casualty has lost her title. The Social Casualty has lost their ego. You were someone that was proclaimed to be one of the best to stand in the halls of Pro Wrestling Excellence but you have been nothing but mediocre over the course of the rebirth of the organization! You are someone that I should,” They chatter their teeth, “relish in fighting because of that spunk that you once had, that aura that once followed you… because that is what I want, Ellie: I want a fight! I want someone who is going to do everything in their power to attempt to break me. I want someone who is going to go to any length! My short time in this industry, I have gone against some of the most violent…vile…people that you could imagine! People that have built their careers through inflicting and taking as much pain as anyone could imagine, and quenching it with blood. And you shared that mentality, right? For the longest time… Right? That is why I must repeat the question: what happened to you? Because I look across at you, and I do not get that same feeling that I get against many other people… I do not see it. What do I see?” Wraith pauses momentarily to consider it.

“I see a victim. Someone who has done nothing but failed to live up to their own hype. I see…someone who believes they know something about pain, but then they tap out to someone as mediocre as Sabina Sainte! Sabina forced you to tap out, and she hardly knows what she is doing, but now you are going to be stepping into the ring with me–” Wraith chuckles under their breath as the words escape, “And I am going to bend…twist…contort your body in ways that it is not meant to go, and ensure that you feel every ounce of pain that I can dish out to you! I want to feel you in my arms, Ellie; I want to feel that last gasp escape your body when you succumb to the reality that you, simply, could not compete on the same level as me. I want you to reach for your sanctuary; I want to feel you grasping and begging me to show you just a little bit of mercy, but…” Wraith licks their lips, and shrugs one shoulder.

“I am not going to let hesitation be my downfall! I am not going to let MERCY be my downfall, and that is why when we enter the ring… you know that you are going to receive none of it.” Wraith leans forward, propping up on their elbows; they glance over the chessboard that has remained still since Sabin had left the void, and eyes their piece; they move the Queen forward into a square that would have earned the checkmate victory..

“I want to feel your hand tapping against me. A final plea for me to release you, as you would have admitted to me, and you would admit to the world that you are just not good enough… You are just not tough enough. Do you remember that feeling you had marching into Rebirth, Ellie?” Wraith asks, cocking their head to the side.

“Do you remember that level of confidence? I remember the confidence that I had when I walked down to fight Joe and Chelsea…” They emphasize the two names of their opponents from Rebirth, “But do you know the difference between the two of us on that night? I had it won! I had it in my grasp, and the only reason that I am not standing in front of you right now with the Impulse Championship around my waist… is because of Ophelia. The only reason that I do not have the Impulse Championship around my waist is because Joe needed a contingency!” Wraith leans forward, holding three fingers up, “I had the three-count. I had the victory, but I was robbed… What about you? As hard as you fought, Ellie, you never had it. You were never going to win. And so Angel took your title away from you, but as I say… that is not all you lost…” Wraith clicks their tongue several times.

“Pride. Pride is something that just means so much to us, does it not? You may have lost your title at this point, but you still had your pride! Enter… ENIGMA…” They say with a mischievous grin. The silence ensues for several seconds.

Wraith takes a deep breath, and snickers. They consider their own pride in this instance, and their pride that has been damaged; damaged by their loss to Joe Montuori, and then furthermore their loss to Jason Long.

“Twice in a row…” Wraith says, and looks absolutely disgusted, and gutted, “I have not had that many losses since I stepped into the ring, and the last time that I have had back to back losses was over one year ago! OVER! One year ago! And then again with Joe Montuori, and Jason Long. That is something about me, Ellie, is I do not claim to be unbeatable; I do not claim that nobody could ever take a victory over me, but as is the name of the game, that is never our goal: our goal is never to enter the ring and think that so long as we did our best, that is all that matters! NO!” The word escapes from behind their lips as a growl.

“If the ending result is defeat, then our best was not good enough, and the only thing that people are going to remember at the end of any given night is who is walking out with their arm raised! The only thing that people are going to remember at the end of the night is who is walking out with a title! That is why no one, besides me, will tell you the means in which Joe Montuori walked out with his title…because the only thing that did matter was that he did walk out with his title! But no matter how many times that I have been defeated, I have always come back with just a little more aggression, and more of a chip on my shoulder! That is what happens with every loss: I have something more to prove! I have something more to fight for! I have something more to gain! What do I have to gain?” They let out a heavy sigh, and tap their knuckles against the table several times.

