Lethal Lottery V: Lethal Lottery Match

[Kermit]

30 Participants

1 Winner

You Do the Math​

Deadline is Thursday, May 9, 2013 at 11:59 P.M. (Central Time). Soft Extensions Only.

Note: Do NOT RP in this thread if you are already RPing for another match (that RP will be considered for this match as well). If you are not RPing for another match, submit your RP in this thread.​

 

[Johnny Scumm]

Anything Can Be Lethal.
​

July 18th, 1994

“You see, they tell me that my eyes glaze over when it happens, which is why it must end up being that much of a blur to me Doc.”

“Well Mr. Sullivan, you’re only a young man, this sort of thing should not be happening to you at this age. 17 years of age isn’t the youngest, but is one of the youngest I’ve heard of causing this much damage to one person.”

In an office painted plain white, with nothing but a desk and two chairs in it, sit a young Michael Sullivan, opposite a woman. The woman has long brown hair, glasses, blue eyes, but what Sullivan notices the most is that she’s not dressed like a professional. She’s dressed up like your normal everyday man or woman may dress. Sweater, jeans and sneakers. She’s also nameless, no name badge, and no nothing. In their first meeting, Sullivan is working on limited information.

“Not really the outfit of Doctor’s, is it?”

That’s what Sullivan is thinking, but on the outside, his face is a lot stonier, with almost no expression.

“I wish I could explain it Doc...”

“Please, call me Laura”

Finally, 10 minutes later, a name. So, who is Dr. Laura? Why is Michael Sullivan, the man who went on to become one of the most famous Rockstars in the US and the man who went on to become WZCW Superstar, Thrash, sitting with a Doctor?

“Fine, Laura. I can’t explain why I do what I do because I barely even know that I’m doing it. A fit of rage hits me and that’s about it for me, and once it’s over, I feel normal again.”

“Ok, well take me through this last one Michael. What happened that you remember?”

Sullivan stands up and moves over to a window, as he starts to stare out of it.

“I’m sitting in my lesson, everything’s fine. Chemistry, not my favourite subject, but who does enjoy it?”

Laura smiles, it’s about all she can conjure up in a situation like this.

“Anyway, Ryan and Alex are sitting a couple of rows behind me. I’ve had a few problems with Alex before, but we’ve both changed recently and we’re good friends now. From behind me, I hear my name mentioned by Alex. He’s telling Ryan what he thinks about my new song that I’m writing and Ryan starts playing the Joker, taunting Alex about me and him being “gay” and that he’s figured out what we’re really doing when we go to “The Music Room”. So I’m trying to pay attention to what I’m learning, but all I can hear are these bullshit comments from that bastard Ryan behind me and I’m anything but smiling. There’s a test-tube on the desk in front of me, which I remember picking up and smashing the end of against the desk in rage.”

”Was the test-tube something you used against Ryan?”

“I stood up, the tube was in my pocket, the sharp ends sticking out and being covered over with my shirt. I asked him about what he was saying and he starts to deny it all, calling me a liar. He tries to get in my face, but Alex tries to hold him back.”

Michael sits up on the windowsill and brings his knees up into his body, putting his arms around them.

“That was where it got nasty. Ryan starts to taunt me, “Look at you Alex, protecting your lover!”, so I grabbed the tube out of my pocket and swiped it against his face a couple of times. I remember him going crazy and me launching myself at him.”

“You remember nothing else?”

“Not a single moment Doc… I mean, Laura. Like I told you, everyone says my eyes glaze over, like I become some kind of psycho. I just start to unleash everything onto that one person.”

Sullivan gets down from the windowsill and moves back into his chair. Laura is making notes in her book that clearly says “Patients” on the front of it.

“Well Mr. Sullivan, I think that you may need to change your ways. I can’t tell you how to do it, because everything that you do is technically your own fault. What I can say is that there is no need for any of your outbursts, especially when you put a fellow college-mate in Hospital. You’re lucky that you haven’t been arrested for this Michael, there will always be a severe risk that one day, you’ll end up killing somebody. If not killing somebody, then extremely ruining their lives. I would suggest therapy sessions, but they’re not for you. What you need to do, is find something to focus your positive side on, like your music. You mentioned to me about your songs, why don’t you focus on them? Form a band? If not forming a band, just find somebody to play with, anything that will keep you from these fits of rage.”

“Like I said, I can’t help these, so I don’t ever know when they’re gonna happen to me. If people wanna start to piss me off, then they’re probably gonna end up getting hurt, it’s the way that I seem to work. But my music is my greatest passion; I can always try and put that to good use.

