Cancer was such a deceitful little thing.

Why would it, after all this time, decide to jump back from its recessive state and emerge again? Hadn't it done enough to my life? Hadn't the pain inflicted by this disease been sufficient enough to return it to a permanent dormant place? What would make it return? What motivation would it have to once again become a part of my life? Trouble. That's all it could mean, that's all it would mean, and its sole motivation.

When was the last time I'd seen Cancer? Before I'd captured the PCW championship, I knew that. Ace and I had not yet become friends when Cancer reared its ugly head for the last known time. I couldn't help but recall the last time I'd seen her. Her house ablaze, her child in danger, and the scowl on her face when I reappeared, despite our differences, to make sure everything was okay. My love for human life and fear for the Earth shedding a tear for the loss of a child overrode my overwhelming distaste for Cancer, and instead of graciousness, I was treated to the death stare. The look that could kill the real cancer and send it running for the hills to join polio and tuberculosis… The one that should normally be reserved for enemies and evildoers…

That's when it hit me. Regardless of my attempts to be civil and courteous, I was seen as an enemy. Somehow, out of her betrayal and deceit, I'd managed to earn myself the status of an enemy, I would assume to her entire family. Knowing how manipulative Cancer could be, I have no doubt that Chris was riding that same bandwagon. Her child would grow up and one day ask who the blue-haired person on her television was, and followed would be a long explanation of misconception and ill-conceived deeds that would be altered through bias and unadulterated hatred. Her parents always despised me for whatever reason, and I had reason to believe that was the underlying cause for such the wretched departure.

I began to recall that same death stare from her mother. I would receive it regularly on Sunday mornings as I lounged in the foldout chair half-asleep. It's not that I didn't respect their right to believe what they wanted to, but the manner in which they did it just rubbed me the wrong way. Here they were, preaching about love and the word of their God, but all I would hear is hatred and bigotry, but I knew better than to open my mouth about it. The way to happiness with this woman was to appease the demands of her parents, no matter how twisted and ridiculous it might seem. I felt differently, I knew differently, but there was no convincing anyone of that, nor would I attempt to. As hard as it was, I just had to remain passive.

That's when I knew they were out for me since the beginning. Despite my best efforts to remain civil and not say anything that might think I hold their rituals in ill-favor, the expression on my face of boredom and disgust were all they needed. I suppose not participating in the jumping jacks and speaking of tongues didn't help either.

Things went downhill from there, and the more her parents hated me, the more the tension grew between us. Or was it already there and I was just blinded by the love I thought I felt for her? Both are a possibility, and hindsight is only twenty-twenty in what happened, not how you felt about said occurrences.

So why was it back? Why was she back? What did she want? What motivation did she have to be meddling in my life?

...

PCW television returns from a regularly scheduled commercial. Bob Smith of HHW announcing fame is leaning on a desk in a full black suit while some underlying dramatic music is playing.

"PCW is returning to Tuesday nights, and the fans couldn't be anticipating the action more. The returning Trauma dubbed 'Clash of the Champions' sold out in a mere eighteen minutes, and while there's a shortage of longtime PCW favorites, many new faces look to decorate the horizons and build PCW for the future. Booked for this show, however, is the return of arguably the most successful competitor in Pure Class Wrestling history; Hall of Famer, former world champion Lantlas Anduril, the 'Elven Warrior.' At a solid 6'7, Lantlas Anduril held a nearly unthinkable record of 34-5 during the year 2006, being defeated in only one singles match, and holding the coveted PCW championship for a strong six months."

"While reasons beyond those given may only be known to the Warrior himself, Lantlas Anduril decided to leave PCW television shortly after dropping the title to Grimm at last year's Deadly Intentions program. Not before going out with a bang though, as an eight-person War Games match took place, where Lantlas finally regained the HHW championship from Non Compos Mentis, leaving PCW with the emblem of his past before his adversary defaced it. The last time anyone reported spotting Lantlas was at the PCW Hall-of-Fame ceremony, where both Lantlas and his good friend Ace Anderson were inducted into PCW immortality."

"Since that day, rumors have been afloat that some kind of event took place that isolated Lantlas from the rest of the world, including his believed significant other Emily DuPrae, known to the PCW world as Jade. This is why it has come as a huge surprise to everyone that on the returning card of 'Clash of the Champion's', appearing on the matches taking place is none other than the Elven Warrior himself. Does this mean that Lantlas will be showing up to make his long-awaited return to the wrestling world, or does not even PCW management know that something may have happened to the Hall-of-Famer? PCW will keep you updated on this situation as it develops, and as a longtime friend of Mr. Anduril, my thoughts are with him."

...

"I do not know what is wrong with him, Miss DuPrae."

Jade looked down at the ground as the doctor tapped his clipboard with his pen. Finally, after shaking away some emotion, she looked back at him. "Can I at least see him?"

