The Freeman-Kael Chronicles: The Blood of the Coven is Thicker Than the Water of the Womb

“The strength of a family, like the strength of an army, lies in its loyalty to each other.” - Mario Puzo

…Undisclosed Location…

…days(?) before ReVival 54…

From inside a dimly-lit cavern, a large circle creates something of a curious spotlight illuminating the area further, revealing slightly better traces of the walls and floor as Kenny Freeman, Randall Schwartz, and Max Kael pass through. They take a moment to survey the scene, though the moment does not last long as the circle of light closes behind the trio, leaving them to squint their eyes for a better view.

They slowly make their way around, Kenny and Randall cautiously reaching out to make sure they don’t bump into the wall as Max watches, allowing the pair to lead the way. The process takes some time, but eventually the Masters find that they are able to traverse through what they believe to be an empty cave…until a deep chuckle can be heard faintly echoing against the walls.

“What happens if you shit in the wrong place?” Max asks, oblivious to the chuckle.

“What was that?” asks Randall, his arms starting to develop goosebumps that are barely visible given the lighting conditions. After a moment of silence, we hear the chuckle again, louder this time as the trio realize they are much closer to its source…prompting a more appropriate query from the Entertainer. “Who was that?”

“No clue,” replies Kenny, still trying his best to make out the dark passageway before him. “But I’m really starting to feel like we shouldn’t have made this trip after all. Something about it just gives me all the wrong vibes, man.”

Just up ahead, they can see a solid dot of light. Despite the darkness seemingly having a chokehold on the illumination of this place, this single red light manages to stand out like a beacon of hope…or despair. For as the three men get closer, they start to make out what’s lurking underneath the red glow. A partially-covered mouth, twisted into a sinister smile…at the bottom of a heavily bandaged face.

“Nice to see someone finally find me,” the mouth speaks, sending a chill down the spine of Kenny and Randall. Max, for his part, simply returns the smile back at what they’ve just found…or rather, who they’ve just found. The bandaged figure presses on with another chuckle “Time to go home, then… heh-heh..”

-

…Max’s Office at Training Installation K-67…

…sometime after ReVival 54…

The door to Max’s office bursts open as three men sweep in. Two are wearing Russian army uniforms, distinct from the Red Army uniforms in that they were not, well, red. The third man was a tall, gaunt looking man wearing a black suit and  a sadistic smirk.

Looking up from his desk Max raises a brow.

“Look, fellas, I just got banned on Jabber.” Kael snarls through a sneer, his gold teeth glinting between his lips. “..can I help you with something?

The two soldiers move to either side of Max’s desk while the man in the black suit takes in his surroundings. With a sigh he takes a seat in the chair opposite Max.

“[Speaking honestly, that time has passed. I come on behalf of Polkovnik Nekkshov.]” the black suit man informs Max. Reaching into his pocket, the suited man retrieves a pack of cigarettes and a brass zippo lighter with the Red Star proudly emblazoned upon it.

“Nice lighter! Is it vintage?” Max asks, folding his hands onto his desk. The sneer softens slightly into a flat smile as he stares at the lighter greedily.

“[This? It could be.]” the Suit grunts, holding it up to examine it more carefully before he flicks it open. Using the red flame to set his cigarette ablaze, the Suit takes a long drag, blowing the smoke across the desk toward the Commissar’s face. “[Took it off a retired General when he fell out of a window following a falling out with our illustrious regime.]

The Suit snaps the lighter shut, depositing it back in his pocket  much to Max’s disappointment.

“Gravity seems to be a real problem here in Russia. So what does our dear Colonel Ratimir want with lil’ole Max Kael, hmm?”

A cold chuckle is accompanied by a dry cough as the Suit chokes down some smoke.

“[Funny, American. Boris, explain the situation to the Commissar.]”

Before Max can ask which one is Boris, the soldier to his right grabs the back of the commissar’s head before smashing it into his desk. Kael’s head snaps back up, his eyes watering as a trickle of blood begins to drip from both of his nostrils. The second soldier quickly steps in, holding Max down in his chair by his shoulders.

“[You were supposed to end your pursuit for the PRIME Tag Team Titles. End this farce of a team with that pathetic Kenny Freeman and focus on Colonel Nekkshov’s orders to earn a match with FLAMBERGE and Brandon Freeman.]” the Suit calmly provides his exposition. “[You didn’t and so here we are, the consequences of your decision.]”

Boris cracks his knuckles as he glowers down at Max.

“..as one professional to another, you give me that lighter...” the Red Right Hand of Communism begins, licking away some of the blood flowing over his lips. A coy smile slips over his face as he spits a mixture of vitae and saliva onto the floor.“..and I won’t let my better half deal with this.”

