Kingdom Come 8: Abel Hunnicutt vs. Austin Reynolds [No Disqualifications]

[Da Prophet]

Former Vis Imperium member Austin Reynolds faces retribution by Abel Hunnicutt. After Austin Reynolds was betrayed by Vis Imperium, Abel Hunnicutt has set the ball in motion to make Reynolds life a living hell. It's working. At Kingdom Come they will finally face off, in a no disqualification match!

Deadline is Monday 23rd January 11:59pm (CT)

 

[a0161613]

As a dad, there’s something amazing about reading a bedtime story to your kids. It’s something so basic yet so fun. It’s easy to take it for granted.

“Rawr!!!” I growl loudly, deep and guttural whilst grinning widely. The two beautiful girls in my arms collapse with high pitched giggles. My arms instinctively coil around their mid-sections and my fingers reach into their ribs and prod them gently. The giggling is only amplified by the tickling.

At this time, I don’t think I could be happier. I don’t need any invitation to continue the last part of my favourite story.

“Jack runs to the entrance and starts to climb down the beanstalk again. Soon enough, the thump, thump, thumping footsteps of the giant can be felt. Jack is near the bottom when the beanstalk starts to shake violently. Jack looks up and can see the massive boots of the giant, moving slowly down the stalk.” Hayley pokes her head around the corner of the room, looking admirably at how the girls are mesmerised by their storyteller. "Jack gets off the beanstalk and runs to the shed, for he has an idea. He pulls out an axe and runs over to the thick base. He swings his heavy axe, once, twice, three times! The giant doesn’t stop! Jack swings again and again and again - !”

“And then BOOM!!” Hayley jumps and shouts dramatically, drawing a loud, gleeful squeal from her daughters, who collapse with uncontrollable laughter. We bury our heads into the bellies of the girls, smothering them with kisses.

Eventually the girls have been calmed back down and are ready for bed. I have one resting in each arm, nuzzling in the crooks of my elbows as they allow themselves to relax in the darkened room. I almost allow myself to drift away as well, only for wonderful sounds and smells from downstairs to bring me back to reality. I leave the girls to their dreams, it seems impossible to wrench myself away from them yet I know that I should be grateful for the time that I have spent with them. They are wonderful, they are mine. I am so lucky.

It’s this feeling of fortune that I consider as I wander downstairs, following my nose to the kitchen. As I get there, I cannot help but notice how amazing Hayley looks. Even now, as she scurries busily around the kitchen, she has a glow about her. It’s something that cannot just be put down to the heat of the kitchen. The light bounces playfully off her skin, her curves are entrancing, and that adorable thing she does with her hair. It stirs up old emotions, feelings that i don’t know how to deal with, not right now. It’s not the time.

Oh crap, she caught me staring. Crap, crap, crap. OK, play it cool. Act like you’ve got your shit together.

“Hey, they went down ok?” “Of course, no trouble.” She starts to dish up, a juicy steak, grilled Mediterranean veggies and Cajun wedges. A true favourite of ours from back in the day, a meal she almost always cooked when I was back from being on the road. I take the plates and bring them to the dining table. I pull her chair and wait for her to sit down. I force my eyes away from her, I’m now so self-aware and I hate it. I hate how she makes me feel.

We sit down and in minutes there’s a spark as we talk. The meals almost go cold as we talk more and eat slower. Only the kids. No work. No history. It’s exactly the conversation that I wanted. I find more about their quirks, the things they like and dislike; their similarities and difference. I find it fascinating, the passion with which she talks about them. I wish I had the energy that she does. A stray thought crosses my mind as I ponder over a large chunk of meat. I think I need to be brave.

“You’ve done an amazing job with those girls. I....” I hesitate and my voice wobbles. “I’m sorry for everything that I put you through. I’ve been an utter bastard for the hell that I’ve put you through.”

Hayley moves her hand, hesitantly at first but she grabs it forcefully. “The man who left me, he wasn’t the man I fell in love with. He wasn’t the man who took WZCW by the horns and went toe-to-toe with the best” “Stop, I’ve never been that good” "No Austin, listen. No matter what anyone else says; You were very, very good. You were an excellent Elite X champion, you should have won the World Title and you did a great job as a tag team with Ricky. Do not let anyone, anyone make you believe otherwise.”

I smile feebly, struggling to accept the compliment. I can see that she is being utterly genuine, staunch in her defence of me. She clenches my fist and I grip hers, stroking that soft bit of skin between her thumb and index finger.

“And you will do a great job of being a father to our daughters. I -”

I’ve heard enough, I reach forward and grab her, passionately bringing her head towards mine. I feel her resisting my kiss once, twice and then she succumbs but I stop, realising that I have overstepped. I look up sheepish and apologetic. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.”

I begin to clear up the empty dishes but she grabs me by the wrist and forces my hand to put it down. She walks away in silence, almost disappearing from sight. I feel my cheeks become flush with embarrassment and shame. As I put the dishes in the sink, I wonder how on earth I have managed to screw up, cursing myself for believing that after everything I could have something, anything resembling a happy ending.

