She feels the Uber come to a stop, listens to the exchange of money and last minute pleasantries, as well as the Baphomet exiting the car. She gropes blindly, trying to find the door handle. Her fingers just touch it when it is whisked out of her grasp and he is there, lending her aid as she slips from the vehicle. He keeps a hand steady on her elbow as he leads her, feeling the ground change under her feet. Soon she can hear the solid thunk of wood under their feet, the melodic sounds of water, along with the even fainter sounds of a big city far off in the distance. He halts her, and she waits patiently. “Step down.” His voice comes to her. She takes his hand and trustingly does as she's told, stumbling ever so slightly into a boat. She feels around until she finds the seat and settles down for the right as the Baphomet pilots the boat across the body of water. She rocks as the boat is landed, once again feeling his hand on hers to assist, listening as a door opens.

Lycana, still blindfolded, carefully follows the Baphomet into... wherever it was they were going. She pulls the hood from her head. She is forced to use all her concentration and senses to ‘feel’ her way through, placing her feet lightly in front of her until she stops short of walking into him. She hesitates, wondering if she should remove the blindfold. Everything within her tells her to wait, and so she does. She feels his hands touch her temples, one gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, before both go around her head to untie the blindfold. It drops, and she blinks her eyes to adjust to the new lighting, dim as it was. His hand caresses her face as she looks up at him, a short nod of approval, and he moves to the side, allowing her to see everything before her.

"Kneel..." Baphomet whispers into Lycana's ear, and she follows his direction without hesitating as they both fall to their knees. "My Goddess..." Baphomet speaks out, "I have summoned the one you requested... The wolf." The image of the Baphomet begins to animate, its head tipping forward to look upon the kneeling Lycana and Baphomet before Her. "Stand before me, Baphomet." Baphomet and Lycana both rise at Her command. "My goddess, this is Lycana..." Baphomet proudly introduces his second recruit. Lycana looks upon the figure in awe, she might not fully understand just who this was, but the power about filled the room, one could sense they were in the presence of something extraordinary.

"I see, child," She responds. Her voice is silken but distorted, as if an ethereal echo was layered into every syllable. "So, this is the one you have spoken of so highly?" The image tilts towards Lycana, its eyes gazing directly into hers. "Seeing her here, I begin to question your judgment." The figure flicks down and inward for a moment, still focused on her. "You. Come forth, young one," She requests, Her tone imperious. "Speak to Me of your dark deeds. Tell me how such a small, frail-looking creature such as you holds the secrets of a beast within." Her voice remains commanding, but Lycana can hear, perhaps in the strange echo, a tinge of amusement.

Lycana steps forward, unable to resist the behest. She resists the urge to glance at the Baphomet, keeping her eyes instead on the adulated figure before her. She stops directly in front of Her, inclining her head in reverent manner. "Goddess..." She whispers. She pauses, the mood of the chamber pressing on her. She starts once more, the cadence of her voice quiet, but strong much like velvet coated steel. "I know not where to start, there are many things I can tell you. My favored, was the decimation of a particular dove... who blasphemed, refused the darkness... no, mocked it... wrapping her cloak of arrogance about herself. Her neck was snapped under my tender ministrations..."

The image leans forward, seemingly growing larger as it looms towards Lycana. "And tell me, pup, what went through your mind when you felt the bones give way beneath you?" Something flickers in Lycana’s eyes moments before she speaks. "Pleasure." The answer flies forth from her mouth immediately. "The sound of her neck striking the ground, the delicate crack that reverberated through her body, from there into my own..." her voice grows hushed as she relives the moment in her mind. "The sight of her splintered body, motionless, demolished... more gratifying than I can put to words."

The figure rocks back easily as she speaks, in response rather than reaction. When Lycana finishes, She responds to her with silence. There is an excess of it, upwards of twenty seconds. This might almost be construed as disapproval, but the particular tilt of the Baphomet image instead belies a sense of jocular delight. The image suddenly straightens and Her voice booms out once more. "You revel in the kill? Your passion is commendable, but your drives must be kept harnessed. The Left Hand is oft a fist, but it occasionally takes more subtle form. How can we know we can rely on you if your targets are ever to remain among the living?"

Lycana had remained motionless during the silence, waiting with bated breath for some kind of response from the figure before her. She begins her answer with true regret filling her voice. "She lives, Goddess. Regretfully, in my own eyes. The Baphomet allowed me from my chain, with few restrictions... and I adhered to them though I wished not to. Indeed, my drive can be all consuming but I derive much satisfaction from the build up, near as much as the climax." She pauses for a moment. "Control, my Goddess... I have been told is an area I lack, but under Baphomet's guidance I have learned much patience." Her voice fades off.

