Lancaster's Inferno - the Gate of Hell
(Circle V - the Sullen and Angry)

Scene I: Wichita, KA - Kansas Coliseum - after Wildfire! - Monday, April 14, 2003

Surreal? But of course.

Yet perhaps an understatement of vast proportion.

I cannot give life through words of how I felt moments after the match had ended.

Hell seemed just a little bit further away than it had been these past few weeks.  For that one moment, I was enraptured and encompassed by history.

The shadows of every great name in CAL history became present, and then faded.

Hell did not take any consideration or sympathy on me, and swiftly returned.

I had made my impassioned plea to my wife in front of millions of people around the world.  Surely they heard my voice and my sincerity.  Had she though.

That, as Hamlet brooded, was the question.

Another matter induced a querying mind.  The gentlemen of the Authority stood, as if gargoyles, watching what they perhaps believed should have been theirs - the World Tag Team championship.

All was not well in their world, that much I knew.  But what business had they with Seamus and I.  I cast my eyes directly at Constantine, who with Napalm, applauded our achievement. Yet - their facial expressions did not correspond to the actions of their hands.

They vanished behind the curtain, and I knew there was something more to this.

I dismounted the turnbuckle pad and with Seamus, walked back up the ramp way, tired, exhausted, exhilarated.

Confused.

I truly hoped in my mind that the shadow of jealousy was not creeping into the minds of the Authority, that they would not consider any attempts at undermining our title reign.  I raced an analysis through my head of the situation at hand.

Did the Authority likely merit a title shot over myself and Seamus? Perhaps.  Did Marshall deliberately over look them? Of course.  But why they felt they had to come out to show their displeasure, if only facially, was beyond me.

Answers were in order.

I chatted briefly to Seamus, and we agreed that I would go seek out Constantine, seeing as Seamus wanted to call Rebecca immediately anyway.

I had earlier noted the location of the Authority's locker room that evening prior to the match, and headed in its general direction.  I came to it, still wearing my sweated through clothes and carrying the championship in one hand, I leaned forward to open their door, when from the corner of my eye I spotted Alex Constantine, sporting jeans, black boots, and an Authority shirt. He carried his gear loosely over his right shoulder.

I increased the pace of my steps and stopped a few feet away.  He heard approaching steps and turned around.  Having to deal with such pricks as the Darkness probably made his reaction, and, suspicion, a bit sharper.

My brown hair short and spikey...eyes fired up as though I thought a sneak attack was about to take place...the war with the Darkness never rests.  Ripper never rests.  He sees you and the reaction changes to a small smile and a relaxed look.

I did not expect a smile, but I welcomed it gladly.  I walked up to the man, and extended my hand.  I never really had a chance to get to know Alex Constantine, but here was my chance.  We ran with different groups over these past few years, and nearly came to blows a few times.  But I was glad that that was then, and this was now.

"Mr. Constantine.  The pleasure is mine."

"Not at all.  All mine, Lancaster.  Congratulations on a great match."

This was not the Alex Constantine I was expecting.  We shook hands and stood, face to face.  I nodded my head in appreciation of his remarks.

"Most kind."

I didn't hesitate in getting to the point.

"So.  What can I do for you.  I noticed yourself and Mr. Sullivan standing, not looking all too pleased.  I hope things are in order..."

I had no intention of being a shit disturber with the leader of the Authority.  I was inquisitive, and nothing more.

The smile disappears slightly as I look straight at him...

"Oh, don't worry about that.  It was not at all with you Robert.  More or less, it was watching the shot Napalm and I deserved gone because of Marshall's insane vendetta against us.  But you did great and you brought the CAL Tag titles where they belong."

I exhaled a large sigh of relief.  My lips cracked a reassuring smile and shook my head.

"God knows we'd all love to jam a pick ax up that son of bitch's posterior...and I hope we did the entire CSWA proud tonight. But be assured...if we ever have the pleasure of tangling with a CSWA team...I'll do whatever I can to ensure that you get it."

I attempted to relate my sincerity through my eyes.  I knew that a bond of respect had been made.  Since I had no further wish to keep Mr. Constantine from doing whatever he had to do, I decided to take my farewell.

"Well Mr. Constantine, I shant keep you any longer.  I thank you for your honesty."  We shook hands once more.

"Thank you Robert.  I look forward to watching your first defense.  Have a good evening."

I turned to walk off, when I one last thought entered my mind.  I stopped in my tracks and looked back at Alex.

"Do me a favour...keep that title of yours. And...if you ever need assistance in destroying the Darkness...you know whom to come to."

Alex smirked. "I'll remember that."  We turned and headed our opposite directions.

I felt placated by Constantine and knew that his word was his bond.

Then again...this man once joined forces with Ripper...he was not above bending the rules or committing savage acts when it suited him.

I chuckled to myself.  Fuck, neither was I.

....

Enough joviality.  You are coming to Hell.  And I shall not stop until you are here.

Hell's fiery hand declared itself yet again.

Goddamn.  

I was to be denied pleasure and the satisfaction that came with my victory, and clarifying things with Constantine.  My mind returned to one thing, the one thing that has occupied my minds for countless days and equally countless nights: my wife.

I ventured back to my locker room, a frown now dominating my demeanor.

I opened the door to find Seamus on the phone, chatting happily to Rebecca.  I patted him on the back and received a thumbs up in return.  I checked my mobile and hungrily anticipated a voice mail from Steph.

Just a short message, that was all I wanted.  Something to assure me that I had not been forgotten, something to say that she was proud, she loved me, she would respect my decision to not retire, contrary to her ultimatum.

....

Fuck.

Not a single solitary word.  God damn her. God damn her.

I tossed the phone down in disgust as I looked at the championship belt.  I looked at it with equal disgust.

Meaningless?

I wanted to get the hell out of there.  I needed to get the hell out of there.  

My duty was done for the evening.  I didn't bother to change.  I tossed the title into my gear bag and bid Seamus good night. He wondered where I was going but I didn't give him much to go on.

I walked into the parking lot and realized I had no car, only the black stretch limo that Seamus and I had rented earlier on.  

I cursed under my breath.  

For the first time in a long time I found myself wandering the streets of a city at night, nowhere to go, nothing to guide me, save my own anger.

Anger would prove to be my only companion that night.

And thus I continue.

Slipping. Falling.

You are coming to Hell.  And I shall not stop until you are here.