“That is exactly why I don’t waste that kind of content for free shows.”
Sutler rolled his eyes as he leaned back in his sizable computer chair wearing little more than a pair of underwear. He stared at a sparsely filled chat room for his High Octane Hotties Cam account. It wasn’t his most successful stream.
“Besides, after that ridiculous finish to Bottomline, what do you expect? The Best Family haven’t made a new star in years and then they sit around whining about everyone’s perception.” Sutler muttered with a roll of his eyes. “The only people impressed with the Best Family are morons and babies. Why build new stars when we can just have another Best finish. Christ, you’d think they write this stuff for themselves.”
He chuckled at his own joke while shifting in his chair to snatch up a nail file. The chatroom began to fill with questions.
“The question I saw first was what about Xamxam Akaka. What about Xambert Azkme?”
Snorting loudly the Son of Scions brushes his black and #97Red hair from his face as he stares into the camera with his brown eyes.
“Listen, guys, I know you’re expecting me to have some great insight into Xander, it’s actually Xander right? But honestly I don’t know shit about him. He got slapped around by Jatt Starr for a spell and before that he was doing spooky shit with his spoopy cult.” Sutler scoffed.
Taking a few moments to examine his nails, the Son of Scions lets out a sigh, a frown tightening across his face. He had little to no interest in his match with Xander.
“The fact that this is the match they decided to stick me in instead of my well deserved rematch against Conor Fuse is kind of bullshit. It’s not like I can do much about it. Whatever was going on in grandpa’s demented brain part of it must have included fucking the dog at Bottomline and letting his Son knee him in the face. Way to overshadow his talent but then, welcome to High Octane Wrestling.”
A little alert went off when someone tipped Sutler causing the frown on his face to vanish.
“Thanks HOWTXStrong, your two dollar tip will go a long way toward paying for driving lessons.” he winked toward the camera. “Back onto Xander, just another hardcore hick with dumb tattoos only this one has a spooky cult. I have a theory that he was grown out of a piece of Kostoff that regenerated over time, complete with shitty record.”
Another snort from Sutler as he amused himself with his own shitty joke. He waited to see if anyone tipped but nothing seemed to hit. He shrugged before moving on.
“I imagine his body is probably pretty banged up which means lots of targets. Has anyone had the stomach to look at his face? Covered in scars, the true sign of a loser. Everybody knows that if you are a real winner when you get damaged you completely ignore it and again another two inches, like my uncle Mike.” he said with an incredulous tone. “They say it’s plastic surgery but even surgery would leave scars with the amount he’d need to get. I suspect it’s something else but I don’t have any proof yet.”
As he finished another alarm went off, this one marking the end of his broadcast. He flashed a pearly smile up at the camera.
“Well it looks like my time is up here, time to log off for the day. Thanks to everyone who kept me company and sent me tips. As you all know the quickest way to my heart is through your wallet.”
He winked once again while flexing toward the camera. People liked flexing, right?
The Kael Estate had seemingly grown once again overnight. The two estates to either side had been fully integrated over the last month. Three more of the surrounding properties had been purchased and quickly torn down. The home of the Kael Estate seemed to grow like a malignant tumor steadily expanding.
Despite its expansion there were.. Growing pains. The recent arrival of a supposed Chinese “clone” of Max Kael in the form of an infant had caused quite a stir. A schism had formed in the Kael Family that threated the survival of the whole flock.
There were the Loyalist, those that believed that Max Kael had been reborn in the child and that Sutler was the false Legacy of Kael. This faction was headed by MAXKAELJr who never left the presence of the baby.
Their rivals were the Purists, those who had given themselves over to their programming. They saw Sutler as the true heir of the Legacy of Kael. As you might suspect this faction was led by Mina Starr-Kael, the very same woman who had suggested throwing the baby out of the emergency exit of a plane. A growing hostility between the two ideologies had become problematic.
While the Loyalist retained more of themselves the Purists gave into their programming. Most devolved into unquestioning zealots eager to serve the Kael Family. Some might even suggest within the growing cult there was a war between those who believed in Max Kael and those who worshipped the Minister.
Others, like myself, will just plainly say it like I just did.
Sutler could have given two fat shits about any of it.
The twenty year old sat in the middle of his shower cross-legged as hot water poured down over him. He had been seated here for almost fifteen minutes crying as hard as he had ever cried in his life.
“..I couldn’t keep it..” the former World Champion mumbled pathetically.
Despite doing his best to no-sell losing the title publicly the former owner of the coveted #97red Strap was taking the loss fairly badly. Since losing the title weeks ago Sutler had been coming here to cry at least three times a week. Sometimes he’d catch himself tearing up and quickly yawn, claiming boredom or allergies.