There is another silence. Shorter this time, and this time, it ends in a peal of laughter. This, too, possesses the eerie layered quality, producing a musical and haunting tone. "I may have read my intimations too hastily! It seems this one possesses some wits about her, after all." The image tilts from side to side as She ponders towards Lycana some more. "You are skilled in the deliverance of retribution to those who would defy our power, young wolf, but that is not all I seek in adherents. My dark desires could ask much of you, even sacrifice if it should come to such. You delight in the delivery of pain, but can you handle its reception?" The image stops tilting and turns to face Lycana again, motionlessly boring into her with its shadowed eyes.

Lycana's face comes alight at the query. Her whole being nearly vibrates with excitement, eagerly she begins the tale of her match with Marf, telling Her of all the sublime punishments he had administered to her body. "My goddess, I was able to partake in a match of sadistic proportions. Indeed, we agreed to discard all the absurd rules imposed upon us, opting instead to allow our violent nature roam free. Teeth were used. Blood flowed freely. Bruises bloomed on flesh, and still we continued. It was bliss. My only regret is that the official stopped us long before the full satisfaction was reached. Pain is divine my goddess, I crave it's loving caress." Her voice has reached a crooning cadence at this point. She loved pushing her body to its limits and it showed.

Another laugh rumbles through the chamber, this one a low, almost chuckling noise. "So, the puppy loves pain, does she? Good, good. This will be... beneficial... for the trials to come, I am certain. But know this, Lycana..." There is another pregnant pause as the image shifts, flickering for an instant before looming large over her once again. "The work ahead will require dedication beyond mere pleasure seeking, enlightened as it may be. Furthermore, there are limits to the types of pain one can crave. If you fail Me, or worse, cross Me in our pursuits, then rest assured that I will take just as much delight in introducing you to those limits." Another slight pause follows. "Of course, a successful wolf will be rewarded in kind, as well. I am sure such a reward would be... commensurate with your particular interests. I trust that is acceptable?"

Lycana tilts her head respectfully in acknowledgement to both Her promises. Her hands come in front of her to clasp each other. "It is understood Goddess, I should deserve everything bestowed upon me should my efforts dwindle and I do not live up to what is expected of me." She looks down at the floor a moment, before raising her eyes to meet with Her's once more. "Anything that one, such as you, chose to grant this humbled wolf, would bring nothing but elation. I can make all affirmations, that I shall do whatever it takes to rise in your esteem. Mere words now, but actions in truth to follow." She says in a voiced laced with determination.

"My goddess," Baphomet interjects, "I trust Lycana with great confidence... and will continue to provide her with the resources needed to serve your will wholeheartedly... there is, a matter of which I must request your audience outside of Lycana's introduction... with your permission, of course..." Baphomet lowers his face to await her approval. On receiving Her nod, he continues. "A less intelligent dog has refused to learn a new trick. In spite of our melee against him, Tommy Romeo persists. Surely, eradication at this stage would bring too much attention to our order- I have decided to kill two birds with one stone and work within the shadows to achieve our result... but, to your dismay, it will take a considerable amount of time before our result has come to fruition... what does My Goddess suggest in the meantime regarding Tommy Romeo and the Idealist that he beds?"

The figure recedes back to its original neutral position as Baphomet cuts in, and tips forward as if to bid him proceed. "I will not begrudge a need for patience, Baphomet," She responds to his concern, the slightest hint of a gentle tone reaching the edge of the echo. "And your acquisition of my newest pet pleases me enough to overlook any transgression it may deserve, all the same. In fact..." The figure rotates towards Lycana once more. "Perhaps the pet can show her value by leading this effort against the simpleton? Would you consider this a task for which you are capable, pup?"

Lycana keeps her excitement under control the best she can. She nods her head in the affirmative, a small smile quirking the corners of her lips upwards. "Such an errand would be quite to my liking, for you see Goddess, that particular fool has opened his mouth and spewed forth many a derogatory comment. He has had a taste of my attentions before, but never my full attentions. I view the chance to change that with ardor." She nearly purrs. The figure then turns its attention to Baphomet. "Then it shall be done! Take the pup and go, my child. See to her needs in this endeavor. I expect our next encounter to be resplendent with news of our great successes."

"A wise decision, my Goddess." Baphomet nods in agreement. "We shall not disappoint you." The two drop to their knees once more, reverent as the figure returns to motionless as She leaves them alone once more. The Baphomet approaches Lycana wordlessly, merely holding up the blindfold. She simply nods and stands patiently as he ties it around her face once more. In silence, they move in reverse, back through the hall, and out into the night where the cool air caresses Lycana’s hair, sending it swirling about her head. She accepts the help from the Baphomet in getting back into the boat, settling in for the ride back to where it had all begun.

