ARC CENTER, VALPARAISO, IN
11:13 PM LOCAL TIME
Wendy Briese had just done one of the very things she was certain that she'd never do in her life: willingly leave with Victor Mandrake to go to his castle. The same castle that, during her last visit, she was a tortured prisoner for two weeks.
Funny how things had a way of working themselves out.
Victor brushed past Wendy and opened the passenger side door of his black Cadillac CTS for Wendy.
"I'm sure you'll find this more accommodating than the trunk," he sneered.
"Thank you," Wendy said coldly as she sat down inside the car. "What a gentleman."
"One does what one can," Victor said with a smirk as he shut the door. He hopped in the driver's side and started the car. "If you have to go to the bathroom, I'd suggest going now, as I can't guarantee when the next rest stop will be."
"I'm fine, although you should have mentioned that BEFORE we got in the car." Wendy stared straight ahead out the window. "I can't believe I'm doing this..."
"Why not?" Victor asked, backing up out of the parking space. "You're doing nothing more than any other member of our profession would by spending quality training time with your tag team partner."
"Most members of our profession haven't partnered with someone who's spent the last six years coming up with ways to make their lives a living hell."
"Don't flatter yourself, my dear," Victor said. "This 'living hell', as you've so eloquently put it, was enacted as soon as I saw your idiotic manager on the TV bumbling away about how big his ego is."
"So let me get this straight," Wendy said, anger already starting to rise in here. "Pollaski gets a job with the alliance as a columnist, and you concoct this plan to wreck my life, nearly ruin my marriage, and drag me back into professional wrestling?"
"No, my plan was formed back in November when Rick died," Victor said flatly. "I just didn't know how to find you to execute my plans until Daniel showed up. My intention was only to make sure you properly atoned for what you did to him. The fact that it's nearly ruined your life is of no fault of mine, and quite frankly, is a little melodramatic."
"Properly atoned?" Wendy scoffed. "Has it ever occured to you, Victor, that I am in no way accountable to you for my sins? Any atoning I need to do... it certainly isn't going to be through you."
"I couldn't agree more," Victor said. "You don't owe me anything. You never have. You owe it to Rick. Don't think of me as a vessel through which you can achieve his forgiveness, rather, think of me as a catalyst through which the process of mourning, acceptance, and forgiveness can begin."
"So, of course, there's nothing in it for you..." Wendy scoffed again.
"Well I never said that," he pointed out. "I potentially get to be half of the World Tag Team Champions, and other than being able to catch up with a dear old friend of mine who's presence will be gracing my castle once more, I also have the opportunity to impart some of my wisdom onto you."
"So basically, I've left my family for a weeklong indoctrination session?"
"You say it like it's a bad thing."
"I don't know much about your beliefs," Wendy confessed. "But what I do know is that you find torturing girls in dungeons acceptable. You view murder as an appropriate method. You hate the God I believe in, and I'm not entirely sure I want to hear the rest of your twisted ideals."
Victor sighed. "All of my 'crimes', as you would like to call them, all have a purpose. They're always a means to an end. I'll admit that they usually have selfish motives, but at least they're honest. You see, I don't think we're too different at all when you dissect our beliefs and moral systems. You believe in justice and the greater good, and so do I. We just have different methodologies and tactics in how we go about ascertaining them. The main thing is that I recognize the hypocrisy that stems from society's law and the laws of God whereas you seem to either be blind to them, ignorant, or both."
"I am neither," Wendy replied. "I know our society has flaws in it. No human society can ever be perfect. But I also believe what we have right now is a heck of a lot better than anything else that's been tried."
"Really?" Victor asked incredulously. "You honestly believe that our system of laws and regulations are better than anything else that's been tried? You think people like rapists, child abusers or murderers receive justice when they get a short jail sentence are are set back loose on the unsuspecting public? You think it's fair when they receive anything less than a public execution?"
