Hole In the World

Excerpt from “The Colton Family, Reexamined” by Tanner Quest:

“After her Belmont Classic win, followed by two years of domination in MVW, Jennifer Colton was primed to be a breakout star on the level of her oldest brother. Signing with Bang! Pro Wrestling, while sudden, seemed a logical step.”

“The transition proved a greater challenge than she expected. Jennifer quickly got lost in the shuffle, suffering some bad losses early and losing the momentum she’d built. By the middle of the year, she was frequently left off shows entirely. (There are rumors of a falling out with Taskmaster Inoue Doi over Colton’s personal conduct; it is not our place nor inclination to speculate.)”

“Despite being under contract, she was listed as a ‘surprise entrant’ in the Terminus Complex. That event, along with joining the Ironhearts stable, provided the only bright spots for Colton in 2025. Yet despite her TC-X performance, she remained an afterthought for the rest of her time in the promotion.”

“It’s said that struggle reveals who you are, and it has not painted a flattering picture of Jennifer Colton. Her run through the Belmont Classic, legendary at the time, now seems to be a case of catching lightning in a bottle. Her MVW record of 59-6-1, while impressive, was a case of feasting on inferior talent and a lucky win over her only credible opponent, Daryn Thompson. Once she joined a bigger pond, she learned she was a very small fish indeed–and was immediately swallowed.”

# # #

June 22, 2026 Las Vegas, Nevada. PRIME Headquarters.

Two men occupied the promo booth. A pair whose only commonality was the company that employed them.

Feinmann–he presumably had a first name but never let anyone use it–was PRIME’s lead director. He was a sour man with a ponytail he should have abandoned fifteen years ago, and his communication style walked a thin line between sharp criticism and verbal abuse.

“In your own time, Mr. Colton,” he said, with the clear suggestion that Colton’s “own time” should hurry the fuck up.

Nate Colton nodded absentmindedly while he continued to organize his thoughts.

So many thoughts.

All caroming against the edges of his mind, ever since ReVival 89.

Thoughts about Max Kael. Sutler. Jennifer.

Over time, and with help, thoughts congealed into words.

So many words.

Page after page of notes, filled with them.

Nate Colton leafed through the pile of words, desperately searching for the right ones.

“Whenever you’re ready, Mr. Colton,” Feinmann said, a little more acid in his voice.

“Right. Sorry.”

Colton leafed through his notes again, then pulled out one sheet and placed it on the top.

“Finally,” Feinmann grumbled, mostly under his breath. “Take One.”

# # #

June 13, 2026. Evansville, Indiana. The Colton Academy.

While Jennifer Colton returned to the open arms of her relieved parents, Nate Colton steeled himself for the battle ahead, where he’d be connected by a length of chain to a man utterly lacking in honor, morals, or limits to his depravity.

Hardly seemed fair. But when was it ever?

Sprint!

Nate went all out on the air bike, pumping his arms and legs as fast as he could, causing the machine to work that much harder against him. It was the first new machine he bought for the Academy, after falling in love with them at TCS in Las Vegas.

Rest!

Better for endurance than the Academy’s old bikes. Also, not as prone to falling apart because it wasn’t fifteen years old.

Sprint!

Arms, pumping.

Legs, pressing.

Lungs, burning.

The harder he pushed against it, the harder it resisted.

As by design, of course.

Rest.

Just as his exercise wound down, a pair of feet shuffled up to him. Two pairs, actually, though one pair was the rubber feet that capped the end of crutches. It was Frank Mazurskiewicz, his father’s old scout friend, with a folder tucked under one arm.

“Nate,” the old-timer said. “Figure you’d still be at the house, talking to your sister.”

“Not yet. We’re doing that at my place in Vegas at the end of the week.”

Frank chuckled. “She’s clever. You’re less likely to yell at her with your ladyfriend around.”

“The hell makes you think it was her idea?”

“Because if it were up to you, it would have happened as soon as possible. Am I wrong?”

…Fuck

“Here’s that report you asked for. I can tell you right now, that’s not the kind of endurance you need to work on.” Frank steadied himself on one crutch, then used the other hand to present the folder.

“Yeah, I know. He’s a real piece of work,” Nate said, taking the file and leafing through it.

“He’s a fucking monster, Nathan. Worse than anything you’ve ever seen…and just about everything I’ve ever seen. And he suckered you into playing his game.”

He’d been in the middle of flipping through the pages when Frank’s words made him stop. “What’s that supposed to mean? You saw his face; he had no fuckin’ idea any better than I did.”