“Gold. A victory over you is my path to take everything I want, Ellie, and I am a simple being. Hurting people inside of the ring has only been a perk of what I want! What I want is gold. What I want is this world to scream my name! What I want is everyone in this industry to sing my praises, and tell everyone that I am the greatest of all time… I want to be the greatest of all time, and the only way that I accomplish that is by taking everything!”

“But to get everything, I must conquer everyone. To conquer everyone, I do not like excuses! I do not like people to be able to say that I only defeated them because they were off their game; that is why I like to force people to tap out… because that is the only way that there can be no excuse! That is the only way that there can be no excuses! That is why I need you at your best, Ellie. I want you to know what you are stepping into the ring with; a monster that does not care whether you can walk out of the ring at the end of the night. But there is something else that I must admit: I do not like an easy fight, Ellie. I do not want easy prey. I like when someone gets into the ring and gives me a fight, and that is why I dug into every aspect of what you have done within the walls of PWE, and I want to see more out of you! I want you to make me bleed…I want you to do everything in your power to break me, I want you to dig deeper than you thought possible! I want to see that animal come out of you…the animal that would partake in deathmatches where anything and everything was a weapon, and the only limits were those of our imagination! I want the Ellie Quinn that was proclaimed to be one of the best in PWE to step into the ring with me because that is the Ellie Quinn that is going to give me the glory I seek! That is the Ellie Quinn that is going to have people singing a different tune… They are not going to be singing praises about Ellie Quinn, and how much potential she has, and how she could be one of the most talented people within the company; they are going to sing the praises of WRAITH! They are going to tell the company, tell the industry, and tell the world how I am on the rise… and there is not a damn thing anyone can do to stop me.” Wraith licks their lips, and traces their fingers down from the corners of their lips.

“Bring out every primal instinct you have, Ellie. Otherwise, it will not be pretty.”

Wraith chatters their teeth several times again, but the void that Wraith is present in begins to dissipate around them; the world, the real world, begins to materialize around and we return to the sunroom where Jennie, Sabin’s aunt, has walked into the room. She has a smile on her face as she walks toward her nephew with outstretched arms in a welcoming gesture to the newborn baby.

“How is my tiny angel?!” She asks with her voice filled with utter excitement.

Sabin carefully hands Mikaela over to Jennie, who cradles her; Mikaela coos several times while stretching her tiny arm upward to one of many dangling necklaces around Jennie’s neck.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping? Yes, you should! Yes, you should!” She answers as her tone shifts into baby speech, and then she continues babbling. Jennie shifts her attention up to her nephew, “And you, birthday boy! Why are you up so early?!”

“Me?” Sabin answers, absolutely appalled by the question, “What are you doing awake at this hour? You’re the one that likes to sleep in until noon.”

“I have gotten better!”

Sabin shrugs.

Jennie silently awaits Sabin to have a verbal reply, but after a couple of seconds pass, she realizes that he had nothing left to say. She could tell by the look on his face that he had something on his mind, and she gently rocks Mikaela back and forth in her arms, but her own facial features soften when she inquires further, “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” she asks.

Sabin looks toward his newborn daughter. He knew that his life was changed forever… long before she had even been born; since she was conceived; since the decision was made to keep her, he knew his life was different. Hesitation; something that he felt had been his own undoing within the confines of the ring, a weakness that he did not wish to have. He needed conviction, and so it was with conviction that he answered, “Yes.”

“It’s going to be a rough weekend for you…”

“I know, but… I promised, Tláak’w, I promised the company… I promised the industry… I promised myself that I would do this. I am not going back on my word. The day is going to come that I–” Sabin fumbles over the words for the next statement, knowing that Jennie’s boyfriend, Allen Chaney, is the Excellence Champion, “One day, I am going to become the Excellence Champion. That’s not something that I can accomplish unless I return to the ring.”

“But you also have a match the night before!” Jennie argues, her tone a little louder than she intended.

“It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last. I know that I’m going to have to earn back my reputation that I went to PWE with… And that’s what I’ll do. Don’t worry about me, though; worry more about your own title match.”

“Fiiiiine!” Jennie exclaims, “But go get ready. It’s your birthday, and we’re celebrating!”