"Of course not!" Wendy snapped. "Obviously, there are those amongst us who's evil cannot be rehabilitated, and they must be removed from society, whether by lifetime imprisonment or... more drastic measures." She shot Victor a meaningful glance. "And penalties are too lax in some cases. But our police and court systems are set up so that when we put someone away, we make sure its the right person. And if executions are required, they're done quickly and humanely, and not turned into a lavish spectacle of bloody brutality."
"You believe that those subhuman parasites deserve quick and humane deaths? Wouldn't it be more fair for the weight of their punishment to equal the weight of their crimes and the effect it has upon those who were victimized by it? You don't think a child molester being castrated and torn to pieces in full view of the public would make that next disgusting pig think twice?"
"Anyone who harms a child like that deserves to die," Wendy said. "But would society today really view a public execution as a morality lesson? Or would it just serve to satiate the human desire for blood and violence? It's a dangerous line to walk."
"I think the better question is, would society today get behind the concept of an instant death sentence for a crime of that magnitude?" Victor retorted. "We're obviously on the same page when it comes to that, but do you think everyone else is?"
"First of all, by 'instant', I hope you mean after a fair trial. And honestly, I don't know."
"'Fair' being a relative term given today's judicial system, but yes," he answered. "And I can tell you that everyone else isn't on the same page. If they were, we wouldn't be having this discussion. So the question becomes, what are you going to do about it? If you feel strongly about this, what kind of statement are you going to make? Or are you going to choose to remain apathetic and complacent, settling for 'good enough'?"
"Never complacent, but whatever changes need to be made must be done in the system. Its a hard, slow process, but the alternative, revolution, can be much worse."
"True, or it can be exactly what we need," Victor said. "You see Wendy, like I said, we're not so different after all once you get to our root, core beliefs. You may think my methods are too severe and I think yours aren't severe enough, but that doesn't mean we don't believe or desire the same things in life. That's what you need to realize in order to trust that we're working towards the same goals here and that any ulterior motives I may have are only to get you to understand my point of view and perhaps get you to think differently about how you view not only our profession, but the world as a whole."
"That's so sweet of you, Victor," Wendy said, rolling her eyes. "I didn't know that all this was just you trying to make me into a better person."
"Make all the facetious comments you wish, but at the end of the week, you may find yourself to be just that."
Wendy snorted. "So, what's the itinerary? Just seven straight days of you feeding me malarkey that every single horrible thing you've ever done is really for the good of all mankind?"
"With actual wrestling dispersed in between, yes," Victor deadpanned.
Wendy paused, and looked out the window for a long while, then finally sighed. "You know... I hate to admit it, but aside from Terry, ability-wise, you're about the best tag partner a girl could hope for."
This time, it was Victor's turn to snort. "And why's that? Because I'm so big and scary?"
Wendy actually laughed, and shook her head. "No... well... yes. I mean, you know how to use your size to maximum advantage. But... you're extremely talented, Victor. You don't win three world championships on size alone."
"Well thank you, my dear," Victor said genuinely. "And for the record, had you kept at it, your name would be right alongside Misty Xiao's as the only women World Champions in the alliance's history."
Wendy stared, surprised at both the compliment, and Victor's mention of Misty, considering he was the one she had defeated to gain the championship. "Thank you," she finally said earnestly. "Although I wouldn't have needed six people to do it."
"Nor do I think you would've accepted the help," Victor pointed out.
"No, I wouldn't," Wendy said fiercely. "I tend to not look favorably on interference in my matches," she said, giving Victor a dirty look.
Mandrake flashed an all-knowing grin. "Indeed."
Wendy held her glare for several seconds, and finally looked away. She stared out the window, lost in her thoughts for a long while. As they drove, the fatigue of the long day began to overwhelm her, and she felt her eyelids growing heavier. Finally, the blissful void of sleep overcame her.
=================
Wendy Briese had just done one of the very things she was certain that she'd never do in her life: willingly leave with Victor Mandrake to go to his castle. The same castle that, during her last visit, she was a tortured prisoner for two weeks.
Funny how things had a way of working themselves out.
Victor brushed past Wendy and opened the passenger side door of his black Cadillac CTS for Wendy.
