It’s a beautiful day in New York City, sun splitting the sky as only the faintest wisps of cloud floating overhead. The perfect sky is being looked at longingly through a window by Blade. He is not able to enjoy the weather, stuck inside a psychiatrist office, as he was ordered to go to by Chuck Myles. The grey walls are a stark contrast to the brilliant blue of the sky outside. The psychiatrist, Dr. Kurt Stone sits behind his desk, looking over Blade’s case file, reading it quietly, looking focused. Blade looks over the doctor to the wall full of diplomas and certificates, seemingly there to just serve the ego of the good doctor. Bored of the silence, Blade clears his throat and begins talking.
Blade:
So do I get to look at ink blots and tell you what I see?
Stone: You watch too many movies.
Blade shrugs as the psychiatrist takes reads the file and writes some notes. After a few moments of silence with Blade looking at the bizarre artwork upon the walls, the psychiatrist speaks.
Stone:
Do you know why you’re here?
Blade:
Because WZCW management’s latest solution for dealing with anyone unruly is to send them straight to a shrink. Big Dave got it last month, Showtime got it and I’m getting it this week. It’s like being in high school, and we’re the cool kids who do stuff that all the rest are curious about, like sex or drugs.
Stone:
You say it’s like high school, was high school hard for you?
Blade sighs.
Blade:
If you try to overanalyse everything, I’m walking right out of here.
The psychiatrist nods, looks down at his desk and writes a few more notes. Blade shifts in his chair impatiently
Stone:
I want to find out about you. I want you to separate Blade the wrestler from Blade the person.
Blade shakes his head and takes a sip of water. He frowns for a moment before answering.
Blade:
I... I don’t even know if I can do that anymore.
Stone:
Do you think there’s something wrong with you?
Blade:
I always have.
Blade lets out a forced laugh, but Stone keeps a completely straight face, looking directly into Blade’s eyes. Blade quickly silences himself.
Stone:
Chuck told me you’ve been a bit of a loose cannon over the last two months. What can you tell me about that?
Blade:
What do you want to do know?
Stone:
I suppose you could tell me where it all started.
Blade:
Well... I suppose it started in Dublin, during my autograph signing. I had decided after Lethal Lottery that I wanted... Needed a title. I wanted the EurAsian title because that’s the one I’d come closest to getting. I knew Beckford was the champion and I knew I could break him down, mentally. Make him weak, ripe for the picking. But I needed to do an experiment first.
Stone:
An experiment involving Beckford?
Blade:
An experiment involving myself. I had to find out how far I would go, how low I would stoop to get the mental edge over an opponent..
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The scene is 6 weeks ago, on the sunny Dublin. Blade is furious after his autograph signing was brought to a sober ending by the outspoken Baez fan. He’s pacing back and forth behind the scenes, with the organiser of the event apologising profusely.
Manager: I’m so sorry, Blade... He wasn’t wearing the mask when we let him in, we had no idea he’d try to stir up trouble...
Blade nods, accepting another apology before going for the back door.
Blade: I’m going out for a smoke. I’ll be back in five.
He opens the door into the back alley and takes out a cigarette. Just as he lights up, a familiar voice catches his ear. The voice of his heckler from ten minutes ago, around the corner talking to his friend.
Baez fan: So I stood up and basically told him he sucks! It was awesome!
Friend: That is awesome! Anyway, I gotta head home. I’ll see you at our lecture tomorrow.
Baez fan: Alright dude, take it easy.
Blade walks through the alley to the front of the shop, but stays around the corner, out of sight. The Baez fan and his friend go in opposite directions, with the Baez fan walking towards Blade, still wearing his mask. He goes past Blade and Blade grabs him by the neck and pulls him into the alley at the side of the bookshop, pinning him to the cold brick wall.
Blade: How dare you mock me? I could beat your ass right here and now.
Blade’s voice is quiet and calm, but the fan is literally shaking, the sweat trickling down and dripping out of the mask. Blade leans forward so that they’re nose to nose.