She lets her mind wander a bit, letting the activities of the night roll through, picking all the details. The Baphomet remains silent through it all, and so she responds in kind. They understood each other without words quite often. As the boat bumps against the small pier that jettied out into the water, she raises the hood once more, tugging the strings so it partially closes around her face, once more obscuring the blindfold from anyone who cared to look her way. They make their way back, where thanks to a good tip (bribe) Tim has remained waiting, beating a tune on his steering wheel with his fingers.

He looks up into the rearview mirror as Baphomet nudges Lycana into the backseat, having her shift all the way over so that he can join her. “Same spot you said earlier?” Tim jovially asks. The Baphomet switches right back to his ‘regular guy’ mode, and affirms this. They go back and forth now talking about the weather, the traffic flow, and all kinds of basic everyday affairs. After a time, Lycana starts sliding into sleep, until she feels the blindfold slipping away. She gropes for it, until she realizes it is being done on purpose. She blinks as she sees they are pulling up to the airport. They get out as Tim pops the trunk, revealing a small suitcase the Baphomet has prepared for Lycana. With a grin of thanks, a look of understanding passes between them. She whisks the bag up and heads into the building, and onto Italy. She had work to do.

LATER

Lycana makes her way through the streets of Italy as night settles over the beautiful city of Milan. The streets were a bit more bustling here, groups of people out looking to have a good time, or just out and about looking at the lights as she was. Her eyes took in all the fine details of the architecture around her, something she had grown to appreciate during her time within her Order. They had opened her eyes to really focusing on everything around her, to make note of things a regular person might skip over, but she treasured. It seemed such a simple thing, and one most took for granted. Perhaps, it was one of her most unexpected quirks. Yes, the lover of darkness also was an enthusiast to things that pleased her visually.

She makes her way over to a gaily lighted fountain and settles onto its edge, crossing her legs at the ankles and tucking them under the ledge. She stared into the swirling waters within the base of the fountain and allowed herself to drift back, and think about the meeting with Her. It had been an honor... one she wasn’t sure she understood, but if she was revered by the Baphomet, then she was a Goddess in every sense of the word. And the task She had set forth for her! She couldn’t have known just how much she loved needling Tommy Romeo, and how much disdain the two had for each other... but She had just handed Lycana a gift that she was greatly looking forward to.

She could think of all kinds of ways to make that addlebrained dullard rue the day he was born, but for now she would have to put those absolutely delightful ideas aside. She was here to wait for her partner, and needed to focus on the two that they would be taking on this coming Wednesday. She glanced around the square, her eyes skipping from person to person until she spied a single figure, moving with defined purpose towards her. She rises as Ash Quinn, determination written all over her face, stops in front of the fountain. Her entire body is stiff, anger obviously coursing its way through her bloodstream. Lycana’s mouth curves upwards. Good.

“Ahh Ash, have our sweet boys displeased you?” Lycana purrs the words, a knowing look on her face. Ash blows her hair out of her face before placing a hand on her hip. "These two don't understand that neither one of us are just some stepping stone, some speed bump before the next match. I think we are well on the way to proving that, but anything we can do to finally put it to rest will help our case." Frustration is evident in her tone. Lycana nods her head. She would have to agree with Ash. They likely did see them as speed bumps, but then again... she looked at Corey and R.L. the same way. They just existed for her to have fun with in the ring, temporary playthings.

However, being overlooked time and time again, she could see how that would rankle. Her voice dips into a soothing nature. “They will learn Ash. They may think that we are going to be a breeze to get by, but that is a fallacious way to look at it. We are going to give them quite the time in that ring. Allow them their cretinous hopes. It will make the taste of their shock far sweeter. Tell me, how do you feel about them?” Ash frowns as she thinks a moment. “I feel as though these two will show the rest of those who step up and challenge the Left Hand that no matter who steps against us, the smallest curtain jerker to the champion himself will be treated the same.”

“Indeed. It should never matter the what or the who... we come and bring our all each time. They might not see it now, but they will soon enough. Wednesday, we walk in... the overlooked, the unworthy... regardless of how we walk out, nobody will think of us that way again. We are the teachers and they; they will be our most unwilling students.” Ash frowns. “All they care about is winning.” Lycana waves that off. “And I, dear girl. Do not. There is more to things than getting your hand raised.” Lycana pauses a second, giving Ash the time to break in with a burst of emotion. “I am tired of it! Tired of being overlooked. People still look at me as Ash Quinn, the same old one I was before this!” Her voice begins to rise as she pushes on. “No matter what I do, they cannot see the change! They are blind to what I am! I am The Queen of the Ashes!”