"I'm sure you'll find this more accommodating than the trunk," he sneered.
"Thank you," Wendy said coldly as she sat down inside the car. "What a gentleman."
"One does what one can," Victor said with a smirk as he shut the door. He hopped in the driver's side and started the car. "If you have to go to the bathroom, I'd suggest going now, as I can't guarantee when the next rest stop will be."
"I'm fine, although you should have mentioned that BEFORE we got in the car." Wendy stared straight ahead out the window. "I can't believe I'm doing this..."
"Why not?" Victor asked, backing up out of the parking space. "You're doing nothing more than any other member of our profession would by spending quality training time with your tag team partner."
"Most members of our profession haven't partnered with someone who's spent the last six years coming up with ways to make their lives a living hell."
"Don't flatter yourself, my dear," Victor said. "This 'living hell', as you've so eloquently put it, was enacted as soon as I saw your idiotic manager on the TV bumbling away about how big his ego is."
"So let me get this straight," Wendy said, anger already starting to rise in here. "Pollaski gets a job with the alliance as a columnist, and you concoct this plan to wreck my life, nearly ruin my marriage, and drag me back into professional wrestling?"
"No, my plan was formed back in November when Rick died," Victor said flatly. "I just didn't know how to find you to execute my plans until Daniel showed up. My intention was only to make sure you properly atoned for what you did to him. The fact that it's nearly ruined your life is of no fault of mine, and quite frankly, is a little melodramatic."
"Properly atoned?" Wendy scoffed. "Has it ever occured to you, Victor, that I am in no way accountable to you for my sins? Any atoning I need to do... it certainly isn't going to be through you."
"I couldn't agree more," Victor said. "You don't owe me anything. You never have. You owe it to Rick. Don't think of me as a vessel through which you can achieve his forgiveness, rather, think of me as a catalyst through which the process of mourning, acceptance, and forgiveness can begin."
"So, of course, there's nothing in it for you..." Wendy scoffed again.
"Well I never said that," he pointed out. "I potentially get to be half of the World Tag Team Champions, and other than being able to catch up with a dear old friend of mine who's presence will be gracing my castle once more, I also have the opportunity to impart some of my wisdom onto you."
"So basically, I've left my family for a weeklong indoctrination session?"
"You say it like it's a bad thing."
"I don't know much about your beliefs," Wendy confessed. "But what I do know is that you find torturing girls in dungeons acceptable. You view murder as an appropriate method. You hate the God I believe in, and I'm not entirely sure I want to hear the rest of your twisted ideals."
Victor sighed. "All of my 'crimes', as you would like to call them, all have a purpose. They're always a means to an end. I'll admit that they usually have selfish motives, but at least they're honest. You see, I don't think we're too different at all when you dissect our beliefs and moral systems. You believe in justice and the greater good, and so do I. We just have different methodologies and tactics in how we go about ascertaining them. The main thing is that I recognize the hypocrisy that stems from society's law and the laws of God whereas you seem to either be blind to them, ignorant, or both."
"I am neither," Wendy replied. "I know our society has flaws in it. No human society can ever be perfect. But I also believe what we have right now is a heck of a lot better than anything else that's been tried."
"Really?" Victor asked incredulously. "You honestly believe that our system of laws and regulations are better than anything else that's been tried? You think people like rapists, child abusers or murderers receive justice when they get a short jail sentence are are set back loose on the unsuspecting public? You think it's fair when they receive anything less than a public execution?"
"Of course not!" Wendy snapped. "Obviously, there are those amongst us who's evil cannot be rehabilitated, and they must be removed from society, whether by lifetime imprisonment or... more drastic measures." She shot Victor a meaningful glance. "And penalties are too lax in some cases. But our police and court systems are set up so that when we put someone away, we make sure its the right person. And if executions are required, they're done quickly and humanely, and not turned into a lavish spectacle of bloody brutality."