Taking a long drag from his cigarette the Suit stares at the commissar. After a long silence Nekkshov’s messenger shrugs.

“[..I think, instead, my American friend, we teach you a lesson in following orders.]”

The Suit nods to the two soldiers as they clearly prepare themselves to inflict more harm upon Max. The Commissar’s flat smile stretches wider to fully reveal his long, golden teeth as red flashes in his eyes.

“..heh-heh.. I do love a good lesson.”

-

…Outside Max’s Office…

…Twenty Minutes Later…

A disheveled, bloodied Max limps out of his office. There is a deep gash over his right brow, bruises and welts are starting to form on his face and his knuckles are visibly bloodied. He spits an ichor of saliva, blood and mucus onto the floor.

“..what the fuck..”

Narrowing his eyes Max noticed something glimmering in the brownish red puddle. Reaching down he retrieves a small, sharp golden canine tooth. Opening his mouth wide his tongue wriggles across his golden teeth only to discover the vacancy, now naught but a bloody hole.

“Motherfuckers. Still…”

He holds up the Suit’s brass Soviet lighter, a dumb grin pulled across his face.

-

…Training Facility K-67…

…Sometime before ReVival 55…

Stalking toward the ring limps Commissar Maximillian Wilhelm Kael in his crimson Red Army uniform. A fresh, new medal representing Hawaiian BBQ sits proudly along with his other accolades.

“Clear the ring, rats! Everyone save for MAH BOI Kenny Freeman.” Kael barks gingerly climbing into the ring.

The ring clears save for Freeman as commanded. The Commissar uses the ropes to shamble to a corner. His eyes find Kenny, a bright golden smile, minus one tooth, flashes toward Kenny.

He chuckles, “Following Trainer Oleggson’s tragic passing I requested a new trainer. One of Moscow’s newest and brightest.”

Enter player two wearing a simplistic black and red mask. He’s lanky, a little taller than Kenny but not nearly as thickly built.

“The Crimson Guardian, personally selected for you by me. We’re up against Anna Daniels, a Timelord who potentially has centuries of fighting experience and Rob Williams, a brute who's managed a victory of Cecilworth Farthington.” he continues, a particular stank put on his former best friend’s name. “You’ve come so far but now you must show me what you’ve learned..heh-heh.”

Snapping his fingers at the Crimson Guardian, Max points his other hand at Kenny. Like an attack dog, the Guardian charges Kenny, screaming with fury beneath that black and red mask. Kenny is quick to dodge the initial attack, wringing the arm of the Guardian as he takes the figure down to the floor.

To his surprise, however, Kenny finds the Guardian already getting back to a vertical base…something Freeman is quick to bring to a screeching halt as he sweeps the masked man’s legs out from underneath him. He follows up with some hard kicks to the midsection, staring his foe down all the while.

A sudden urge of remorse envelops him, distracting him long enough for the figure to respond with a leg sweep of his own. Kenny falls to the floor beside his foe, who mounts up on him with some punches…but not for long, as Freeman catches him with a swift kick in the--well, you can imagine.

A deep grunt escapes the mouth of the Guardian as he drops back down, favoring the target of Kenny’s sneak attack. The junior member of the Red Army slowly gets back on his feet, grabbing the arms of the fallen man below him as he looks to Max for some level of guidance.

Winking, or perhaps blinking out of sync, Max cheerfully exclaims, “Finish him!”

Kenny stares at him a little longer, eventually nodding in acknowledgement as he begins stomping away at the head and neck of the Crimson Guardian. The stomps get harder and harder, a pointed kick in the shoulder drawing blood that slowly seeps through the uniform. At first, the masked man takes the abuse silently, struggling to break free of Kenny’s grasp before letting out a muffled grunt here and there…and finally, we hear him speak.

“K-k-ke…Kenny,” the figure utters, surprising Freeman. “Please…stop.”

Kenny lets go of the Guardian’s arms, dropping him with a thud to the floor. He looks to Max, who gives a cruel, knowing smile. Freeman reaches over to pull off the mask.

It’s Jack, battered and bruised.

By Kenny’s own hands.

Just like Papa Freeman.

“What…what did you do?” Kenny asks, shouting at Max as he drops the Guardian mask. “What did you do!?”

-

…A terrible place…

…Several weeks ago…

..drip.

Jack’s eyes flitter as the cold water drips down onto the top of his head.

..drip.

He doesn’t remember how long it’s been. Hours? Days? Months?

..drip.

Time had no meaning under the purposeful cruelty of his vindictive host.

..drip.

