At the WZCW HQ, Mr. Banks is pacing back and forth behind his desk, a brown package in hand. Myles and Bateman are sitting on the other side of the desk, an air of nervousness about them.
There’s a knock at the door. Banks comes to a halt.
“Come in.” he grunts.
The door opens and Mick Overlast pokes his head in. He has a badly swollen black eye that seems to throb sorely.
“You wanted to see me?” asks Overlast.
“Yes, Mick. Please come in.”
Overlast enters and closes the door behind him. He walks over to the desk.
“Take a seat.” Banks mumbles.
He sits down between Bateman and Myles, not looking at either of them.
“Where the hell is Becky?” Banks snaps at his GM’s.
“We don't know. Calls are going straight to her voicemail.” answers Myles.
“Damnit. We’ll have to proceed without her.”
He picks up a remote control off his desk and pushes a button. A flat screen TV descends from the ceiling on the wall behind him. He holds up the package to the other three men. Written on it:
“Do not open until the day after Meltdown 107”
“This was sent to my office just over a week ago,” he begins,
“From Blade. I didn’t think much of it at first. But then I saw what happened on Ascension…”
Overlast clenches his jaw at the mention of the last TV show.
“…And I think this is something we have to deal with now. So we’re going to watch whatever this is, and then figure something out.”
He starts to tear the package open...
-------------------------------------------------------
The four men are watching the recorded video from Blade on the TV. It’s about five minutes in:
“I hope you’re watching. ‘Cause you won’t wanna miss this.”
Blade paces back and forth in his locker room.
“This all started about three months ago. When Triple X returned, he targeted me for some reason. It didn’t really bother me, I’ve been targeted by everyone from Rush to Matt Tastic. What bothered me was how it all… Worked out.”
He shakes his head bitterly.
“Y’see, the referee ended my match with Triple X when I got injured. And Triple X proceeded to attack me after the bell. I was badly hurt, and he tried to finish the job. Now, my memory of that night is a little fuzzy, for obvious reasons, but the next thing I remember is people talking about Triple X’s performance in the World Title match.”
Blade eyes go wide as he feigns shock.
“Wait, what? Triple X in the World Title match? Surely I was mishearing things?”
He forces a laugh. But the laughter ends suddenly, and he stares into the camera, stone-faced.
“Nope. An hour after attacking me and trying to end my career, Triple X was competing for the WZCW World Heavyweight Title. He got to the right place by doing the wrong thing… But I held my tongue, I had more important things to worry about.”
He grinds his teeth for a moment as he weighs up his next words.
“My best friend had just been exiled from the company. Bob was forced to compete with a broken arm. A broken arm that had been caused by Diabolos. And he lost because of that arm. The psychopath stuck around, and the nicest guy in the company was forced into early retirement. And nobody batted a fucking eyelid.”
His voice is getting louder and angrier by the second.
“So then I start fighting back against the man that hurt my friend. I start attacking Diabolos, giving him a taste of his medicine. And y’know what happens? People start looking at me differently because I hurt Diabolos, like I’m the villain. PEOPLE START TELLING ME I NEED TO CALM DOWN!” he screams, his voice shaking with rage.
"So I did that,” he continues, his voicing calming slightly.
“I left Diabolos alone for a couple of weeks, safe in the knowledge that the match was official. I could wait that long to get my hands on him.”
He smirks as he remembers the match.
“The match came around, and I beat the hell out of him. I was able to get all my frustration out. It was… Therapeutic, even euphoric at times… And then Overlast decided to make his big return.”
His smirk fades.
“He stuck his nose in a match that I already had won. He got into the ring, and extended his hand.”
Blade extends his hand, as if offering a handshake to an invisible man.
“And I rejected him.”
He clenches his hand into a fist before lowering his arm.
“This man cost me a year of my career by attacking me when I was already injured. A year. That’s an eternity in this business. I wasn’t going to just accept his apology like that. I’m no push over. I have pride, and I have principles.”
The anger starts to bubble up inside him again.
“And then I go backstage, and people are giving me those funny looks again. Some people are straight up pissed off at me. ‘Why didn’t you shake his hand, Blade?’ ‘You should’ve forgiven him, Blade…’ ‘Why can’t you just let it go, Blade?’”
Blade looks down at the ground. And then, he starts to chuckle softly… The grows into a full belly laugh… In seconds, he’s roaring with laughter as he looks back up into the camera, a deranged look in his eyes.
“And that’s when it hit me. I got it.” he continues as he chortles,
“It didn’t matter what I did, people were never going to see me the right way. I’ve been betrayed by the fans, I’ve been betrayed by management, and I’ve been betrayed by everyone’s new favourite son, Mick Overlast.”