Lying to the Family was easy given that they didn’t really care about Sutler’s mental wellbeing. Imagine that, mental health being a low priority in the Kael Family? Unfortunately hiding the pain didn’t make his loss to Conor Fuse any less easy to suffer quietly.
“..I wasn’t good enough..”
His voice was little more than a whimper as snot oozed from his nose and clung precariously to his lip. Sutler coughed a few times before finishing off by blowing his nose as the hot water washed it all away.
“And now Uncle Mike is back and if he gets his hands on the title I’ll never get it back… then what will I be?” he asked rhetorically.
Sutler’s eyes darted up as he heard the deep, growling giggle echoed around the bathroom. Despite the hot water running over his skin, the Son of Scion’s blood ran cold.
“Who the fuck is there?” the bitter young man hissed, doing his best to sound more angry than scared.
The lights in the shower flickered and for a moment Sutler swore he saw an inky black figure slinking through the back of the expansive bathroom. Every time he tried to lock his eyes on the dark mass it would vanish from his perception before dancing just beyond his field of vision somewhere else.
The chuckle seemed softer but no less chilling while it echoed around the bathroom. The Son of Scions quickly turned the water off and snatched a black bathrobe from a nearby hook.
“I can’t deal with this fucking shit right now.” he muttered to himself while he felt his body begin to shake uncontrollably. His emotional instability from losing the World Championship had left him weak. Now facing whatever the fuck this was? He was knee deep in spooky bullshit he couldn’t cope with.
Tying the bathrobe closed he spun around and came face to face with something straight from his nightmares.
A cadaverous vision of his dead father stood before. The corpse was nearly unrecognizable as it stood there. His ring attire that once clung tightly to his body was now loose, the muscle beneath long gone. Likewise the skeletal face was free of tissue save for a few strands of flesh and sinew that clung to the bone. Despite the gruesome appearance it was the mechanical red eye that cause the most dread.
“..y.. You’re ..d…dead..” he managed to sputter as his body froze in place. The terror he felt gripped him tightly. Despite wanting to scream or flee all he managed to do was quiver like a cornered fawn.
The flesh that remained on the ghastly apparition twitched, giving the impression that it was smiling.
“Or maybe you’re just..crazy..”
He heard the dead voice of his father ringing in his head as the appreciation took an unsteady step toward him. This broke the spell on Sutler as his body released, allowing him to back up away from the decayed thing in front of him. He felt his back hit the tile wall of the shower as the skeletal version of Max Kael took another shambling step forward.
“We burned you, ground your bones into dust and then tossed part of you into one of Mike’s protein shakes as per your instructions!” Sutler cried out as his eyes widened in horror. “..fuck me this isn’t looking good for the crazy theory..”
The thing in front of him paused and tossed it’s rotten head back. The jaw went slack as it hung unnaturally low, a growling, angry laugh filled Sutler’s mind. The sound was both offensive and terrifying at the same time and caused an intense pain to wrack the Son of Scions body.
“..STOP! Stop!” Sutler pleaded but the laughing only seemed to grow louder. It was joined by a chorus of others that he recognized. Conor Fuse, Eli Dresden, Lee Best, Mike Best, John Sektor, he even thought he heard the improbable high-pitched laugh of Darin Zion. He sank down to his knees and even though the sound seemed to come from his own head Sutler covered his ears.
The tears began to fill the corners of his eyes once again as he pressed his eye lids together in a desperate attempt to shut out that terrible sound. The strange skeletal monster standing before Sutler peered back down at him with that hateful red eye. It reached a boney, rotten hand out toward Sutler.
And then it was over. The laughter vanished and was replaced by the sound of rushing water. Instead of the cold hand of his cadaverous father, Sutler felt the warm rush of hot water raining down over him. Opening his eyes he found himself seated as he was earlier, naked in the center of his shower.
“What. The. Fuck.”
Quickly scrambling to his feet Sutler let loose a sigh of relief. It had all been a dream, he must have passed out while in the shower and had a nightmare. The soothing warm water washed away the panic and fear he had felt only moments before as he let out a chuckle.
Stepping out of the shower drained any sense of relief he might have felt from his body. Ice ran through his veins as he felt his body begin to shake once again.
On the steam covered mirror was a simple message scrawled in his dead father’s distinct handwriting.
“Defeat Xander Azula. Or Else. – M”
As Sutler eyes stared at the message he swore he saw something reflected in it.
A slinking shadow hiding behind him with a single burning red eye.
Sutler had fled the bathroom and for the next few days focused his efforts on the commandment of the words.