"I'm afraid in his condition, because you two are not yet legally married, I cannot let you in there."

"What about his little girl, Emerald? She needs to see her father!"

"Miss DuPrae," the doctor muttered as he shuffled through some papers on his board, "I don't know how to tell you this, but there is no birth certificate for this child. Nor is there a social security number, or any other form of identification whatsoever. Not only do we not have any proof that Mr. Anduril is her father, but there is not even any record of her existence."

Jade's expression turned from bereaved to confused. She glanced back towards the waiting room, where Emerald was playing with another little girl who had been burned in an accident. Emerald's smile comforted Jade's heart, though she had no idea how to bring the crushing news that she would not be allowed to visit her Vati.

The doctor returned to the room where the blue-haired giant laid still. Sitting down in the chair next to the bed and setting his clipboard aside, he took a deep breath. "Mr. Anduril," he thought out loud, "I have no idea what's going on with you, but those people out there must really love you. I'll do all I can to make sure that little girl doesn't have to live without a father. Whether you're biologically her father or not matters not to me, because you've obviously raised her as your own. Everything will work out."

...

Walking back to the apartment, everything seemed different. I glanced at my watch, and for 4PM it seemed rather dark. Granted, it was February, so that time of the year always seemed dark to some people. Stepping up to my door, I reached in my pocket for my keys, but I didn't find anything. In fact, my pockets were completely empty of my wallet and my phone as well. I groaned, thinking I'd left the house without anything. I hoped for some luck as I knocked on the door, praying that Jade would be home already. I pounded on the wood and paced away a few steps. For some reason, nothing was happening. I stepped over towards the front window and tried to peer into the apartment, but I couldn't see anything.

"May I help you with something?"

I turned to see a mid-aged woman clutching a paper bag of groceries standing at the foot of the steps. The keys in her hand were shaking nervously, and I could tell she was afraid of me. I tried not to be intimidating, although that is rather difficult for a blue-haired freak that's taller than ninety-nine percent of the human population. "Sorry, I must've forgotten my keys in my apartment, and I was just trying to see if either my girlfriend or my daughter were home."

"Sir, this isn't your apartment," she nervously replied.

"What do you mean? I've lived here for several months."

"You must have the wrong building then, because I've lived here for five years. Now if you'll excuse me, please leave before I call the police." The woman disappeared inside the door and shut it. I stood there dazed as I heard the clacking of several locks from the inside. She was probably right; I just had the wrong building was all.

Hurrying back out to the street, I saw Jade in the distance walking up to a first-floor condo about a quarter-mile away. I booked it down the street, trying to get her attention. By the time I reached the sidewalk, she had disappeared inside the apartment. Strolling up, my confusion grew to new heights. I may have had the wrong building before, but I didn't even recognize this place. There was something strange going on. I shrugged it off though; maybe the carpets in our place were being cleaned or something.

This time when I knocked on the door, Jade stepped out, and that was a great relief. "Yes?" she greeted in a manner that seemed like she didn't even know who I was.

"Jade, since when do we live here? Is something going on at our place?"

Jade's eyes grew wide, and she started to close the door in front of her. Luckily, I got my foot in the way of the closing door just in time. "Jade, what's going on?"

...

After a small struggle, she finally released the door and let it open. Her eyes drifted down to the floor, and in the light, I could see a bruise around her eye. I tried to reach up to brush her hair out of the way, but she quickly moved back so I couldn't touch her. "You're not with them, are you?" she asked, seemingly scared out of her mind.

"With who? Jade, what are you talking about?"

"I'm not Jade," she whispered. "Jade died a long time ago. I'm only Emily DuPrae. Jade died when this happened. Why are you here?"

"Because… we live together? Jade, stop playing this game, it's not funny at all."

"You think I'm playing a game?!" she screamed as she stomped towards me. She brushed her hair away from her face and pointed at her eye. "Does this look like a game to you? Does being violated and stripped of your dignity sound like a God damn game to you? Who the hell do you think you are?"

"The guy who's in love with you."

"Yeah, I'm sure. Love is dead, Mr. Blue Hair." Before I could do anything, she pushed me out the door and slammed it shut. I could hear a piercing scream from the inside, followed by the sound of glass breaking. Something very strange was going on.

"And so, on February 27th, we will see the return of one of PCW's greatest competitors, as the Elven Warrior will be taking on another competitor returning to Pure Class Wrestling, Bob Diehard, the dubbed "Conformist Killer." As was reported earlier, no one has heard from Lantlas in months, so it's not even known for sure if he's going to show up to the event. We attempted to get in contact with Jade to question his whereabouts, but she declined to comment on the situation. All we can hope for is that the Elven Warrior is all right and ready to compete. The winner of the match between Lantlas and Mr. Diehard will advance as the final entry into a gauntlet match for the PCW championship, the title held by Lantlas for almost half of the year 2006. While we're all hoping for the best right now, the truth behind this story remains a mystery."