"You believe that those subhuman parasites deserve quick and humane deaths? Wouldn't it be more fair for the weight of their punishment to equal the weight of their crimes and the effect it has upon those who were victimized by it? You don't think a child molester being castrated and torn to pieces in full view of the public would make that next disgusting pig think twice?"
"Anyone who harms a child like that deserves to die," Wendy said. "But would society today really view a public execution as a morality lesson? Or would it just serve to satiate the human desire for blood and violence? It's a dangerous line to walk."
"I think the better question is, would society today get behind the concept of an instant death sentence for a crime of that magnitude?" Victor retorted. "We're obviously on the same page when it comes to that, but do you think everyone else is?"
"First of all, by 'instant', I hope you mean after a fair trial. And honestly, I don't know."
"'Fair' being a relative term given today's judicial system, but yes," he answered. "And I can tell you that everyone else isn't on the same page. If they were, we wouldn't be having this discussion. So the question becomes, what are you going to do about it? If you feel strongly about this, what kind of statement are you going to make? Or are you going to choose to remain apathetic and complacent, settling for 'good enough'?"
"Never complacent, but whatever changes need to be made must be done in the system. Its a hard, slow process, but the alternative, revolution, can be much worse."
"True, or it can be exactly what we need," Victor said. "You see Wendy, like I said, we're not so different after all once you get to our root, core beliefs. You may think my methods are too severe and I think yours aren't severe enough, but that doesn't mean we don't believe or desire the same things in life. That's what you need to realize in order to trust that we're working towards the same goals here and that any ulterior motives I may have are only to get you to understand my point of view and perhaps get you to think differently about how you view not only our profession, but the world as a whole."
"That's so sweet of you, Victor," Wendy said, rolling her eyes. "I didn't know that all this was just you trying to make me into a better person."
"Make all the facetious comments you wish, but at the end of the week, you may find yourself to be just that."
Wendy snorted. "So, what's the itinerary? Just seven straight days of you feeding me malarkey that every single horrible thing you've ever done is really for the good of all mankind?"
"With actual wrestling dispersed in between, yes," Victor deadpanned.
Wendy paused, and looked out the window for a long while, then finally sighed. "You know... I hate to admit it, but aside from Terry, ability-wise, you're about the best tag partner a girl could hope for."
This time, it was Victor's turn to snort. "And why's that? Because I'm so big and scary?"
Wendy actually laughed, and shook her head. "No... well... yes. I mean, you know how to use your size to maximum advantage. But... you're extremely talented, Victor. You don't win three world championships on size alone."
"Well thank you, my dear," Victor said genuinely. "And for the record, had you kept at it, your name would be right alongside Misty Xiao's as the only women World Champions in the alliance's history."
Wendy stared, surprised at both the compliment, and Victor's mention of Misty, considering he was the one she had defeated to gain the championship. "Thank you," she finally said earnestly. "Although I wouldn't have needed six people to do it."
"Nor do I think you would've accepted the help," Victor pointed out.
"No, I wouldn't," Wendy said fiercely. "I tend to not look favorably on interference in my matches," she said, giving Victor a dirty look.
Mandrake flashed an all-knowing grin. "Indeed."
Wendy held her glare for several seconds, and finally looked away. She stared out the window, lost in her thoughts for a long while. As they drove, the fatigue of the long day began to overwhelm her, and she felt her eyelids growing heavier. Finally, the blissful void of sleep overcame her.
=================
MAY 11TH, 2010
FLORIDA PANHANDLE
1:22 PM LOCAL TIME
Wendy came too as the Cadillac came over a large bump, jostling her awake. Stifling a yawn and rubbing her eyes, she looked out the window, surprised to find them driving though what appeared to be a subtropical forest. Palm trees towered over dense underfoliage, although Wendy noticed Cypresses growing further back... must be marshland too. Small beams of sunlight managed to radiate through the canopy, and she could see that it was a gorgeous day outside with plenty of sun and clear blue skies. The road they were on was a narrow, one lane dirt road that wound through the forest. All in all, Wendy found it a beautiful view. Shame she missed it the last time she was here.
"Sleep well?" Victor asked.