“And what are you going to do?” Lycana whispers, just the merest of suggestions, not wanting to distract Ash too much, wanting her to let the rage take her over even more. “I am going to get in the ring, and burn everything to the ground! I’m going to take both of them and light them up, make them sorry they looked past me, sorry that they barely acknowledged me! I’m going to burn them up and leave them scarred and unrecognizable in a heap of rubble!” she pants slightly, her fists clenched at her sides, eyes wide and wild. Her eyebrows arcing up, Lycana sighs with enrapturement. She moves closer and places her hand on Ash’s shoulder. “Together Ash, together we will teach both Corey and R.L. that misjudging us, was a vast error. They will pay in blood, sweat and tears, no matter what.”

_________________________________________________________________

“It is no secret that I like the darkness. The feeling of not knowing your surroundings, not seeing the color of things as they appear, but as they are. Something about the unknown, the quiet, the stillness. There is something unspoken about the dark, something terrifying yet beautiful. Most fear the dark for these very reasons, they cannot see the beauty, only the horror. The things lurk in the dark... the unknown things, predators, those that may wish you harm, even your own demons... give them chills. Those of us that roam with no fear, merely have embraced the unknown, spied the bewitching qualities and found them to please us. We don’t fear our demons, because we have become friends with them.

It is the eve before our time together dearest boys, I hope you are looking forward to it as much as we are. I am patiently counting down the hours until we all step in that ring and see if all this posturing and these promises ring true. Time to see if all the training you two did together pays off for darling R.L. and he can bring it to us. Time to see if you can get me down and keep me down sweet Corey. I won't make it easy for you, either of you. While I might not possess the experience that either of you do, even as sad as that history is for R.L., what I do possess in spades is stubbornness. As many times as you get me to the mat, I will keep coming back for more. Begging you to try and break me, because you never will.

You will never break me.

And R.L., well he doesn’t have what it takes to. Regardless of all that you have taught him. Right now, he's just got the stars in his eyes. He gets to pair up with someone who he admires, who makes him feel more important, who thinks that a couple weeks of training negates a past full of blunders and incompetence. Maybe he's come just up to snuff to where he won't be tripping over his own two feet just getting through the ropes, but as for anything else... its highly doubtful. I'm not even sure how they let him through the door and kept him on beyond anything but a jobber. In any case, it reminds me of another little story.

There was a little boy, in truth he was a little dull perhaps a bit touched in the head, but he didn’t mind, because his hero told him that he could be anything he wanted when he grew up! Cliché, yes? Ah... but he was a naïve and gullible soul. He looked at his idol on the television and was enraptured. He was a god to him, no a KING! He wanted nothing more than to be like him, to be noticed like him, to be revered like him. So, the little boy started to try and act like his idol. He put on airs and tried to sound more intelligent than he actually was, so it just fell flat. He would run around the school yard, trying out his new little gimmick, ignoring the snickers... because hey, the idol said he could be anything.

If he wasn’t acting like his idol, he was talking nonstop about him. The idol said this. The idol did that. The idol said I should so I need to. He would hunt unsuspecting playmates down, hoping to win them over by doing nothing but singing all the virtues of the idol. They would either run off, knock him down and beat him up, or tell him that he sounded like an absolute imbecile. Sometimes he would try and fight back, swinging and not only missing, but falling flat on his own face. He never landed a punch, just learned how to curl up in a ball and take his licks. But still... the little boy pressed on. After all... the idol said he could be anything.

Then came a day where the little boy about lost his mind with exhilaration. The idol was coming to a nearby town to do a meet and greet! He begged his parents to take him, and after much pleading –and to get him to shut the hell up- they relented and agreed to take him. That day dawned, and the little boy got himself all dolled up in his idols merchandise and fairly bounced in the seat of the car all the way there. He waited on the long line, determined to be patient though his wiggling prompted his mother to ask if he needed a ‘potty break’ more than once. As the line snaked along, getting closer and closer, he could barely stand it. And soon... there he was.

His idol! Right in front of his very eyes! He gaped in awe as he stepped up, next in line at last. His idol motioned him forward and he had to force himself to take a step, doing so on such shaky legs he thought for sure he was going to trip and make a fool out of himself. But he made it up to the raised platform, and lo and behold, his idol was there! Extending his hand and helping him up onto it, to share that stage with him! They smiled at each other, exchanged pleasantries, and his idol even told him how proud he was of him, lowering his voice and sharing some advice. He was sure that his idol saw something in him, that he was special, meant more than everyone else in line vying to shower the idol with love.