“Jack, my lad. I think we’ve had a time.. Heh-heh..” the voice of his torturer cheerfully sang. Mercifully the dripping water ceases as the Commissar of the Red Army tightens a valve somewhere in this cold, dark room.

The younger brother of Kenny Freeman looks terrible as blood oozes from dozens of small cuts. His swollen face carries the trauma of Max's jabber promises.

“Imagine, Jackie, if Kenny had never been so blinded with attaining gold and chasing success, you’d never have ended up in my hands. You’d still be stuffing your face in front of the boob tube..” Max hisses as he begins to loosen the straps on Jack’s wrists.

The blood in his veins cries out for revenge against this ghoulish monster.

..but he’s got to wait. Unlike his brother, he’s not blinded by his desire. He knows he’s only got enough in him for one attempt. He rolls his eyes toward his tormentor and glares.

“..what a droll existence. Boring.”

Flashing a golden smile at Jack, Max begins removing the shackles locked from Freeman’s ankles.

“And poor Mama Freeman!” Max says before clicking his tongue disapprovingly. “Breaks the heart, really.”

Tossing the shackles aside, Max rises to look down at Jack.

“..f..f..u..” Jack tries to speak but the words get caught up in a bloody cough.

The monster leans down, eager to hear his victim.

Now was his chance.

With a heroic effort Jack lurches forward, murderous intent burning in his eyes. With speed and strength he never knew he possessed, Max is caught off guard. His hands wrap around Max’s check while he throws his weight into the attack.

Sadly for Jack, violence is instinctual for the Commissar. Kael breaks Jack’s grip around his neck before firing a Mongolian Chop across the young man’s own throat.

Gasping for breath, the youngest Freeman collapses. The fires are quickly snuffed out as Jack gives up.

“All your hate and rage.. And that was the best you could do? That was your last stand? The finale, heroic effort? Heh-heh.. You’re more like your brother than you know..”

Jack doesn’t listen, he focuses on the cold concrete floor.. He closes his eyes tightly and begs for the darkness to consume him. .

He wants it all to end.

Then he feels a hand on the back of his head. He shudders involuntarily awaiting the worst..

To his shock the hand gently caresses his head, fondling his hair. It’s the first kind touch he’s felt since he arrived in Russia.

“I know how you feel, Jack. I can help you get what you want. Revenge against the person who put this all into motion.” Kael whispers to Jack.

The void calls to Jack but Max’s offer gives him pause. Opening his eyes, Jack looks up at Max.

“..h..how?”

..heh-heh..

-

Max lets a low chortle slip past his lips as he looks down at the beaten and bloodied Jack.

“I turned that burning spit of hatred young Jack here had and weaponized it against you, his own brother. It wasn’t hard, took about a week.” Kael admits, his chin held high with pride. “I elevated an otherwise purposeless young man like Jack to challenge you. I turn your own family against you to prove how fickle and meaningless the blood is. We.. your chosen family, are your true family. We’d never turn on you.”

Max seems thoughtful for a moment.

“So long as you continue to deliver success.”

Kenny just stares at his tag partner, a look of shock slowly fading into rage as he stomps toward Kael.

“How dare you!” Kenny exclaims, grabbing Max by his collar with both hands. “I don’t know how you convinced Ivan to bring my family here in the first place, but this? This is crossing the damn line, Max!”

“Crossing the line?” the Commissar snarls at Freeman. “Crossing the line?! What the fuck do you think the we do, Kenny!? We’re the Red Army, we’re a group that idolizes the Soviet Union, bruh! You say I’ve crossed the line!? Ha-HA!”

He spits a sadistic laugh into Kenny’s face.

“Kenny, you crossed the line when you joined the Red Army. You.. YOU decided to take this path, Comrade Freeman. You decided there was nothing you weren’t willing to do, whatever it took to win these Tag Team Titles here in PRIME. YOU.” his lip curling up as he glowers at Freeman. “So here we are, at the consequences of your actions.”

Kenny lets go of the Commissar’s collar, thinking long and hard about what he’s just said. He thinks back to his very first moments in PRIME, trying to do silly things like sell food processors and raise money for a cause he had no right in supporting…how it all led nowhere, his wheels spinning in the mud at every turn. That is, until the Red Army came along.

“I…I…” Kenny stammers, uncertain whether to admit that Kael is right or fight back…eventually choosing neither road, instead running off with a yelp of anger.

Max smooths out his uniform as he watches Kenny charge off. The sneer on his face settles into a smug grin as his eyes turn back down to Jack.

“..I think we’ve made a breakthrough, don’t you? Heh-heh..”

Jack closes his eyes to a sound he has become painfully familiar with.