Frank sighed; if he weren’t leaning so heavily on his crutches he probably would have facepalmed too. “Nathan, I don’t know if you’ve heard about this new thing called ‘lying’...”

“You’re saying this is all part of his plan.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him. This, or anything else.”

Nate went back to flipping through the scouting report, pausing occasionally and always regretting it. Every sin that Max had committed on camera was detailed; the least of them was enough to turn his stomach.

None of them truly came as a surprise.

I’ll have to read this later

At noon

With all the lights on

Nate snapped the folder shut and set it on the bike’s seat. “Any suggestions?” Nate asked. Frank’s slight physique and twisted frame belied a sharp, analytical mind that was uniquely tuned to their shared profession.

“First, try to get out of the contract. I could–”

“No.”

“Yeah, I figured. You’re Jake’s boy, after all. The only other thing I can say is, this won’t be about just beating Max in a wrestling match. You want to stop him, you’ll need to put him down…but he’s basically a slasher villain. He’ll keep coming back unless you hit him with something he’s not expecting.”

“Such as…?”

“That’s the bad news. Most guys at your level don’t have lines left to cross, but Max was born on the other side of the line.”

“There better be some good news coming, Frank.”

“Arrogance. There’s no place he won’t go to get what he wants…but people who do that never, ever expect you to follow them. From there, you look in his blind spots. Find what he threw away a long time ago. That’s where you’ll find the edge.”

Colton nodded. The scout’s words brought no comfort, but the truth was rarely comfortable. It was, however, something he’d already accepted…when his sister was still missing.

When he thought–he was sure–that Max Kael was responsible.

I had no problems coming after him with a sledgehammer back then

Why am I hesitating now?

Am I only allowed to protect other people? Not myself?

Just one more thing Frank gave him to think about, along with everything else.

“Thanks, Mr. Maz–”

“How many times, Nate? ‘Frank’ is fine.”

“Thanks, Frank. Let me go stash this in Dad’s office; I’ve got work to do.”

Mazurskiewicz nodded and departed for the ring, the scrape of his shoes and clunk of his crutches quickly swallowed by the rest of the noise. Nate scooped up the report and headed for the back of the gym.

The heavy footfalls on the treadmill, the clanging of weights, the heavy pounding of boot against body, body against canvas…it all reminded Nate of something.

A song.

One that stuck itself in its head a while ago; an earworm he left on repeat for the better part of a year.

How did it go again?

Ah, yes.

THWACK!

THWACK!

THWACK!

THUD!

That was it.

# # #

Gotta admit, Max. You had me snowed for a while there.

The look on your face when Jenny and Sutler showed up at the arena…I actually thought it was genuine surprise. I bet I had the same look on my own face, ‘cause I sure as hell didn’t expect that.

Was that your plan all along? Piss me off so bad that I’d agree to anything, then pull the switch on me? Make it so I wouldn’t want this fight anymore?

Fat fuckin’ chance.

‘Cause even if you weren’t involved, that doesn’t excuse all the other shit you actually did. Show me any person who’s had to deal with you since you showed up in PRIME, and I’ll show you someone who deserved better. And that includes the Red Army.

…

Most of ‘em.

You’re a sickness, Max. You’ve infected this place and the people in it for far too long. You’re the poison running through its bloodstream, pumped in and out by a shriveled, tainted heart.

I’m the cure.

And once they lock on that collar, and you can’t use your slippery little fucker powers to get away, I’m going to make you pay for everything you’ve done, or will do if I don’t stop you.

Don’t believe me? Don’t fear me?

Don’t care.

I just want you to know what’s going to happen when you get to Philadelphia. I want to know in your pitiful excuse for a heart exactly what you’re walking into, and there’s not a goddamn–

“Cut!”

Feinmann’s voice cut through the air, breaking the spell Nate Colton had placed upon himself. He looked up and saw the old taskmaster’s face displaying the textbook definition of annoyance.

“It helps if you read the words out loud,” Feimann said, just in case he hadn’t gotten his point across.

“Sorry,” Nate answered. “I’m still trying to work out what I want to say.”

He looked again at the words on the page, shaking his head. He meant these things a week ago, when he wrote them. But last week was a hundred years ago.

“Hmm. Next time, figure that out before you come in here and waste everyone’s time.”

Colton nodded, briefly glancing at the larger crowd outside the window. He selected another sheet and started reading.

“OK, I think this is the one.”

Feinmann, thankfully, kept his opinion to himself. “Take two.”