He wipes a tear from his eye and looks into the camera with a broad smile.
“See, I used to think that I could make everyone equal by taking those in poverty and pain and raising them up to the same level as the rich and the happy. But that doesn't work. People who get everything handed to them take things for granted, just like Mick Overlast took me for granted. And then it hit me… The only way I can make everyone equal is to take those who are put on pedestals, and drag them down to my level.”
He licks his lips gleefully
“So I’m gonna do that. I’m gonna drag all of you down to my level. I recommend that you don’t resist. Just… Let it happen. You might enjoy it down here. HA! See, it’s not about me winning. It’s about making sure everyone loses. I don’t care about winning the Lethal Lottery. I don’t care about the World Title. Who needs it!? What I care about is… Freeing you all from the shackles of what you mistakenly think is important.
“You created this monster. But don’t fear me. No, that’s not what I want… I want you to join me. Please. Think about how much fun we can all have!!”
Blade smiles, his wide, soulless eyes staring into the camera. A look to make your skin crawl.
“Anyways, I leave you to think about my offer. I have to go have a little roof date with Becky! Bye, boys! See you soon!”
As Blade laughs madly, the video cuts to static.
All four men in the room are speechless. Banks walks over to his mini bar and lays out four glasses. He grabs a bottle of amber liquid, twists the top off, and pours some into each glass.
He carries the glasses over to his desk, handing one each to Bateman, Myles and Overlast. He sits down at his desk and downs his drink in one gulp. He shakes his head, staring it to his glass before looking up at Overlast.
“Mick, you know Blade better than anybody. I’m asking you to stop him. Not just for us, but for the fans and for yourself.”
Overlast nods a determined nod.
“I was planning on getting revenge on Blade anyway, but this is worse than I realised… I’ll stop him. I won’t let him hurt anyone else.
Overlast gets to his feet and strides out of the office. Banks presses down the button on his desk’s intercom system.
“Alice, we have to stop Becky from going to see Blade. He’s lost his mind, and he’s likely dangerous. Call backstage staff, production staff, other wrestlers, whoever you can get a hold of. Tell them to call and text Becky saying she needs to get back to the office urgently."
“Yes, sir!” comes the receptionist’s reply through the intercom.
Banks slumps down into his chair and runs a hand over his tired face.
“What do we do?” asks Bateman.
“We hope that Overlast can get the job done…”
Myles and Bateman exchange a look of concern.
----------------------------------------------------
Blade stands on the roof of a five storey building on the edge of an unknown city. It’s eerily still and quiet all around. Despite the time of year, thick grey clouds hang threateningly overhead, the wind blowing Blade’s black trench coat back.
The door from the stairwell opens, and Becky Serra steps out onto the roof, wrapped up in a big raincoat. She looks exhausted as she walks over to Blade.
“I’m here. What do you want?” she sighs.
“Becky! Always a delight!” Blade replies with a broad smile.
“You know I don’t do this stuff anymore! I’m a GM now. I’ve got one hundred other things I should be doing instead of standing up here!” She growls back.
“And yet you’re here!”
“Because no one heard from you in over a week until you called me.”
“Yeah. Don’t we have such a great friendship?”
He puts an arm around her, which she aggressively pushes off.
“Stop it, Blade!”
He snickers at her look of annoyance.
“What do you want!? I’m freezing up here!” she snaps.
“Imagine how they feel...” Blade muses as he stares off into the distance.
“Who?”
With a menacing smirk, Blade saunters over to the edge of the building. He gestures for Becky to follow, which she does, reluctantly. Blade points downwards, and Becky looks over the edge and gasps.
On the street below are the Men in Black, standing to attention in five rows of four. Each man wears only a black wife beater, black cargo pants and black boots. Despite the icy bite of the wind, they stand completely still, with no expression on their faces.
Blade sits down, his legs dangling precariously over the edge.
“Lighten up, Becks!”
Becky doesn’t respond, as her anxiousness begins to grow.
“Firstly, I want to formerly introduce you to the Men in Black. They’re my new buddies!”
Blade gives a cackling laugh, one that makes Becky visibly wince with revulsion. She doesn’t respond, but she’s listening intently as she stands behind Blade.
“Y’see, a lot my friends having been getting hurt lately. Poor Grizzly Bob got beat up by Diabolos. And then Mick Overlast got hurt! Although, I guess that one was my fault… But it’s okay, it’s okay, I sent flowers to his hospital room! HAHAHA! But anyways, all my new friends started dropping like flies, so I got me some new friends. But they’re a little off, y'see. A few crumbs short of a cake, if y'know what I mean..."
