Static roars on screen. It is loud, blinding and all around disturbing. Its tone rings in our ears, deafening us before suddenly an image blazes on our screen for a moment, a figure familiar to us all. His face is dastardly and his smirk is borderline satanic and then it disappears, the static dying, but the ringing living on. We enter darkness.
It is black, encompassing the entire screen with its vast emptiness. It is not silent however. Far from it in fact as a capacity crowd in the All State Arena in Chicago cry with a mixture of emotions. There are those who are overjoyed, those who are delighted and those who are excited. And then, there are those who are angry; oh so very angry. And they outnumber the happy ones by some considerable distance. Then, we cut to picture. No fade, no warning, just a straight cut into an image. One image, burned into the hearts and souls, the eyes and ears and the minds of every single person who witnessed it live and on delay. Those who viewed the video, caught the photo or watched as events unfolded, they all have this one single image forever stuck in their brain. It has achieved a feat only God may equal. It has achieved omnipotence. And the image in question? It is the embrace, fuelled by passion, driven by desire and accomplished through dastardly means. It is the first kiss. It is the moment of insanity come to light. It is Celeste Crimson and Steven Holmes. It is wretched and they love it. Then, we cut to black. Again there is no warning or declaration, just the echo of a monstrous reaction ringing in our ears.
Suddenly, we fade in. It is slow, but progress is steady. The image is blurred but we can make out colours. There is black and gold, the darkness falls and the visuals become clearer. Four letters are imbedded at the head of the image; W-Z-C-W. As we pull out, we are able to get a more detailed icon; it is the WZCW World Heavyweight Championship. It sits on a red, velvety cloth, propped up, facing outwards. As we pull further back, we catch some glare off the championship, except it isnt the belt itself, but rather something in front of it; the title is encased is a glass box. It is on display as if a trophy won to be hung in a museum. We continue to pull out as a voice breaks through this display:
???: Ravishing is it not?
As we pull out, a familiar individual wearing a suit is seen. His identity need not remain a secret as he is known to all now that he has achieved his goal. He is the face we saw at the start. He is known as conqueror, king, God, though perhaps most famously as The Elite. He is the new World Heavyweight Champion. He is Steven Holmes.
Holmes: It is almost as beautiful as the woman who was last seen wielding it.
We cease pulling out as we catch a toothy grin from the pearly whites of Holmes. He is, unusually, alone. There is no Erik and no Celeste as one might have predicted. Instead Holmes shares the spotlight with only his gold, and even that is out of reach.
Holmes: You may well be wondering, where are Celeste Crimson and Erik Holmes? Where are my weapons of justice? Where are my left and right hands? Well I need them not for this broadcast. Instead I wished to address you personally, privately even, so as to acquaint you all with the newest status quo. My relationship with Celeste Crimson shall be addressed, but not on this platform and not in this arena. Instead I will do so on a far more...royal stage. From hence forth I shall direct your attention to what lies behind me.
Reaching his arm out with pointed fingers, Holmes motions to the championship gold on display behind him.
Holmes: This championship is the symbol that WZCW has been built upon. When Titus unified the original championship with the so-called Real World Championship, this design took its place. It symbolised the coming of a new age. Now, today, some three years on from the original introduction of this design, one might assume that I, given my past history with championships, would cast this title out in favour of something more streamlined, something more personal. That is not the case though. For if you listened to my prophetic words, you will come to realise that I have mentioned a throne. This throne is designed for a chosen one to sit upon and much like Arthur and the sword in stone; only the true heir may take it rightfully. Thus we have seen paper champions rise and naturally we have seen them all fall.
That championship was awarded to Titus on the same episode of Meltdown from which I debuted. I am not a fan of destiny. I am not a believer in divine fate. I am a man, who believes we forge our own paths, and we are our own Gods, but it was on that day that I swore to myself that the beauty would be mine. It was on that day that I told myself that omnipotence would be mine. I knew I would be king. I knew only the true heir would take the seat as it was designed and I am that heir.
Holmes turns his gaze to the championship. He marvels at it, the prize he has won. He begins to reach out to touch it. He stretches with his fingers extended forth. He moves in closer with each second, but with mere millimetres between himself and the grandest title of all, he recoils. He closes his eyes, as if to reassure himself. The usual, menacing grin creeps back onto Holmes face, knowing what awaits him.
Holmes: So it is written, so it shall come to pass.
The hand recoils totally and his arm returns to him, the moment of temptation passing. His blood-soaked intentions retract, for the moment at least.