I potter around for a few minutes, wiping down the sides and tidy up. As if doing a few minor domestic chores could make up for any of my idiotic behaviour over the past few years. With no sign that Hayley is going to return I reach for my jacket and head for the door.

“Austin, where are you going?” I look upstairs and see Hayley, peering round the corner of the hallway. I’m rendered speechless. She moves away from sight and I wonder what have I done to deserve this amazing angel in my life?

What happens next is, well you don’t need to know the details.

A few hours later, I wake up half wrapped with the sheets around my waist. Hayley is laying face-down next to me; her skins still slightly glistens even in the poor light. Even half awake I find myself drawn to her. I sit forward and plant a kiss on the back of her neck before getting up.

I walk slowly around over the bay window and debate life going over in my mind. This was the perfect night in many ways but in a few days, I had to change my focus yet how could I go to war? I am happy; at least I think I am. What threat could I pose to Abel Hunnicutt? He’s a machine, bred for a fight. Sure he hadn’t had the success that a man with his attributes should have. Heck, if Constantine had been able to get his mind focussed on Cooper and Keaton as well as he had on me then maybe things would be different.

But this was no time to be thinking about that. I could think about the Elite Openweight Championship and what should have been but it would only serve to get my head kicked off by Abel at Kingdom Come. I can’t let my mind wander, not to Constantine or Holmes. Right here, right now it’s Abel or nothing.

It’s impossible though. It’s all so frustratingly, intrinsically linked. Just like I’ve been driven to come back here and repair the irreparable damage to my family, I’m drawn to Kingdom Come to end this war with the soldier of Vis Imperium.

What could I possibly achieve by beating Abel? Is this how I possibly achieve the happy ending that I can’t possibly deserve? The main question remains? How do I beat Abel? Right now, I don’t really know. Some time passes, I don’t know how long but Hayley wakes me by stroking my head as it rests on my knees. I must have dozed off.

“How long have you been up?” I rub my eyes trying to drag myself awake. “Not sure. Just had a lot on my mind.” She brings my head into her belly, it’s only then that I realise that she’s still naked. I’m not going to lie. Beating Abel is shoved to the back of my mind once more when the blood empties from my head. “I tell you what. You go to New Orleans, get past Kingdom Come and we will be here when you get back. No matter what.” I nestle into her navel once more. “Can it be that simple?” I swing my legs around and sweep her off her feet and onto my lap.

“Austin, you go to Kingdom Come the same way you have always gone to Kingdom Come. You go ready for a fight & you go to steal the show. When you’re done, come back here because we’re not going anywhere.” “I don’t know if I can do that. I’m not The Rati-” “The Ratings Winner? You may not feel like it but to me, you always have been and there will be an arena full of people who will agree.” I smile weakly, such high praise from her seems undeserving.

“When you came back, it had such an impact because no one expected it. The same thing happened at Unscripted and Lethal Lottery. You may not feel like The Ratings Winner but you have been part of some truly amazing things.” “Getting you back has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I don’t know” I stop, speechless again, as I wonder how to express this underlying stream of thought that had been buried at the back of my mind. “I don’t know if I have the fight for anything else any more. Maybe this should be it. I can end this on a high note, on my terms. That way I don’t have to worry about losing you again and becoming that person once more. I mean it’s No DQ against the protégé of Steven Holmes and John Constantine. It would be an amazing way to go, if I win.”

“Look” She forces me to look directly at her. “They don’t have anything on you. You won’t lose me or the girls. I think that you need to do this Austin.” She’s adopted a firm tone now, I can sense that she is doing the very best thing for me. “You go have fun at KC. You need to go there and enjoy it. You’ve been in wars before. He may win but make him truly deserve it, force him to do something special.”

For all his connections, Abel Hunnicutt has never really achieved anything. He’s has so much about him. But can I beat him? It will take something special.

These thoughts are buried in my mind. I’ve got some time to focus on them when I leave. Leaving can wait, I lift Hayley up and she wraps her legs around my hips, we fall to the floor in a passionate tangle of limbs.

Something special: Isn’t that what The Ratings Winner tries to do best?

 

[FunKay the Inevitable]

Holmes Manor stands ablaze. The most leisurely of palatial homes is consumed. Embers, bright and burning, make their way up the intricate vine-work, like slithers of flaming serpentines. Brickwork is crisping in the orange and red glow. Inside the dynasty of the Holmes family, their furniture, artwork, family secrets, all of it is being torn asunder. The heat and the fire lift upwards toward a clear night sky. Cold, crisp and now burning oh so bright.

The help, servants and all have long since fled. Only one man now basks in the blaze, his eyes gleaming at the flicker of flame. Many will speculate whether it was he who started the blaze, but no evidence will conclude such findings. He however bears a smirk, his yellowed teeth, deeper and darker as a result of the fire. Scars laden across his body cast deep shadows. There is a sense of satisfaction, only disrupted by the sound of sirens, engines roaring their way towards the flames, determined to extinguish the fire that has begun to grow wilder.

Here, Abel takes his leave, slowly marching backwards, descending into the darkness of the night, escaping the glow and warmth and embracing the night.