# # #

June 19, 2026. Las Vegas, NV. The Colton/Mori Residence.

Nate walked out of the kitchen with two coffee mugs, because outrage is no excuse to refuse hospitality.

He set one down on the table in front of an occupied chair, then seated himself on the other side of the table.

“Thanks,” Jennifer said. “Nice digs.”

“Shame you couldn’t be here for the housewarming,” Nate said. His teeth were clenched slightly, just to make sure he didn’t start yelling.

Frank fuckin’ called it there

“First of all…” he said, letting the words hang in the air for a moment. Like a cloud, or a bird…or a blade. “...I’m glad you’re safe.”

“Jesus, you’re as bad as Mom,” she muttered.

“Don’t.”

The word was delivered at a whisper, but with the weight of a scream.

“Can you…just explain it to me, please? Make it make sense.”

“OK…well, I was still really fucked up after Japan and then the Belmont and the Big Dummy Dance–thanks for not making me wear the clown suit for this, by the way.”

“I can’t find it. I think Dad finally found and burned the damn thing.”

Besides, the whole point is to wait until after you’re already forgiven; if everyone understood that then it wouldn’t have all gone sideways when–

“And then that fucking article…God, that alone was enough to fuck up the vibes. I could barely get work outside Dad’s fed, you all were hovering constantly, all my friends were blowing me off…it was too much. That’s when I started talking to Sutler.”

Nate’s hand tensed around his mug. The coffee’s heat threatened to burn his fingers, but it helped him hold his temper when she brought up.

“We matched on the apps, and he was so nice and sweet and oh my God so hot, did you see him in that suit in New York?”

“You can skip that part.”

“OK, but Benny agrees with me.”

“Not exactly a mark in your favor.”

“Whatever. So we’re hitting it off and we met up a few times and it was incredible and then…yeah. Bahamas.”

“For two months.”

“It was only supposed to be a week! But we weren’t ready to come back yet–that guy’s family is, like, super fucked up.”

“I’m aware.”

“So we extended by a week, then another…before we knew it, it had been…yeah. Two months.”

“I see.” He paused to inhale; at some point he’d slipped into box breathing and didn’t realize it. “And you didn’t think to call anyone.”

“I wanted to! But the trip came together so fast; we were practically on the plane before I even thought about it.”

“You could have called after you landed.”

“We were…busy.”

Breathe in.

Hold.

Breathe out.

“You can skip that part too.”

“I was gonna call after that, but then we went out on a yacht and…look, if you got anything from me, it was actually an octopus.”

Breathe in.

ARE YOU FUCKING WITH ME RIGHT NOW

Hold.

CAN YOU PLEASE TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY FOR TEN GODDAMN SECONDS

Breathe out.

“Anyway. We came back, we decided to take in the show…”

“Yes, I was there for that.”

“And saw you and Sutler’s dumbfuck dad agreeing to a Dog Collar Match! Are you crazy?”

Breathe in.

DON’T PUT THIS ON ME JENNIFER

Hold.

THIS WHOLE THING IS YOUR FUCKING FAULT

“Well. Let me explain what I’ve been through while you were gone.”

“I know, Mom and Dad told me all–”

“Shut up.”

The delivery. The weight.

The same as before.

“I’d barely been cleared to return when Kael started taking shots at me. At us. The next thing I know, you fell off the face of the earth and Max–the guy who steals people like they’re gas station candy–comes at me even harder. What the fuck was I supposed to think?!”

“Not fucking kidnapped, ya dingus. That doesn’t happen to normal people.”

“It happened to me! Twice!”

“One of those was Rezin, that doesn’t count.”

“THAT AIN’T–”

Breathe in.

Hold.

Hold.

Hold.

Breathe out.

“That ain’t the point,” he hissed. “I thought he took you, because that’s what he fucking does. I was scared out of my goddamn mind–we all were! That’s why I brought in the others for some Hoosier Business, and then I signed on for that match…just in time for you to come back and make me look like the world’s biggest idiot. And that was my summer vacation. Signing on for a bloodbath so you could work on your tan with your fucking boy toy.”

Jennifer’s lip curled into a sneer. “Okay, shut up about my dating life, Mr. I-Can’t-Get-Over-My-Ex.”

“Okay, fuck you. You have never missed a chance to give me shit for Skye, so maybe you can cut the fucking attitude. And don’t you dare make this about me. I’m in this because you can’t clean up your messes, and this is hardly the first time.”

“I have NEVER asked you to do that!”