Blade: Now, I’m going to destroy your hero Baez on Meltdown. And once I do, I want you to tell all your nerdy pubescent friends that I am for real.
Blade loosens his grip from around the throat of the fan, but then violently rips the mask of the fan’s head. Blade looks at the mask with hate before looking back at the fan. But the fans’ expression makes Blade drop the mask out of surprise. There are tears in the fear filled, bright blue eyes of the fan. Blade lets go of him and takes a step back.
Blade: Just go...
The fan doesn’t move for a moment, until Blade shouts.
Blade: I said GO!
The fan hesitates for a moment before darting out of the alley. Blade crouches down and picks up the mask, smirking to himself.
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Stone:
So did you feel bad for the fan?
Blade:
Not really, why would I? But I’ve been playing that scene in my head since it happened, and it’s still as vivid as a movie. That was the turning point, I knew I couldn’t go back after that. I had walked through the doors of insanity, and they had shut behind me...
Stone:
So you walked further?
Blade:
The tip of the ice berg.
Stone:
So what happened next?
Blade:
I presented the mask to Bateman as a statement and he rewarded me, as if I was a dog bringing him a newspaper. Irritated as I was to have to do something like that to make him take notice that I could be money for him, I held my tongue. For then at least...
Stone:
Then what?
Blade:
I got the title shot that I desired. I was satisfied. Then it hit me that Chris Beckford was the champion and a fire was lit within me. Beckford was plain but plucky. Yet he didn’t deserve the title. It belonged to me, and I was going to destroy him to get it.
Stone:
Did you have a personal vendetta against Beckford? Did he wrong you in some way?
Blade:
Yes. He wronged me by having my title. I have nothing personal against him, but the man holding that EurAsian title is my greatest enemy. Beckford was just in the wrong place at the wrong time so to speak.
Blade takes out his cigarettes and looks at Stone.
Blade:
May I?
Stone:
You’re not supposed to, strictly speaking. But I doubt I’ll get much more out of you if I stop you smoking.
Blade:
Well, at least you understand smokers.
Stone:
Used to be one myself. But enough idle chatter, what did you do once you knew you were facing Beckford.
Blade stands up and walks toward the window and opens it up before lighting the cigarette and leaning out the window, the closest he’s been to enjoying the sun. He takes a long, deep drag and exhales out the window. He continues to speak, his back turned to Stone.
Blade:
Well the story continues two weeks later. A week before, I had officially accepted Beckford’s open challenge and the match was set. So I decided to tell him this during his match. Obviously there were no sinister intentions, I was just there to let him know. Beckford losing the match was a shock and I’m offended he believes I cost him the match on purpose....
Stone:
You know sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.
Blade:
That’s not true! ‘I know you are, but what am I?’ is the lowest form of wit!
Stone:
Could we keep on track please?!
Blade laughs to himself and looks below him at the park, where there are people talking, laughing and having picnics.
Blade:
I said Beckford was in the wrong place at the wrong time... Well, my next 'statement' came because I was in the right place at the right time...
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Blade is walking down the halls backstage, stretching his biceps before his match. Suddenly, he overhears a conversation involving a voice that lights a fire inside him, a fire of determination mingled with hatred: the voice of Chris Beckford being interviewed by Stacey Madison.
Madison: You could argue that a decent competitor should always keep a focus on the match regardless of the distractions around him...It's your own fault you lost.
Beckford: You're right it was, I shouldn't have let Blades distraction affect my performance and I won't let it happen again. If Blade wants to accept my open challenge for the EurAsian Championship then that's fine but I won't let his mind games work. That's why I showed up on Ascension last week, to show Blade that I am ready for him. We've had matches with each other before, and we're tied at 1-1 so I'm looking forward to facing him at Kingdom Come for the EurAsian Championship should I get there as Champion.
Blade snarls angrily upon hearing this.