He swings his legs back and forth as he looks down to the street.
“Becky, I came back to WZCW as someone who wanted to help people. The people… The people said they were behind me.”
He smiles a twisted smile as he reminisces.
“When I was throwing them free t-shirts, and taking on the bad guys, they cheered me on. Because, from the comfort of their sofas, it was so easy to cheer me on. WOOOOOOOOOO!” His yell is piercing,
“And I mean, who wouldn’t want a free t-shirt!?”
He cackles madly again. For a moment, Becky almost seems to feel some sympathy for the man sitting in front of her.
“Triple X said the audience was made up of hypocrites and fools. He said I was crazy to embrace them.”
He jumps to his feet, strides over to Becky and grabs her face in his hands.
“Do I seem crazy to you, Becky?”
She’s clearly terrified as he stares into her eyes with an unblinking glare.
“Am I missing something here? Am I the crazy one?”
Then, he let’s go of her and begins that sickeningly gleeful howling again.
“But yes. Yes, it was rather silly of me to trust the audience like that. WHOOPS! I was so adorable back then. Just a kid! In my excitement and my naivety, I mistakenly thought that suburban America would get my message. Maybe I should’ve put it on the Twittergram. They'd understand it just fine then, right?”
He begins to walk circles around a frozen Becky. With a rumble of thunder, rain starts to fall from the sky, splattering down to the roof and the street below.
“But I've figured something out. People are unreliable when they’re able to think for themselves. Anyone who thinks for themselves is a liability. I learned that the hard way…”
He looks down at the Men in Black. They haven’t moved an inch this whole time, even with the rain.
“These men, these guys right here… They’re not a liability, because they can’t think for themselves. They’re broken, just how I like ‘em. They’re like puppies sitting in front of you, waiting for you to throw the ball.”
He begins clapping rhythmically. The Men in Black follow suit, clapping along with their leader.
“Some of them, they’re just junkies, waiting for me to give them their next fix. And some of them are just angry, violent, disturbed men to whom I’ve made… Certain promises. I’ve promised that I’ll bring them to the WZCW to fight people and hurt people and cause all kinds of pain! Oh boy, they liked the sound of that! HAHA! So they became loyal soldiers on a handshake, and a promise of victims.”
His applauding becomes louder and faster. And then he suddenly stops, with the MiB stopping a split second later. He looks back at Becky with a smirk.
“Y’know where I found these freaks, Becks? They’re military rejects!! They couldn’t be tamed by drill sergeants and tough love, so they were discharged! And yet, I’m standing before them, and they’re willing to do anything for me! What does that tell you about the society we’re living in!? What does it say about how this country works, huh!?”
Blade shakes his head as he stares down at his army.
“These guys, they don’t wanna fight for freedom. They don’t wanna fight for their country. They just wanna… Fight.”
He walks over to Becky. She doesn’t have the bravery to back away from him.
“And who am I to deny them of that?”
Suddenly, he grabs Becky’s arm, and pulls her over to the front of the roof. Holding her by the arm, she teeters right on the edge.
“BLADE!”
“You wanna know how loyal they are?” he whispers, a sick look in his eyes.
“Don’t do this…” she sobs, as tears begin to flow down her face.
“I could let you go right now, and they’d catch you…”
“Stop this…”
Blade begins to snicker.
“…Assuming I told them to…”
“GOD DAMMIT, LET ME GO!” she screams through the tears.
Blade pulls her in and lets her go. She stumbles across the roof, trying to
compose herself.
“You’re sick…” hisses at him.
“Well then it was probably a terrible idea to come up there with me!” he shoots back through his laughter,
“Now go. Go tell them everything.”
After one last look of anger, Becky turns and storms away from him, pushing through the door to the stairwell and disappearing out of sight.
Blade strolls over to the edge of the roof again, and gazes down at his recruits.
“Hey, boys! Listen, there’s been a little mistake… And long story short, there’s only one spare bed to sleep in tonight at the hideout. So, to see who gets it, we’re going to play a game. Doesn’t that sound fun?”
The MiB stay completely still and silent. Blade holds up Becky’s cell phone.
“The first person to bring me this phone gets to sleep on a bed. The rest of you will sleep on the floor.”
Blade dangles the phone over the edge with a grin.
“Annnnd…. Go!”
He drops the phone. It plummets down, and the Men in Black begin to push and shove frantically for position. Several hands reach out in an attempt to catch the phone, but it’s fumbled, and it hits the tarmac.
A vicious brawl breaks out among the men as they scrap for the phone. Blade watches for a moment and breathes a contented sigh. He turns away from the edge of the roof and heads towards the stairwell.