Holmes: In front of his wife and child I brutalised and bullied David Cougar into defeat. I left him a senseless cadaver, dazed, confused and broken. I sent him into the ground through my own abilities, through the sword of justice and through the shield of destruction. Erik and Celeste, my family, they rendered him inept and I ruled over him,. But it was merely an exclamation point. I have reached the summit through brutality, murderous intent and deeds not previously thought imaginable. I beat a man to a bloody pulp, rendering him moment from death for the sake of pride and making a statement. I have stabbed allies in the back and they have in turn done the same to me. I have won gold and lost it in equal measure. It has been an arduous journey. I am wounded, beaten, ground down and yet still I march on. I have risen above the clouds. My body has been battle tested and prepared and all that remains is for me to sit upon my throne and look upon my kingdom. The blood baths are over as an heir, my existence is fleeting. And from that fleeting existence will emerge a God who will make his throne above the heavens and be reborn to rule forever more. Omnipotence is mine.
As is becoming a pattern, Holmes bears teeth, but he doesnt just stop there this time, instead a rumble emerges from inside; a laugh. It isnt just a mere chuckle or a jaunty belly laugh, but instead it explodes from out of Holmes like an almighty geyser. He has held it in for so long and now it explodes forth; this is the moment where he allows himself to say I told you so. Then, as is runs out of steam, the laugh quietens before eventually leaving Holmes body forever. The past is the past and now, the future is the future.
Holmes: What marks such moments in our history dear friends? Well as Ive taken a likening to mentioning it, when Titus was awarded the championship, he afforded a ceremony and that is what Steven Holmes too shall have. Not a ceremony to award myself the glory or even to allow a respected member of the WZCW hierarchy to bestow upon me the title. No, instead the occasion will have a truly regal touch to it. It will be elegant, it will be grand. It will be, well, distinctly British. It will be a coronation worthy of your new God. I will sit upon my throne, my angel of justice and queen on one side and to the other, my blood and devilish destroyer. Together we form a holy trinity and then and there will you see the championship, encased in glass behind me, worn by yours truly. I will at that stage allow myself to wear the symbol of my God-hood. And you are all invited to Meltdown to view it. But the festivities shall not end there. Far from it.
Holmes hands rub together, the anticipation rising. His lips are moistened as his tongue creeps out to soak up the moment further. It slithers back into his mouth as he continues.
Holmes: On Ascension 63 you will all be treated to another event befitting your new ruler. You will witness as I revisit the past a pluck from it one of my greatest foes, arguably one I have never truly defeated. I will do combat with Matt Tastic, formerly known as Baez, formerly known as the Killjoy.
Nodding, Holmes smile disappears as he remembers their collisions and brawls over Mayhem gold and beyond. He recalls it all from the Crashin Movement to being trapped under a ladder that sealed his fate in their strap match battle. And then he looks onwards, to the future.
Holmes: I will right a wrong which haunts me to this day and I will bleed him to stain my new sword. I will rise to guide my people on the quest to enter the glorious kingdom and rise higher than ever before. I will have his head on a pike and parade it around for all to see. I will not allow him to entertain any notions of defeating me. I will rise above his returning bravado and I will use him as an example that will follow as we march together on castle Callahan and take it down brick by bloody brick if need be. Thats right; dont think Im forgetting about you Drake.
A creepy, eerie grin rises on Holmes face. Like the tide turns, so has Holmes. His lips curl upwards to form this serpentine smirk. He appears to sneer and even hiss as the smile dies.
Holmes: Kingdom Come V will be a moment in time that will eclipse even my capturing of the title. It will be the sight of my biggest, most brilliant and mind-blowing victory to date. It will be the day that I finally grind you into the dirt where you belong. It is the moment where your destruction becomes complete, because from this moment forth, I am coming for you. There is nowhere to run. There is nowhere to hide. Drake Callahan, I will destroy your villages, I will rape your women and I will bring you to your knees before eviscerating you and separating your skull from your body. Time ticks by Drake, and come Kingdom Come, it will be up.
Holmes unfastens what appears to be an extremely expensive wrist watch. He holds it for all to see and then, after we take a long look at it, he drops it. Then, in a swift motion, he stomps on it, shattering the precious accessory to bits. He grinds his foot to ensure its destruction. A foul expression crosses his face.
Holmes: Another pretender will fall. Remember, Aristocracy Reigns now and forever.
Holmes prepares to storm, away and in the midst of doing so, the static abruptly, and violently returns to deafen and disturb in equal measure. This chapter is over, but another is just beginning...