Blade (to himself): He thinks the mind games won’t work? He lost to Brad Bomb in the first place because of my mind games. But if he wants to be in denial, I suppose I’ll have to force him to accept it.
He storms down the hallway with a sense of purpose, nothing around him distracting him. He bursts into the locker room and looks around swiftly. He spots a steel chair, sweeps the porcelain bowl and glass that he’d used for lunch off the chair causing them to smash on the ground. He picks up the chair, folds it angrily then leaves, a small trail of destruction left in his wake. He walks back down the halls, heading for the Gorilla position. He walks past Rebecca Serra, who looks startled by his expression.
Rebecca: Blade, where are you going? I wanted an interview!
Blade stops and turns his head slightly without looking at her.
Blade: I’m going to make Chris Beckford wish he had never accepted my challenge...
He continues walking, leaving Rebecca in a stunned silence.
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Stone:
But from what I’ve heard, you proceeded to attack Brad Bomb?
Blade turns back around and slowly walks back to his chair, nodding to Stone’s question.
Stone:
But why? After the match, Beckford was equally sore. He was there to take out and you went for Bomb.
Blade rubs the back of his neck and leans forward, staring into Stone’s eyes with intensity, speaking each word with emphasis, as if weighed out carefully.
Blade:
When I heard Beckford talk me down, in all of his denial, it frustrated me. People respect my talent, but I haven’t won a title in a year and a half in this company, and I’m a joke because of it. So when Beckford starting saying I wouldn’t win, I decided to stop treading with care to the dark side and instead I let go. I walked to the ring ,the chair in my hand, and I blasted Brad Bomb in the skull. While freaking Beckford out was the main reason behind the attack, I also had to take out my frustration somehow. If I hurt Beckford, then I wouldn’t get my shot. So by attacking Bomb, I got into Beckford’s head and took out my frustration. Two birds with one stone.
Stone:
I see.... That makes enough sense. So what came next?
Blade:
Well the next week, I was up against Sam Smith, a hungry young rookie, who’s determined to prove himself. But while he saw this match as his opportunity to be put on the map, I saw it as an opportunity to do more damage. Not to the WZCW roster, to Beckford’s psyche. It was also an opportunity to give Smith a reality check. His ego was running away with him, he was so convinced he could be me, that I would be his stepping stone to great things. But I am NO ONE’S stepping stone. So I had to send both him and Beckford a message...
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Blade is in his locker room. He has a two television set up, one replaying Beckford’s speech to the WZCW crowd after Ascension 27, the other showing what is happening live at the house show in the arena. He watches on angrily, cigarette in hand.
Beckford: So why did he do it? I had my back turned and if we know anything about Blade it's that he makes the most of the oppertunitys he's presented with so why didn't he attack me? What message did he send...That he can attack people with a steel chair when they've already been beaten? It doesn't matter what message he was sending it doesn't change anything. Blade you're a coward, you've been a coward you're whole career and look where it's gotten you...absolutely nowhere. You've been around forever and never won the big match, never held the main championships and never been appreciated by anybody who is anybody in this business. At Kingdom Come you have the chance to change that when you get in the ring with me but if you think for a second that you will...then your more deluded than I thought.
Blade begins muttering to himself quietly.
Blade: You disgust me Beckford...You bad mouth me, thinking you’re such a big man because you can hide behind your title belt. The title you don’t deserve, the title that you are disgracing with your lacklustre talent and mediocre performances. You make all these excuses for why you’re losing, blaming me for your first loss to Bomb when, in reality, I didn’t force you to get distracted. You just lost focus, a mistake that no true champion should make. You dare tell me I have never been appreciated by anybody in this business? I command respect! I bloodied the monster known as Karnage, I ended Zander Young’s career, I am the one who sent the invincible Titus on his crippling tail spin, which he still hasn’t recovered from, even since his return. Beckford, I’m going to make you wish you never became a wrestler... Tonight, I’m going after you.
