The Adventures of the Misfits of Mayhem - Episode 9: Dr. Moreau’s Gift
After his brutal Hell in a Cell victory, Mean Jack Mason basks in glory — but ghosts of his past and strange new alliances begin to stir.
A mysterious visit from Dr. Moreau offers both answers and new dangers, while Polly’s haunting lullaby echoes with hidden power.
And in the shadows, Negropolis watches… plotting his next move in the war for Mason’s soul.
Scene: Pleasant Pines Arena – Backstage, moments after the main event of Polar Power Episode 032: The Halloween Horror Special.
The roar of the crowd is still echoing faintly down the concrete corridors as Mean Jack Mason steps into the Primal Horde’s dressing room, sweat still glistening under the pale flicker of fluorescent lights. He’s clutching the North Pole Championship, crimson fingerprints smudging the gold plates—a reminder of the brutality that just unfolded inside Hell in a Cell.
The room itself feels like a den of beasts. Marcus the Beastmaster, his hulking frame half-swallowed by shadow, sits on a bench coiling thick steel chains around his forearms like a handler securing wild tigers. His charges—the Beasts, massive and feral, their dirty-blond hair tangled and their chests heaving—pace the floor restlessly. On a nearby table, the NPCW Tag Team Titles gleam under the buzzing lights, trophies reclaimed after weeks of uncertainty.
In contrast, Polly Mason twirls through the room like a burst of chaos and cheer—her voice humming the faint tune of a lullaby, her eyes alive with pride.
“What a night, Jackie!” she sings, spinning once before landing beside her brother. “Our boys are back, the Horde is unstoppable again!”
Jack smirks faintly, wiping the blood from his knuckles. “Yeah… unstoppable.”
But there’s a flicker of something behind that grin. Something hollow.
This is his hometown—Pleasant Pines, Alaska. He hasn’t set foot here since the funerals, since before everything changed. The cold walls, the faint smell of pine and diesel outside the arena—it all stirs something buried deep. Ghosts of parents long gone. Friends left behind. The Misfits of Mayhem. Negropolis, Ace, Flippers… and Edie.
He blinks, shaking it off. That was Madman Mason, he reminds himself. Mean Jack Mason doesn’t need anyone.
And then, from the doorway—
“Congratulations on a very successful night, Mr. Mason…”
The voice is smooth, serpentine, and unmistakable.
Jack turns to see Dr. Moreau, immaculate as ever in a long black trench coat and polished shoes, dark glasses glinting under the fluorescent light. In one hand, a leather case. His lips curl into what might be a smile—or the closest approximation of one.
Jack rises, resting the North Pole Title over his shoulder. “Dr. Moreau. Well, this is a surprise. Didn’t take you for a wrestling fan.”
Moreau chuckles softly. “I assure you, I’m not. Your associate Marcus reached out to me a week ago—mentioned your cousins, the Beasts, were… regressing. So I prepared a small booster.” He nods toward the feral duo now swaying behind Marcus. “You see the results for yourself. Back to their prime, perhaps even better than before.”
Jack glances to Marcus, who gives a satisfied smirk.
“Yeah,” Jack mutters. “Normal. Whatever that means.”
He narrows his eyes slightly. “So why show up in person, Doctor? You could’ve sent a courier.”
With deliberate calm, Moreau clicks open the case. Inside, two vials of swirling bluish-green serum glimmer beneath the lights like bottled lightning.
“Because these,” he says smoothly, “require… careful handling. Two additional boosters, should the regression return. Simply administer one at the base of the neck, and you’ll keep your… cousins in perfect form.”
Jack stares at the vials for a beat too long, his reflection bending and warping in the liquid. Then he nods and takes the case. “Appreciate it, Doc. I’ll make sure they’re used wisely.”
Moreau’s smile sharpens. “I trust you will. Oh—and Dr. Goodefellow sends his regards. He’s quite eager to see you again. Perhaps next time you find yourself south.”
Jack chuckles dryly. “Yeah, I’ll pencil that in. But right now, I’ve got celebrating to do.”
Moreau dips his head slightly. “Naturally. You’ve earned it, Champion.”
He turns to leave—then pauses and takes Marcus gently by the arm, pulling him aside for a quiet word. Their voices are too low to make out, but Jack watches them from the corner of his eye, his grip tightening on the serum case.
Polly flutters back over, eyes wide and curious. “What’s that, Jackie?”
Jack smirks, tapping the case with a finger. “The key, sis… the key.”
Polly giggles and hums that same eerie lullaby again—the one that’s been haunting Jack’s dreams lately. His smile flickers, something cold passing through him as the faint tune echoes in his head.
Meanwhile, down the corridor, a figure watches.
Half-hidden in shadow, Negropolis stands silently, his skull mask faintly reflecting the light. His eyes follow Moreau as he exits through the loading dock. His jaw tightens, and he slips a phone from his coat.
On the glowing screen, a map appears—Casey Therapeutics blinking on it like a heartbeat.
He shuts the phone, steps deeper into the darkness, and disappears into the night.
FADE OUT – END OF EPISODE 009
No comments:
Post a Comment