Laura stands up out of her chair, as does Sullivan. The session is over, as short as it was. They shake hands and Laura gently smiles at him.

“You do that Michael. I can see bright things for you if you learn how to control yourself.”

“Thanks.”

With that word, Michael Sullivan leaves the room. The outbursts never did seem to come back, but a dark hole filled the mind of Sullivan through the years, a hole that grew bigger when he had to leave his band “Dirty Angels”.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

April 25th, 2013

In his Nevada apartment, Sullivan, now going by his WZCW name Thrash, sits up in bed, his eyes almost teary.

“I promised I’d change.”

He swings his body round and gets out of bed, slowly. He starts to make his way to the bathroom, taking his usual morning leak.

“Laura, what a girl she was. All the times she made me feel better about myself and I don’t even have her anymore. But my mind is in a clearer place, or am I just kidding myself?”

He moves to his bathroom cabinet, opening it up. Inside are multiple pill bottles, all labelled up with “Anti Depressant” on the front. He pops one of the bottles open, taking a couple of pills out. Grabbing the glass from the side of the sink and filling it a quarter of the way with water, he pops the two pills in his mouth, swigs some water and swallows them down.

“Well, at least now my mind’s clear. For a few hours.”

He stares at himself in the mirror and laughs apathetically.

“I’ll tell you Thrash, I hate taking those things, but right now, they’re the only things that keep me smiling. Last week, I fell victim to that attack from the Carnival of Carnage and that really put me down. My body felt pain like it hadn’t felt pain before and my emotions drained. Why would two men take a beating like that to you for no reason? Look at me; I’m confiding in myself now, I should shut the hell up.”

He laughs again before exiting the bathroom and running downstairs as in the distance, the phone is ringing. Just in time, he manages to grab the phone to answer it.

“Hello?”

He starts walking around the house, moving things into place as the voice on the other end starts to respond.

“Yeah, I promised you I’d be there for the shows, I’ll be there! Just because the Carnival of Carnage took me out doesn’t mean that I’m not showing up! I’m not wrestling, but that doesn’t stop me watching Mr Bateman.”

He sits down on the couch.

“The Lethal Lottery? Yeah, I’d love to be in it… Oh. Well, I’m gonna try to be in it then. That would be my returning match after my couple of week’s break, so it’d be the perfect time to make an impact!”

He stands up again, obviously agitated by what he’s hearing from Vance Bateman on the phone.

”Ok Mr. Bateman, I’ll see you at the arena later on if I can for Meltdown, bye.”

Thrash ends the call between him and Bateman, only to start dialling a number immediately afterwards. He waits as it rings.

“Hey Alex! Look, I know I said I was gonna be at your gig this weekend, but the General Manager wants me to come watch the shows, get some idea of what I might be up against at the Lethal Lottery, you up for it?”

Putting the phone on speaker so that he can lift a box, Thrash puts the phone down on the bookcase and we can hear Alex Sandro talking to him.

“I’m up for it, but I gotta do the show as well Mike! I can do two shows, but I ain’t gonna be able to make it for the first one, alright?”

Shouting a little bit being so far away, Thrash tries to respond.

“That’s cool! I’ll see you for Ascension and Aftershock and if I can, I’ll try to make one of your shows! I really need to watch everyone else though, just to see what people are going to be like to face at the Lottery!”

”Actually, that’s a point I’ve got, what the hell’s the Lethal Lottery?!”

“Dude, it’s a thirty man match, all done in the Battle Royal style, where the last guy standing after the other 29 have been eliminated wins. The winner gets a shot at the WZCW Heavyweight Championship at Kingdom Come, which is WZCW’s biggest show!”

“Haha, now I can see why you’d rather be watching some wrestling this weekend then man! Look, I’ll see you sometime this weekend; it’ll be pretty awesome to catch up since you got attacked by the CoC. Damn… that name’s really gonna make for some good dick jokes in the future right?”

“It doesn’t need to make dick jokes, because the CoC are dicks that are jokes. Quite simple if you ask me Al!”

Sandro laughs, through the phone it comes out static and noisy.

“How are your bumps and bruises holding up anyways? That beating looked pretty nasty, I gotta say!”

“Well, I’m not fighting this week for that reason, I don’t wanna make myself anymore hurt than I already am. Bateman’s been good to me letting me sit this round out, but I’m doing pretty well for myself. I’ve been hitting the Gym, building up some resilience, but there’s a damn shoulder pain that’s been getting me everyday.”

