“I’m here because I know, Jacob,” Caroline told him. She sat close to him on the bed, but there was no kind of physical contact nor any kind of discernable affection shown. She was still angry with him, that much was evident, but at the same time it was equally obvious she still cared about him, at least on some level. She wanted to be there for McKail whether he liked it or not.

McKail exhaled cigarette smoke and shook his head, still confused. “You know what?”

“I know that you’re The Scourge.”

McKail simply glared at her for a second, his freshly lit cigarette half hanging off his lips. His hesitation was too long and completely betrayed him; the silence told Caroline more than a thousand words ever could. He should come clean already, Caroline already knew the truth so he should just confirm it and get it over and done with. But it wasn’t that simple - most things never are.

Thing of it was, it wasn’t exactly the first time McKail had lied to the woman he claimed to love. Weeks back, in Flagstaff, Arizona, just after his participation in the Chris Williams Memorial Cup came to an abrupt and an inglorious end, Caroline had caught him drinking himself to death in some dive of a bar. He was ashamed of himself and drinking only way that he knew to deal with it. He should’ve done better, he should’ve won the whole damned tournament and done something to honour his late wife‘s memory. But he didn’t. He had his grasp and he failed. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t worthy. A few days before, he’d explicitly promised her to cleanup his and get his life back on track. Hell, he even attended an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting and listened to some real losers spill horror stories that turned out to be their lives. She walked out of the bar, walked of his life disgusted at what he’d become and what’s more, he’d let her.

He told himself he didn’t deserve her, that she didn’t need to be put through all of his shit just as her sister and McKail’s late wife, Mary, had suffered through. He told himself it was better this way. He told himself that cutting himself off from those whom loved him was the more humane option. He told himself he didn’t need that burden anymore.

He couldn’t have been more wrong and now she was back; she walked right back into his life not five minutes ago and already he couldn’t help but harbour the thought of lying to her, of pushing her away. Again. He disgusted himself.

“The Scourge?” He finally responded. “What the hell is that?”

Caroline sighed and disappointment shot across her face. McKail felt his stomach lurch and deep pain at the very core of his being throbbed, as if something inside of him, a portion of his soul, was about to die and wither away into the ember. The compulsion to prevent Caroline from getting to close, was obviously too strong to resist.

“You think I’m stupid?” She questioned, forcing eye contact. “You think I can’t recognise my own boyfriend on Television?”

McKail just stared at her blankly, unsure of what to do or to say. The one thing he knew for certain was, he couldn’t lie to her again. He didn’t have it in him.

History
Columbus, GA
Some crappy motel room,
Now…

Get up!

Put the fucking bottle down and stand your ass up!

Now!

It was a helluva time to get a little motivation, to get a little drive. Three quarters of the way through a bottle of Jack Daniels, numb all over and without the use of his legs.

Get up!

Three hours. That’s all he had left. Three hours until this weeks’ Uproar went live on the air. Three hours until he stepped foot in the ring with one of the best allies a man could have. Three hours until he desperately attempted to maim said ally beyond all recognition.

Get your ass up!

McKail managed to swing his legs over the side of his concrete-laden model room bed, with great effort, and waited for the longest time for an impromptu dizzy spell to evaporate and his stomach to stop threatening spectacular convulsion.

You’re a fucking disgrace! You know that?

Ethan Frost. The man was a great aid in taking that bastard Clinton Sage down back when McKail still has self respect, back when he…well, back when he was still a man people could respect, if not revere. They stood side by side against the Affliction when nobody else would. They were heroes.

Throw the rest of that damn liquor down the sink…

No. They were just ordinary people with delusions of grandeur. They were fighting a war they could never win. Not really. The Affliction were stronger, meaner. They were bound by no laws, no rules…no morality. They were always going to win.

…and sober your ass up!

McKail realised it all too late. Now he was on the winning side. Now he was playing the game smart. Now he was beginning his true ascension in the world of wrestling and the sky was the limit.

McKail stood and briefly paused, allowing his equilibrium to restore itself. He then reached down to the floor and hauled his jeans up over his feet and felt them cling tight to his legs as he dragged them ever upward. In his inebriated state, even this was an almighty task. He cursed under his breath.

Get your act together, McKail!

He slipped into yesterday’s stained and inevitably creased T-shirt and headed for the door. He had a match to prepare for and he was going to be ready for it if it damned well killed him.

The Affliction way was the right way, the only way to win. And it was important that Frost to come realise that too.

Truth
Detroit, Michigan,
Some crappy motel room,
Then…

“I still have no idea what you’re talking about,” McKail told her, exhaling more acrid smoke into the air.

Caroline sighed. “You’re not going to admit it, are you? Even to me?”

McKail looked away, his eyes fixing upon a crack in the sterile motel room wall. He was only digging himself a deeper hole now. One day he knew the Scourge mask would have to be removed. It was the nature of the beast, it was Clinton Sage’s plan all along. Prolonging this façade would only serve to severe his relationship with Caroline forever and that just wasn’t something he was ready to give up. At least not yet.

“Say if I was this ‘scourge’ character,” McKail finally said, exhaling again, “what of it?”

Caroline could only look at her feet. It was as good as admission and they both knew it, however, Caroline momentarily decided to ignore the fact that he’d lied to her, just long enough to voice her outrage.

“What of it?” She responded. “You’re aligning yourself with someone you hate! You’re turning on anybody and everybody who have begrudgingly accepted you as an ally, if not friend, in the business! You’re burning all of your bridges and you don‘t even realise it!”

“Of course I realise it,” McKail told her. “I just don’t much care.”

“But why?” Caroline asked. “Why are you doing this?”

Now, that is the question, isn’t it?