Suddenly, the other screen catches Blade’s attention. Sam Smith, Blade’s opponent later in the week comes out to deliver a promo. Blade’s forgets Beckford for a moment and stares at the screen where Smith is speaking.
Smith: My determination is what separates me from Blade. Blade has lost sight of what is important. Hell, Blade used to be one of the guys I watched to get better. A guy I respected, and while I respect his ability, I certainly don't respect the man. His despicable actions have caused not only me, but all the guys in the back to look at him differently. He's a changed man... and sadly, he changed for the worse. You see, Blade has one major problem. He's power hungry.
Blade talks about his destiny to become the WZCW Heavyweight Champion and how people will fall at his feet. He will be the person that everyone is talking about and he will be the man to nestle his name amongst the very best that this business has to offer. He would join the likes of Joseph Rios, Everest, Titus and Ty Burna as one of the greatest Champions that this company has ever seen.
Blade sees himself lifting the championship belt and his name getting announced for the Hall of Fame. Blade sees all the fame and glory that lies on the other side of the winning three-count against Ty Burna. He sees his name in lights, ranked amongst the very best that the sport has to offer. He will be on top and nobody can take that away from him. He feels... entitled.
Again, so focused was he that he lost sight of what is important.
You see, I go out every week and put everything on the line for the match I am in. My eyes are not fixed on some distant future that might never happen. I go out to please the fans and make sure that when the bell at the end of the match is ringing, I am the one who stands victorious over my opponent with my hand raised high into the air. Too often has Blade had opportunities and blew them. He was put into the RWO and couldn't stick with it. He feuded with Phoenix and the more motivated man was shown to be Phoenix. Blade has had too many opportunities and has choked on them all. His sights are too firmly set on being Champion that I am going to take everything from him at Meltdown.
Blade is shocked at what he’s hearing. He stands up, fury across his face.
Blade: This rookie, this nobody dares question me!? I will never win the title I’m destined to win? Phoenix was the better man? I HAVE HAD ENOUGH!
He picks up the wooden coffee table placed in the centre of the room and hurls at the television. The television screen implodes in a flurry of glass shards as large electrical sparks burst from the set, almost threatening to set something on fire. He stands for a moment, amazed at his own actions before dropping to his knees, cold sweat dripping down his face, his hands shaking. He looks up and sees a steel chair in the corner of the room, the same dented steel chair he used on Brad Bomb two weeks ago. He slowly gets up and walks towards it. He strokes the top for a moment before picking it up and leaving the locker room.
Blade: I will MAKE you respect me...
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Blade has his head in his hands as he remembers those few minutes, one of the darkest moments in his life.
Blade:
I snapped... Broken and angry and lost, I snapped, lost in some kind of complete, perfect nothingness of emotion. If I hadn’t have seen Smith out there in the ring, I likely would’ve attacked Beckford. But fate was on my side and I happened to see the promo, and I went after Smith. And I hit him with the chair. I hit him and I kept hitting him. His pain brought such peace to my mind that I felt terrible things would happen if I didn’t. Smith made me snap... But he also saved me. I was right on the edge, and his words pushed me over. I fell and I fell until I was able to unleash what had been bubbling inside me. The years of doubt from myself and my peers, I didn’t want to try anymore. I wanted to destroy, to punish...
The words ring out in the room, so dark they feel like someone’s final words on their death bed. The psychiatrist does not know what to say and they sit in silence for a few moments, Stone staring at the top of Blade’s head as Blade stays leaned forward, his face in his hands. Suddenly Stone realises something and quietly speaks.
Stone:
You have a reputation for not caring what people think. Why did Smith’s words get to you like they did?
Blade finally sits up, his face pale.
Blade:
When I was growing up, I had it hammered into me by my family that I was going to be a champion. Hammered so hard, it got to the point where I can’t accept any other outcome. I did begin to wonder if this was truly my destiny, against everything I believe, and it is a conflict that has raged in me my whole career... But if it was only me questioning it, it didn’t bother me so much. And I’ve had other people question it, but I’ve silenced them... Something about what Smith said combined with what Beckford said... A reality I couldn’t face.