___________________________________________​

An abandoned warehouse; we’ve been here before. Huge factory fans still ever so slowly rotate, grunting and groaning with great effort. What little natural light remains creeps in through gaps in their rotation. Water drips everywhere. The stench of damp is thick in the air. A sullied mattress is lain in one corner of the enormous space. A battered, used and abused, tire sits propped against a wall, sledgehammer beside it. A dog-eared training mat sits atop a puddle. In another corner stands a punching bag, and it is here where we once more find the man called Hunnicutt.

He feverishly pounds away at the bag, patched up with duck-tape and glue. Rights and lefts go flying in. He wears the one set of clothes he appears to own now. Sweat is pouring off of him. He is grimy and clearly unwashed. His eyes still have that look in them though. As his taped fists collide over and over with the bag, something claws its way up from his stomach and suddenly he drops to one knee. He coughs like mad, a full on fit, echoing throughout this large, empty space. Thick black tar surfaces. He spits it out as his episode subsides. He wipes his mouth, rises again and begins once more.

Later now and Abel sits on the mattress, something wrapped in newspaper in his massive paws. A chicken leg. He devours it. Tearing into its flesh he chomps and gnaws on the meat. In no time at all it is done. He tosses the remnants, the bone, across the room. A sigh. Abel raises his hands, inspecting them; bruised, battered, ruined. His body has always been a canvas of scars and wounds, but now more so than ever before, he is physically ruined.

His rage, his passion, his pure genetics, they’ve always pulled him through, but now, with his master AWOL, his place in history un-assured and his former ally now set to collide with him, it appears his physical being is failing him, just as he had always feared his mental being would. Suddenly he spurts and hacks and coughs and again the black tar rises. He doubles over in pain and huddles into himself for warmth.

___________________________________________​

Still water rests comfortably, glistening in the rising dawn. Its quiet and serene qualities timeless, forever peaceful and beautiful. Then, it is all thrown away. A monstrous frame comes hulking its way into the large body; once more it is Abel. He drops down so he is totally submerged. There is a beat, a moment where all appears to be at an end, at a loss. Then, bubbles ripple to the surface and ultimately he rises up gasping for air. He whips his knotted and grotty hair back. Wiping water from his eyes, Abel spits to the side and chuckles lightly.

Abel: N’awlins, Louisiana…

He nods, feeling whatever is bubbling underneath slowly beginning to heat up.

Abel: …the final resting place o’ one Aus-tin Rey-nolds. No Mastah Holmes. No Kea-ton. No Mister Con-stan-tine. Only me an’ you. I’ve lost a mastah, I’ve lost a queen, a friend, a brother, a father an’ oh so much more. I’ve been ta’ war an’ tasted hell itself. I know that loss.

Hunnicutt shakes his head and dips his hand down into the water. As he raises it up, the crystal clear liquid filters through his gargantuan digits.

Abel: You think you know that? Huh? HUH?!? Nah man. Jus’ ‘cause you once had some broken bones, an’ you were wracked in a bit o’ pain, an’ you suffered a few o’ them bounced checks, ‘cause yer family wasn’t so tight, you think that means ya’ know pain?

The mighty hand of Abel comes crashing down in to the water, sending it in every direction. He pauses, waits for it to go still once more and then continues.

Abel: Uh-uh. You still coulda’ gon’ an’ ol’ job. Ya’ coulda’ sold some cars, taught in some school, hell, even served the public. But no, like some sort o’ fool, you come crawlin’ back to this place, to this cesspool. You don’ got addicted son and it eats you up. You need this, you hunger fo’ it. Jus’ like me, but damn it you had the choice. You chose to be an addict. I can’t ever not be man. I always had to be it. Ah mean hot damn son, look at me.

LOOK.

AT.

ME!

Am a goddamned freak! Ah ain’t nevah had no choices in mah life. I was always detined to lead this life and ah don’ cry ‘bout it. Ah jus’ get stuck in an get down n’ dirty wit’ it. An at this point, heh, at this point, am overly qualified fo’ the task at hand.

Once more, Abel looks at both his hands, swollen and bruised and battered and torn and cracked and damn near broken and through it all he grits his teeth and closes his fists.

Abel: At Kingdom Come, am a gonna’ carve you up boy. With mah own two han’s, am gonna’ leave you nuttin’ more than pulp. No disqualification means no limits. Means that angry river gonna’ rise up an’ swallow you whole boy. You once was on the right side o’ the tide, now, now you gonna’ be drownin’, an’ when your corpse don’ float to the surface, ain’t no one gon’ recognise what I done to ya’.

Yer little girls…they’ll cry. Yer wife…she’ll shriek. An’ the fans…they gonna’ be recoilin’ in horror. No more hero then, eh man? No more savin’ the day, no more standin’ up fo yo’ moral self. None o’ that. Hell, no mo’ standin’. After its all said n’ don, then Rey-nolds, then you’ll what ah am. Then you’ll get it. Then maybe he’ll get it. Then maybe he’ll realise what he’s released upon this Earth.