“I know! But someone has to, and if I waited for you to do it, I’d still be waiting.”

Nate was oddly proud of himself for not shouting. Shame he couldn’t control his words as well as his volume…but that was the thing about fights with his sister. They’d never simmer down on their own; they had to boil over first.

“Well, don’t let me keep you from your busy schedule!” Jenny shouted, clearly not bound to the same volume restrictions as her brother. “God, you always want to control everything! Would you just let me live my life? Would you let me fucking breathe?!”

Breathe in–

No. It’s too late for that

This was only going to end one way

Might as well get it over with

“Fine.”

“Good!” Jennifer stood up, but her brother did not.

“Next time you need help–and there will be a next time–don’t call me.”

“I won’t!” she yelled, her eyes still full of anger.

But somewhere in the middle, a splinter of something else.

He felt it, too.

Fear? Sorrow? He couldn’t tell. But it was a bitter pill inside a glob of peanut butter, like they gave their dog when he needed medicine. Necessary…but it still made you feel sick.

She grabbed the now-empty mug from the table and cocked back her arm, taking aim at a bare wall.

“That’s ‘Hime’s favorite,” he said with an eerie calmness, and held up his own mug.

Jennifer snarled again, but made the switch.

CRASH!

That was my favorite

“Have fun on your fuckin’ high horse,” she said, heading straight for the door. As she stepped through, she closed it with a slam stronger than any he’d witnessed since Jennifer was in junior high.

Nate put his hands over his eyes for a moment, as the dam broke and all the thoughts he’d been holding back came flooding in.

She’ll be okay, right?

Like, we’ll get past this someday

Won’t we?

God, why didn’t I Red Light her?

Did I want this?

Is this who I am now?

Is this who I want to be?

When he’d recovered, Nate walked to where the broken mug had landed, and started picking up the pieces. Just like he always did.

Hardly seemed fair.

But when was it ever?

# # #

Max.

You’ve had a lot to say about family…but I don’t think you understand the idea, any more than you understand love.

I dunno if I can really explain it to you, either. I think of family the same way a fish thinks of water.

But I’ll try.

Family…ain’t about possession. It’s about obligation.

It’s about promising to put other people first, and doing everything you can for their benefit. I made that promise years ago, and I have lived it every day since.

I know you won’t understand that. I doubt you’ve ever done a single thing to benefit someone not named Max Kael.

So I’m a little confused why you haven’t tried backing out yet. ‘Cause there’s nothing good waiting for you in Philadelphia.

Me? I don’t have a choice. I will walk down that ramp, put the collar on, and make you eat every single link in the chain that connects us.

Not for Jennifer’s safety. Not for revenge.

Because I said I would.

And if you’ve paid any attention to me at all, you’d know…I’m a man who keeps–

Nate could practically taste the ash on his tongue as he read the words. Ash, still warm but utterly devoid of fire.

That’s what lies taste like

“It’s no good,” he whispered.

Feinmann’s acerbic tone pierced the air again. “Wow, the mic almost caught that. CUT!”

Nate gathered his notes and went for the door. “Sorry I wasted your time, Mr. Feinmann.”

But it seemed the director had forgotten him already. “FIELDING! Get in here; we’ve got a schedule to keep!”

Nate gave an apologetic glance to the put-upon voice of PRIME’s commercials as they passed each other, just outside the door. The rest of the mob outside was already mid-scatter by the time the door closed.

With all eyes off him again, Nate Colton walked quickly toward the exit, dumping his notes into a nearby trash can.

Any passing staff member could easily pull them out and read his words…but they’d never see the right words.

Those were never in there.

# # #

The words Nate Colton thought to say, far too late to matter.

“You can not kill me or destroy me in any way that matters, Colton.”

That’s been bouncing around in my head for days.

More than what you said. How you said it.

Like you’ve been through this all before.

Hell, you probably have. If half the stories are even half-true…

How the hell do you show someone like that something they’ve never seen?

But that’s the other thing that I can’t stop thinking about. Something Frank Mazurs…

Mazer…

That scout Dad knows. Something he said.

“You look in his blind spot.”

That’s when it hit me.

You’re wrong, Max.

I have a weapon. The perfect weapon.

You’ve never seen it. Never felt it. You won’t know what it is, even when I bring it to bear.

I can use it to cut you down. Destroy you in a way that means more than blood, or pain, or even death.

I could end you once and for all, Max.

But Lord help me…

…I don’t think I’m strong enough.

# # #

“But who prays for Satan? Who in eighteen centuries has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most?”

-Mark Twain