From the Journal of Deimos
February 24, 2004

This past Monday, I stepped into the ring and did battle against Nick Adams for a chance at the WWA World Title. I have to admit that I like Nick. He’s a good man. Too many people spend their time talking and insulting others. Nick let’s his actions speak for him. Too many people go around insisting that they deserve respect. Nick earns his.

I lost that battle. Nick Adams got the pin, and he’ll be going on to face Shaman for the chance to fight for the World Title. Leviathan took that opportunity away from me by attacking me in the match. I can only take solace in knowing that I tried.

And in the knowledge that I will get my hands around Leviathan’s throat at Rage in the Cage. This burning hatred in my heart keeps me awake at night. This unyielding rage pushes me closer to the brink of violence. Over and over again, I picture various situations at RiTC, disturbing images of tearing Leviathan’s searing green eyes from their sockets, of tearing his still beating heart from his chest. The monster has made my life a living Hades. He has taken away my hopes at the World Title, he took away my chance to exact revenge on Damian Thorne. He has caused so much harm, so much suffering. Not just for me, but for everyone in the WWA. They have all suffered under his brutal reign of terror. At RiTC, I will end that reign, even if I must give my own life to do so. My honor demands nothing less.

But then, will it really matter? Have I fallen too far to defeat the monster that will be standing opposite of me in that steel cage? At one time, I doubted nothing. There was a time, with Phobos at my side, that I couldn’t fathom the idea of defeat. I thought I was unstoppable. I thought that I was beyond the pale of mortal men. I thought that I was a god. But now, I don’t know. I don’t know anything. All of the doctor’s that I’ve encountered in various mental hospitals have all said the same thing. They said that I was delusional. And they may very well be right. After all, what proof do I have that any aspect of my memory is true? How can I know that my past, as I remember it, is nothing more than a construct of my delusions?

I know that Tiffani is trying to find the answers for me. She thinks that I don’t know, but I figured it out when she kept asking questions about where Phobos would go if he were in LA, Hamburg, and most recently, Manchester. I know that she’s looking for him, wanting to find the answers to help me. Bless her for that. I don’t know what I would do without her. She’s the only source of stability in my life.

But, what if she does find him? Do I want to know the truth? If it turns out that I am nothing more than a mortal man, then that would mean that Phobos...that he wasn’t the man that I thought he was. It would mean that the man that I loved as a brother was just another betrayer, feeding my delusional fantasies with rhetoric, using me as a weapon for his own gain. I don’t think that I could take that. That would be one last betrayal that I could not stomach.

I’m afraid. Not of Leviathan. But, of the truth.