“Look, just take it easy T, and you’ll be good for anything that ends up coming your way! I’m gonna have to shoot man, or I’ll be late for rehearsals. I’ll catch you this weekend then down at the arena!”

”Sounds good to me, I’ll see you down there.”

Thrash grabs the phone and ends the second call of the past 5 minutes. He runs upstairs and starts to sort out some clothes for himself, Meltdown’s tonight. The next few days for Thrash are going to be a lot busier than he originally planned.


----------------------------------------------------------------------

February 2nd, 1998

Onstage with his band “Dirty Angels”, Michael Sullivan is belting out one of their hits, “Do What Ya Want”. All of a sudden, a guy jumps onto the stage and attempts to start partying with the band. Mike calls for to cut the song as the guys stops, moving in to argue with Sullivan.

“Hey man, what’s the problem?!” *Sullivan looks out to the crowd* “If you wanna party, you party with everyone else!”

The crowd cheer for Michael as he tells the invading fan where to go, but the fan doesn’t listen. He starts shouting at Sullivan, right in his face.

“Come on, I’ve told you where to go! You’re ruining the show for everyone that’s down there, making a helluva load of noise for us, by being completely selfish. Not to mention, you’re really starting to piss me off.

The fan isn’t taking it anymore. Obviously drunk and annoyed that nobody wants to party with him, the fan pushes Sullivan, who goes falling back into the Drums. A look of pure anger comes over the face of Michael, who jumps up in pain with his microphone in his hand.

“Security! Get this asshole outta here right now!”

The crowd start to cheer Sullivan who has finally taken control of this situation. Security get up on stage and take hold of the man who ruined the show, dragging him down a few stairs and into the small gap between the stage and the crowd barricade. Somehow, the man manages to turn around while in security’s hold and starts yelling “Fuck you Mike, FUCK YOU!” Sullivan’s face seems to build even angrier, taking on an expression not seen since his teen years.

“Hey, security, I’ve changed my mind! I’ve got a better idea for this scumbag.”

Security stop in their tracks and turn around, waiting to see what Sullivan has in mind. Before they get a chance to focus their gaze on him, Michael Sullivan leaps off of stage, his microphone in hand, directing the base into the forehead of the fan. Sullivan starts to shout at the man who angered him, beating the microphone into his skull even more. Security are trying to stop him from hurting the man even more, but the rage of Sullivan makes him relentless. He gets up from beating him with the microphone, leading into kicking him in the gut and stomping on his face. Finally, security manage to pull Sullivan far away enough to give the fan room to recover.

“You wanna come and screw up my show?! Well, I’m gonna make sure you don’t forget what you done"


----------------------------------------------------------------------

April 27th, 2013.

“Dude, wake up!”

Thrash starts to open his eyes and to his right is Alex Sandro, his former band-mate. They’re in the car, on the way to go and watch Aftershock after having already sat through Meltdown and Ascension the previous two nights.

“What? How long have I been out for?”

“About thirty minutes, we’re pretty much at the arena now.”

“Ha, the past two nights really have taken it out of me. Oh well, last show to go, it’s been interesting so far. These guys really aren’t going to give up when it comes to the Lottery, it’s going to be one fight, that’s for sure. Not to mention, if I come out too early, it could all be over instantly!”

“Thrash, you gotta think positively! Everyone has strengths and weaknesses, you just have to figure out what’s what and then use that to your advantage. Take Saboteur for example, that suit he wears doesn’t really give him a great vision. If he’s near the ropes and you’re behind him, there’s no way he’ll catch you if he doesn’t know you’re there!”

“You’re right Alex, but when the Lottery comes around, I’ll take it into my hands and deal with it then. Look, we’re here now, let’s get in, get seated and enjoy the show! Bateman’s allowing us to go and watch in Gorilla tonight, seeing as Aftershock’s got the Carnival of Carnage on it.”

“Gorilla? We’re watching Monkeys?”

“Yeah, I forget you’re not a wrestler sometimes. Gorilla is the place we stand around and wait just before our match. However, there’s also a screen up so anyone can go along and watch somebody else’s match. We’ll be back there.”

“Can I?-“

“And yes Alex, you can meet the other wrestlers.”

The two men get out of the car and walk into the arena, Thrash stopping to sign a few autographs along the way. They walk through the back and into Gorilla where the screen is. Sandro finds it to be one of the most awesome things he’s ever seen, but Thrash’s eyes rarely come off of the screen as he watches everything closely. Having just watched a promo between Grand Mystique and Mikey Stormrage, he begins to watch the tag match that is Grizzly Bob & Jimmy Flynn vs Carnival of Carnage. Everytime the CoC make a move on the opposite team that isn’t legal, Thrash starts to get frustrated at the cheating nature of this team.