Stifling another yawn, Wendy looked over at Victor, and nodded. "How long was I asleep?"
"Ten hours," he said. "We're almost to the castle."
"Wow," Wendy said, yawning again. "I didn't know I could sleep so well in a car."
Victor smiled and kept on driving. After a few minutes, Wendy could see a clearing approaching.
"Home sweet home..." Victor said proudly.
As they got into the clearing, Wendy stared with dread and awe at the massive structure that ominously loomed in front of her. Castle Mandrake was at least one hundred feet in each direction of blackened brick and mortar. The main, square part of the castle boasted an slightly dropped angular roof that peaked in the middle and ran perpendicular with the front, and was supported on all four corners by rooks that stood about twenty-five feet above the rest of the structure. A large entryway about three-quarters of the size of the rest of the castle protruded out the north end of the castle, featuring a set of thick, dark cherry oak doors that climbed two-thirds of the way up. The doors prominently displayed the Mandrake Crest in blackened wrought iron and were adorned with intricate vine-like designs made of the same material. On top of the entryway rested a domed skylight. A glint of light caught her eye as she saw the crystal-blue Gulf of Mexico behind the castle crashing into the brown sandy shores.
"Wow..." Wendy breathed, trying her hardest to look unimpressed, and failing miserably. "I thought cleaning The Nest was hard," she quipped, referring to the nickname Pollaski had given her Indianapolis house.
"Makes you wonder how Rick and Terrence couldn't find it, doesn't it?" Mandrake shot at her.
The glare Wendy turned on him would have melted steel, and Victor chuckled. Wendy's hands formed into claws, and it was likely that had Victor not been driving, she would have lunged at him without thinking. Victor simply drove around to the east side of the castle to a three stall garage embedded into the castle. Wooden doors shuddered as the automatic garage door opener peeled the southern-most set back. Victor pulled into the stall, turned the car off, exited the vehicle, walked to Wendy's door, and opened it for her.
"Welcome back," he said.
Wendy climbed out of the car, ignoring the hand Victor chivalrously offered, although her legs wobbled from being cooped up for so long. "I look like a wreck," she complained, smoothing out the black tunic-style top and skirt she had been wearing.
"Quite the contrary, actually," he said matter-of-factly. He turned to the side, extending an arm towards the door to the interior of the castle. "Shall we?"
Wendy nodded, although she quickly retied her flaming red hair, which had come out of its customary ponytail somewhat. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she followed Mandrake through the door, into the castle. She was almost blinded by the brilliant light that shone into her eyes. The skylight above allowed the sun to pour in, bouncing off of the white marbled walls, floor, and staircases. The room itself was cylindrical in shape, conforming perfectly to the skylight. Halfway up the walls, a square molding wrapped around the entire room with gargoyles perched on top positioned equidistantly from each other. Two massive staircases flanked the room, attached to the wall and curving upward as they went. Two more gargoyles sat on the ends of the staircase's railings, as if guarding the way up. Solid wooden doors were located at the top of both staircases, as well as two beneath each staircase with one in the middle of the four, set down into the wall and preceded by a short, four step set of stairs. In the middle of the room stood a centerpiece of sorts, embedded into the floor. A solid dome of obsidian rose from a series of seven gold circles encrusted with strange symbols, also set in obsidian. Carved into the dome once again was the Mandrake Crest, this time bathed blood-red, contrasting sharply against the black rock. Along the walls at arms reach on either side of the enormous front door were Victor's trophies, replicas of his titles and accomplishments accompanied by pictures of when he won the particular accolade, and oddly enough, when he lost it as well.
Wendy paused at one particular picture, a shot of Victor standing triumphantly over a bloody mangled mess- Rick Logan. His third world title reign, won at Summer Games Five. She shook her head sadly, and walked on.
"That one should interest you more," Victor said, pointing above the title she looked at. There, she looked upon a collage of photos, all in seemingly chronological order in a straight line above the trophies, each photo showing a failed title attempt by Victor. The one that caught her eye was a picture of her husband, Terrence Thompson, holding the World Title above a fallen Mandrake.