He walked away, feeling elated... justified. The world was his oyster! He could be anything! He would be exactly like his idol in every way. He wanted to wait around outside and see if he could find his idol, talk to him one more time. His parents agreed, probably because they would get to enjoy some time not listening to the kid chatter on about the idol. They waited in the car and the little boy settled out behind the building determined to wait his idol out. His patience was rewarded as a rather grumpy looking idol walks out the door. He scampers up, only to be met with a frown. He starts to speak, only to be met with laughter. He tells him that he wants to be just like him, to be met with harsher words, telling him to get lost. That he would never amount to what he was.

You see, the idol was nothing more than an egomaniac, who pretended when all lights and cameras were on him, to care about his little followers. When in reality... he didn’t give a shit. They were just there to earn him credibility. This was a hard lesson for the little boy. Just like you are going to learn a hard lesson tomorrow R.L... and I am going to be your teacher this time. Corey spent his time trying to teach you to be a better wrestler, and I will be there to teach you that you are not. That you are still just maladroit. It would be a waste of time to attempt to avoid me. No, I want you to try and take me on for size. That lesson I'm going to teach you, is going to be quite the hands-on approach.

What neither of you seem to be able to grasp, is that you cannot shake me. You cannot bruise my ego. Your words, meant as poisoned darts, fall far short of their target... easily kicked aside as I continue my path. You project your own self, what would perturb you, what would nettle and vex you like nothing else... and think the same goes for me. I attempted to tell you... I spelled it out quite clearly word for word. And still, you grip onto it and shake it, thinking something different might come about. Victory is never assured, nor is it a matter of gross importance within this match, at least to me. My focus is on one thing, and one thing only... and that is leaving my mark on you.

There is only so many times that I can say it, so if you have not accepted it by now, the only thing left is to show it to you. Your understanding of things, is not my issue to address. It merely shows where you are lacking. Points made in subtle nature, fly right over your head, and instead you focus on what you think you know. Evil is ignorance... and you have quite a bit of that. But sadly, that particular arrow of mine flew so far above your head you never even noticed it. Wasted. I suppose that was my own folly, thinking that you were as bright and could see all, like you claimed to. You actually remind me of that simpleton Arcana that seems to irk you so much. You both annoy me.

Why are you bleating at ME about the name SHE chose? Tell her if she finally decides to join XWF. Careful though, that might put you on my side.

She too, is the little goodie goodie, the never do wrong, the golden child who does her best to please, the never sees it coming but thinks she has it all under control. Does that sound familiar Corey? Oh, and her little friend Damien, I assume is alive and well mores the pity. But he, he is her sore spot. The one if I press just right... she loses all that control she holds so dear. You Corey, I will be looking for that. What makes Corey Smith lose control... and while it seems to be that such an obvious fact now: The Left Hand and all (you think) we stand for... there just might be something a little more of a personal nature that really gets you heated.

I will always be watching, always be waiting... just one mistake Corey, and I will have you. Tomorrow and beyond. Even when you think you are all alone, trust it not. I have already slipped my way into your mind. It doesn’t matter how, or what way you think of me. You made this all about me. I am your focus. You went out of your way to try and prove a point to me. And this is exactly what I wanted Corey. You bent to my will without even realizing it. You could have focused much more on Ash, but you hardly gave her a passing thought. Why is that Corey? It is because a well-trained pet knows to come when they are called, even if it is just a small gesture made to them. And come you did.

While you thought you were humiliating me, you made me smile. While you thought you were grinding my name into the dirt, you made me grin. While you thought that you were striking fear into me, you made me laugh. All your efforts, for naught... for one who doesn’t care what you think or do. For one who just had to call your name and make some whispered promises to get into you so thoroughly, that you dedicated that much exertion to try and get to me back, to try and get into mine the way I weaseled into yours. And you still failed in that. Bravo Corey! I will give you a bit of an ovation for your endeavors though, had I but known that rattling you would be this easy, I probably wouldn’t have wasted so much breath on you.

But I'm glad that I did. I’m pleased that you are all riled up and ready to go. I’m ready to dance too Corey, I’ve been waiting for this a long time. You bring your partner, and I’ll bring mine. Oh, we will have to swap here or there, but we all know where my focus is going to be. And that’s you my dearest... I’ll give everyone else a fair shake. But with all this hype you made over me... I certainly hope you keep up that drive for the ring. You're going to need it. Tomorrow night, for however long our match takes, you are going to belong to me.”