The gym had been where he spent most of his time pushing his body as he did his best to fill his mind with thoughts of his opponent. As he worked out he watched old matches of Xander in HOW, read his bio and listened to his promos.
Anything he could do to keep the vision of that terrible dark shadow with it’s burning red eye out of his own thoughts.
“Defeat Xander Azula.. Or else..”
Sutler muttered the words quietly to himself as he hit replay on the Bottomline match between Jatt Starr and Xander Azula. He set his phone down where he could easily watch it before checking himself out in the mirror. Sweet glistened across his chest while his body swelled from his recent physical activity.
“..okay.. Let’s do this. Siri, Begin Recording.”
A red light flickered to life indicating to Sut that the recording had begun.
“What up to my loyal followers in the State of Sutler, this video is going public, or at least the first part of this video. To catch the full video, check out my OnlyFans, we have a nine dollar and seventy cent first month special. As much as I bitch about Lee Best the #97 bit never gets old.”
Sutler runs his fingers through his sweat damp hair, smirking a little.
“So you guys probably want to know my feelings on a lot of things like my recent title loss to Conor Fuse, the return of my uncle, Mike Best and that.. Kneedless.. Spot at the end of Bottomline. I will address those things at some point but.. Uh.. today guys I just wanted to talk about one person.”
Backing up away from his phone, Sutler comes into full view. Like the man-whore you’d expect Sutler is barely dressed in anything wearing a #97red speedo.
“Xamba Asslulu or whatever the fuck his dumb ass name is. Now as some of you may know I said I wasn’t going to wrestle until I get my GOD DAMN WORLD TITLE REMATCH but.. You know, sitting at home for two weeks I realized I needed to work through a few things. Work through a few things in the ring.. With my hands.” Sutler holds both of his hands up, a confident smile obscuring any doubt.
The Son of Scions takes a step forward, plucking the phone up as his eyes watch the replay of the Xander/Jatt match beginning.
“I realized that I couldn’t just sit at home and jerk-off all day. One, your balls start to hurt and two, I realized I shouldn’t be taking this out on me. I really should be more productive and take out these frustrations on somebody else. Unfortunately for Xander, he ended up being my rebound match. Before this week I’ll be honest, I didn’t really know he was but uh..” Sutler pauses for a moment and the facade breaks slightly. A nervous expression peeks through the confidence but is quickly stuffed back down with a hollow laugh. “..I found myself very motivated to know everything I could about Xander, including his last name. Azula.”
The sound of the crowd on the replay crackles over the audio as Sutler seems to be walking toward the weight rack with the phone held at arms length.
“The Eternal Circle, you know, I was looking into that group, a real interesting bunch. They worship a Goddess, very modern. Not as established a cult as, say, Catholicism but then, don’t we all wish our cults were? Anyway, they’re the spooky sort, they like statues apparently. I mean I can understand the appeal of a statue, there is something very permanent about something carved into rock.”
He set the phone down before stepping back to be in full view once again. Selecting two twenty five pound weights off the rack Sutler began a series of reps. Thirst traps were supposed to help boost revenue, at least that’s what the YouTube video he had looked up on OnlyFans success said.
“Just the same his Cult hasn’t really been that helpful. Mine helped me win the High Octane World Championship making me the youngest wrestler in HOW history to do so and also one of the only War Games winners to do it on their first try. Maybe he should try a new Goddess to help him out, his current one kinda sucks. I think she’s a God of Chaos, Discordia or something like that. As I said, very modern, I play her a lot on Smite.”
The veins pumped like thick roots beneath his skin as he finished the reps. He approached the phone, allowing it to take in close up shots of his muscular arms.
“That would also explain his chaotic offensive, no real form of function to his attacks other than to hopefully get lucky and dump someone on their head. Probably works on idiots but as you know, my wonderful paying State of Sutler Sutizens, I’m no idiot. If he tries to suplex me I’ll rip that raccoon glued onto his chin off his beating of a face. Then I’ll drop him on his own fucking head. Chop block? I’ll ninja backflip over him and land on my feet. Drop toe hold?.. Well..”
Sutler looks thoughtful for a moment.
“That will probably work on me but I’ll just no-sell it like a Kostoff death. That is if he even manages to get that far, I just hope he realizes how ready I am to hurt someone. I just pray he appreciates how much fucking rage I have in me right now. I need him to know, and I hope someone tells him for me, that I want to hurt him. I want to beat him, I want to break him and I want to choke him out in the middle of the ring with the Sutler Method.”
He touches his index finger to one side of his throat and slides it across indicating a cut throat. When he finishes he winks and blows a kiss to the camera.
“Fine Sutizens of the State of Sutler.. OOOoooOOOOooOOOoOOUT!”
We cut away as Sutler turns off the live feed.