The horrid laugh of Max Kael.

-

CLASSIFICATION: CLASSIFIED

DATE: 29th August 2024

MEMORANDUM FOR:  Starshy Praporshchik Ivan Stanislav

SUBJECT: Must. Win.

Comrade Ivan Stanislav,

I hope you are doing well following the nefarious actions of one Cancer Jiles. Cancer Jiles denied me the opportunity to murder Cecilworth Farthington at War Games, I understand how you feel. Together, you and I, shall indulge in that sweetest of low fat desserts. REVENGE.

But in time, comrade.

I regret to inform you that three of Colonel Nekkshov’s goons stopped by the other day. They’ve been taken care of but I should expect that Ratimir will not take this lightly. I’m fine and was given the opportunity to utilize our excellent dental program.

On the matter of Kenny Freeman. Reality has been laid bare before him and I trust that he’ll be strong enough to do what is necessary. He understands, now, what the Red Army is and what is expected of him. His family has played their role well, their collective suffering, honed into a scalpel with which to reshape Kenny into something.. Tragic and beautiful.

Uplifted, as only I could do.

And we shall unleash this new Kenny Freeman upon Daniels and Williams or as they have decided to be called..(Okay, imagine I’m sighing right now, because I’m sighing as I write this.)

Fuck Your Tag Team.

I know, I know. But it’s a must win situation, right? Can’t take these two idiots that lightly. I mean they kinda crucified Don Winters. Williams managed to defeat Cecilworth Farthington for the Five Star Championship. I’m pretty sure they’re both nuttier than an L.A. casting couch.

As ever, I do believe in Kenny Freeman. I believe in us, the Masters of the Multiverse.

For the Motherland,

Commissar Maximillian Wilhelm Kael

-

…K-67 Locker Room…

…Sometime before ReVival 55…

The door to the locker room swings open as an irate Kenny Freeman makes a beeline for the locker with his name on it, passing by a confused Randall Schwartz in the process. Kenny raises his hands, balling them into fists before striking his locker door with a sudden crash.

“Damn it!” he shouts, letting out more of his frustration than normal as he plops himself down on the nearby bench. It is at this point he finally notices a now-concerned Randall staring at him, which only infuriates Freeman further. “Don’t look at me like that, man.”

“What’s wrong?” asks Randall, getting up to sit closer to his friend. “I heard all the hootin’ and hollerin’ out there, what’s goin’ on with you and Max?”

“He’s got my brother into some sorta…scheme, I think,” Kenny replies, still trying to wrap his mind around precisely what Kael did to Jack. “He says it’s to help me be more prepared, but…”

His voice trails off, thinking about the beatdown he laid upon his own flesh and blood.

“He tricked me, Randall. He’s got me fighting my own family, just to prove I’m worthy of being what the Red Army wants me to be.”

Randall goes deathly quiet as he thinks about what Kenny has told him. Processing the information somewhere deep inside that always thinking mind of his, trying to settle on some words of comfort and encouragement to give his friend in time of need.

“So the usual, then,” he finally replies, all that information disappearing like dust in the wind. “You haven’t exactly been on the best of terms with Jack the past few months, have ya? Hell, you barely told me much about your family in all the time we’ve been traveling together. Why care now?”

Kenny is taken aback by the response, glaring at the Entertainer who simply shrugs.

“Because family is family, Randall,” Kenny states. “Jack is my brother. We’ve had some disagreements before, but nothing I’d fight him over.”

“Well, with all due respect…maybe that’s the problem,” Randall replies. “You’ve always been one to find peaceful solutions to conflict, but in case you haven’t noticed…that doesn’t seem to fly these days, bud. Not around here, and not in PRIME for that matter. Look at who you and Max are facing in Vancouver. You have a chance to redeem your loss to Anna Daniels, sink the burning ship that is Rob Williams, and make sure that the two of you advance to the finals of the tag league at UltraViolence. Doesn’t that mean something to you?”

Kenny continues to stare at Randall, shocked by just how profound his statement is. Eventually, however, Freeman shakes his head slowly in response.

“I dunno, man…this shit with my family has really gotten under my skin, but setting that aside I think you might be right.”

Kenny looks up at the locker room ceiling, letting out a heavy sigh.

“All I know is, there’s been far too much toothpaste coming out of this bottle. We can’t put it back when this tournament is done…I can’t go back to the way things were. There’s been far too much damage done.”

Randall slowly nods in agreement, rising up from the bench.

“Still,” he says as he offers a hand to his pal. “Whatever we can set right after this, I’ll be happy to help ya with. Deal?”

Kenny gives a faint smile as he shakes Randall’s hand.

“Deal.”