"That should have been here..." Wendy said quietly, pointing at a picture of a smaller man of Chinese descent holding the World Title. "Not the first time a WWA Championship was disgraced, nor the last," she said quietly.
"Now there's something we can agree on one hundred percent," he said.
Their conversation was broken by the sudden crashing of a door opening and thunderous chanting.
"DADDY'S HOME DADDY'S HOME DADDY'S HOME!!!"
Victor was immediately besieged by an overgrown nine year old who leaped on his back and attempted to put him in a choke hold. He immediately flipped his son over his shoulder and put him gently to the ground, faking his own choke hold and tickling him mercilessly, happiness glowing from his bright green eyes.
"Nice try, Zack."
Zechariah blew a raspberry at this father, who pretended to be seriously offended and rough housed with him a little more before noticing two little blue eyes running up to him. Victor messed up his son's black hair and immediately scooped up his daughter Delilah as she giggled with glee. Tossing her in the air a couple of times while her black curly locks bounced, he held her close and gave her a big kiss.
"Daddy missed you, baby."
"I missed you too Daddy...." she said as she gave him a kiss on the cheek back.
Wendy tried to avoid staring, but she found she couldn't help it. This warm, tender side was obviously one Victor Mandrake never showed to his enemies. She suddenly felt a wave of homesickness, thinking of her own daughter.
"Zechariah, Delilah, I'd like you both to meet Mrs. Thompson," Victor said, gesturing towards Wendy.
Wendy found herself suddenly self-conscious as the two children stared at her. "H...hello" she managed to stammer out, knowing she was turning red.
They both waved at her.
"Dad says you killed Uncle Rick," Zechariah blurted.
"Zack, Mrs. Thompson isn't here about that," Victor quickly admonished him.
"But Dad, you said-"
"I said that was enough," Victor said sharply.
Wendy stared at Zechariah. From the way he looked and acted, he couldnt have been more than ten, but he was as big as Terrence. Finally, she found her voice. "Well, it's very nice to meet you both," she said politely, pointedly ignoring Zechariah's outburst.
"You too," Zechariah half spoke, half mumbled contemptuously, earning a look from his father that most people don't want to be on the receiving end of for fear of what was coming next. He got the hint and started to walk away quickly.
"Take your sister with you," Victor commanded. Zechariah came back, grabbed Delilah by the hand and walked out with her. Delilah turned and waved bye to Wendy.
"Thanks, Victor." Wendy sighed. "I can see ONE common theme for the upcoming week."
"My children not well behaved enough for you, Wendy?" a female's voice called out.
Wendy's eyes turned upwards to the top of the west stairway. Dressed in a black leather halter top, a mid-thigh length black and blue patterned skirt, and black knee high boots that all snugged her trim and fit frame was one Morrigan Mandrake. Her sapphire blue eyes looked down at Wendy behind mid-back-length raven hair while her ivory face was twisted in a sneer.
"Hello, Morrigan," Wendy attempted warmly. This deep in enemy territory, she had no desire for any conflicts. "No, your children are delightful. I just... have a small difference in opinion with Zechariah on the perspective of a historical matter."
"I bet you do," Morrigan chuckled as she sauntered down the stairs. "We could ask Rick his opinion - oh wait, that's right, you saw to it that he'd never say another word."
For the second time in fifteen minutes, Wendy felt her hands forming talons, and for one brief second, she thought of how satisfying it would be to run up and throw Morrigan down the stairs. But she calmed herself. If she was going to get through this week, she would need to keep her temper in check. "I'm sorry you feel that way," she finally said.
"Not yet you're not," she hissed.
"Morrigan," Victor warned. "Wendy is a guest in our home and will be treated as such, as we discussed."
Wendy heard genuine anger in Victor's voice, but whether it was directed at her or Morrigan, she couldn't tell. Still, she found herself looking away, embarrassed. Morrigan's jaw clenched and her tongue stuck into her cheek.
"Very well," Morrigan said. "My apologies, Wendy."