Blade looks up, his eyes blood shot and angry.
Blade:
I cannot lose at Kingdom Come. I have put everything into this, I’ve gone too far to go back. This is it... Everything or nothing for me, for my life. It might seem I have nothing to lose, but you have no idea... I’ve said it to you already, Beckford was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. He is the blank face holding the title that should be around my waist.
Stone:
It's strange... I happened to see the interview you had after you attacked Smith. You seemed... Normal. Calm, even.
Blade:
Because I was... With the emotions turned up to 11, you either collapse or you learn to control it. There is a moment during my attack on Smith that I smirked. I controlled all the emtions and damaged him like I've never damaged anyone. It'll undoubtedly shorten the career. I've turned that emotion into power, and I feel invincible.
Stone:
I... I see. But surely you’re simplifying it? What about the fact that Beckford has beaten you in the past?
Blade:
You answered your own question, that’s in the past. It means nothing now..
Stone:
What about the fact that Beckford’s mother has died?
Blade shrugs.
Blade:
A non-factor, simply an excuse for him to use when he loses.
Stone:
What about the...
Blade stands up, interrupting Stone.
Blade:
You don’t get it, do you?
He walks forward slowly, staring at Doctor Stone, who begins to look a little scared. Blade stops before his desk and slams his hands down onto it.
Blade:
When we are in the ring, nothing outside it matters. It’s just me, and the person who has my title, not Christopher Beckford. Even with all my self doubt, my conflict, I know that there is no way I or anyone else could do what I have done, go as far as I have without it having some greater meaning. I’ve gone on to a different psychological plain, where I can’t be followed. While all people see is me pushing Beckford to the edge, I have been pushing the mental and emotional boundaries with every disturbing act I have dished out over the last two months. I pushed myself further and further and I came out on the other side alive, in one piece. Beckford hit me with his finishing manoeuvre, I realised that I was going to beat him. My body hurt, but my mind was sharp. Inside, I was smiling. So when I reach Kingdom Come, my mind will be clear, clearer than Beckford’s has ever been, and I will destroy him. I will take the title that I rightly deserve. If he dares ask for a rematch, I will destroy him again. Because it is my destiny and it has finally arrived.
His voice drops to a barely audible yet intense whisper
Blade:
I’ve been through a very strange time in my life. I’ve done things that Beckford can’t even fathom, and because of it I can handle whatever is thrown at me. Beckford is tired, he’s week. This match doesn’t start at Kingdom Come. It started weeks ago. Mentally, this wrestling match has been going on for this whole saga and I’ve been winning. The physical part of this match is the ending. And I just have to finish him off.
The psychiatrist is stunned and speechless. Blade straightens up and breaks the gaze with Stone. He looks out at the beaming sun one last time and turns to leave.
Blade:
I’m sorry, our time is up.
He walks out the door without Stone protesting and walks down the hall. As he leaves the building, one more memory shoots through his mind, a memory he didn’t mention within the confines of the office...
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Blade is standing in dark clothes, including his usual black trenchcoat and shades outside a church. The sky is grey and there is a cold wind passing through the area. Blade is on the phone, speaking quietly.
Blade: So my appointment with the therapist is tomorrow. Ok. Thank you.
He hangs up the phone and picks up the bouquet of violets that are on the ground beside his feet. He walks towards the church, where there are various people standing around. He walks up to the priest and shakes his hand.
Blade: Hello Father. Unfortunately I’m not going to be able to attend the service, but I would be most appreciative if you could give these to Chris.
Priest: Yes, of course.
Blade: Thank you.
He turns and walks away. The priest brings the flowers into the church and places them down. A small white card is placed within the flowers with Blade’s handwriting scrolled across it:
Enjoy this day, Chris. After Kingdom Come, you will wish you feel only as bad as you do now.
- Blade