"There is no need," Wendy said quietly. "You feel what you feel. It's good to see you are well, Morrigan."
"You as well," she responded. She walked to Victor and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."
Victor nodded as she walked away, then turned to Wendy.
"Shall we get you to your room?"
Wendy nodded, looking up the stairs with more than a little trepidation. "Your home is beautiful," she said.
"Thank you," Victor said, leading the way up the east stairway. "It took years to build and perfect the way I wanted it, and I still spend countless hours updating and fixing it."
Victor opened the door at the top of the stairwell and opened the door for Wendy. She walked into a corridor with even more doors and corridors attached. The whole castle seemed like a literal labyrinth. Attached to the walls were multiple torches, no doubt used to light the way in the dead of night. Open breeze windows lined the outer wall of each corridor, allowing the warm Gulf breeze to come in. Victor stopped at a corner door.
"Your room, my dear."
He opened the door into a room that was bigger than her living room back home. A large, California King bed was off to the left, set within a beautiful oak frame that rose to the top of the ceiling, which was a good fifteen feet above. Wrapped in a green sheer silk canopy, the bed was adorned with thick, luxurious green bedding and feather-down pillows with a feather-down mattress. Straight ahead was the door to the connected full bathroom, which from what she could see from the doorway, was made with marble counter tops and sinks and also sported a ceiling mounted shower. A large ornately designed wooden dresser was off to the near left handed corner, matching with the armoire in the opposite corner. Across from the bed was a huge fireplace with a black marbled mantle, and next to the fireplace was a giant open-breeze window that overlooked the Gulf. Another window was to the left of the bathroom, overlooking the surrounding forest in the east that seemed to go on endlessly.
Wendy stared at the opulent room in awe. "You're not in Indiana anymore, Dorothy," she muttered under her breath.
"I believe you were looking for that," Victor pointed to the fireplace mantle. Wendy's eyes trained on the spherical object resting there.
Rick's helmet.
Wendy nodded, relieved that Victor, at least for now, was keeping his word. "Thanks. I can't ride my bike without that," she said, attempting to downplay the item's significance.
"I'm sure that's what you were most concerned about," Victor said sarcastically.
Wendy snorted, knowing full well Victor understood how much the helmet meant to her. "So... what now?"
"Now, you get this," he said, pulling a small, silver object out of his pocket. "This is the key to your room. It is the only key that I have for this room, so you can feel safe in knowing that no one is going to try to sneak into your room and try anything while you're sleeping, getting dressed, so on and so forth."
"Thank you," Wendy said, putting the key in a small breast pocket on her tunic. "As for the rest of the castle? I assume at least one of these rooms are forbidden and hold your deepest darkest secret."
"You're already well acquainted with the level of the castle I like to keep secret," Victor said. "I have nothing to hide from you. Feel free to roam as you wish. You might be particularly interested in my library. If memory serves, there's an original printing of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales in there somewhere. If you can find it, it's yours."
"Thanks," Wendy said, taken aback by the generosity... and a little creeped out that Victor had somehow known it was her favorite book. "So, what's the training itinerary?"
"Today, you relax," Mandrake said. "You're no good to me if you're tensed up and worried. I need you sharp and focused, and you can't do that if you're not comfortable with your surroundings. Take the day, roam the castle, enjoy the beach, head to the library, do what you need to in order to be prepared. We start tomorrow at seven in the morning. Our training will be extremely rigorous and taxing, both physically and mentally."
Wendy nodded. "Works for me. But before I do anything, I better go get my suitcase out of the car."
"No need, allow me," Victor insisted as he headed down the corridor.
Wendy watched him go, then turned back into her room. So far so good. She had gone thirty minutes without getting herself into trouble. But she knew the rest of the week would not be as kind. It was going to be an exhausting few days.
She looked out the window, enjoying the view of the Gulf, and being especially thrilled when she saw a dolphin leap out of the water about a mile out. But gradually, her thoughts gravitated north, to the comparatively humble abode in northwestern Indianapolis she called home.
She missed it already.
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