Blaze jumps in and hits the back of Flynn. We see Grizzly Bob trying to get into the ring as quick as possible, but Blaze notices this and runs back to his corner, jumps over the ropes, and lands on the outside apron. Bob runs over to confront him, but Blaze holds up his hands innocently. The referee tries to subdue Bob and push him back to his corner. Bob just points and yells at Blaze as he backs up into his corner. Blaze smiles and wipes back his hair as he looks out at the crowd.

Thrash clenches one of his fists, he’s not happy at the way the CoC think they can act. Suddenly, Blaze is beating down Grizzly Bob with a steel chair and Thrash’s face turns red.

“Alex, wait here, I need to go and do something.”

Sandro doesn’t know what’s happening but as he looks at the screen while CoC beat down both Flynn and Bob, but all of a sudden, he’s seeing Thrash running into the ring. An angry Thrash is beating Hunter and Blaze down by himself and then, Bob and Flynn join in on the beating! The three men take the initiative over the CoC, making them look weak in the process.

“Come on Thrash, kick their asses!”

Sandro is extremely happy as he watches Bob, Flynn and Thrash all leave the ring. A few minutes later, Thrash comes back to see Sandro. The two men start laughing and talking about what just happened and carry on watching the show, enjoying all of the matches. The last match is an Over The Top Rope match, which Thrash knows will be great experience for him. Just watching isn’t all that happens though, as he ends up getting involved in the end of show brawl in the centre of the ring. After the brawl ends, Thrash makes his way backstage again to meet up with Sandro once more.

“Dude, what happened to coming to watch?!”

“I can’t tell, earlier on I was angry as hell, Carnival of Carnage didn’t have to do anything that they done earlier to those guys.”

“Yeah, but why the fighting?”

“It’s better I don’t go into that. Anyway, what a show! Next up… Lethal Lottery. Possibly the biggest match of the year coming up in just two weeks time. Can I win it? Well, anything’s possible.”

“If you act the way you did against the Carnival of Carnage earlier on tonight, you could beat 29 men in one match, even if they were all against you!”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right Alex. Maybe, some anger is what I need to win the Lottery. Maybe it’s what I need, to outlast 29 other men in the match to go on and face either Showtime or Holmes at Kingdom Come for the WZCW Heavyweight Championship. The thing is, 30 men will grace that ring, just during the Lethal Lottery match, but only one will be left standing and I promise you Alex, that it will be me.”

“That’s what I’m talking about, this is the kind of Thrash that I want to see everyday, not that sissy negative one!”

“Well, then that’s just the way I might have to be at the Lottery. Especially if those pricks, the Carnival of Carnage, come down to the ring and try to face off with me. If they take one step too far, it’s a quick “For Whom The Bell Tolls”, followed by a throw over the top rope, simple elimination. Or, they can go even further and well… they probably won’t be able to walk to the back, they’ll need some help moving. You see Alex, when it comes down to it, anything can be lethal.”

Thrash turns away from Alex, facing his hands.

“Come the Lethal Lottery, that’s going to be me”.

 

[Bernkastel]

It was a rainy evening on a Saturday; the sky was cloudless, as the new moon cast no shadows on the city below. The haze from the streetlights reached into the heavens covering downtown Sacramento with a soft yellow glow. A few miles from the downtown districts on the upside of the suburbs lay a large modern house with contemporary flare. It was large, with two levels, with many windows decorating the sides, which grabbed the light and pulled it inside. One really couldn’t tell by looking at it, but from the parapet on the left side of the house leading down to the balcony below the entire wall had since been replaced after being swallowed up by an electrical fire. The interior was white washed, the architect being more concerned with function rather than style; but to the untrained eye the style seemed intrinsically lavish and almost futuristic. So many good memories had painted these walls; the stories they could tell. However all that changed in one night several weeks ago.

‘No matter how hard I try I can’t get that sight out of my head.’ Celeste thought to herself as she stared into her bathroom mirror.

‘The thought of Laxus with another woman makes me sick to my stomach. There was a time that I wasn’t a good wife to him, but I did my best to make it up to him. So many happy memories we made together, were discarded in the blink of an eye.’

She couldn’t stand looking at herself anymore, the bedroom they had once shared was now empty – no more clothes thrown everywhere, no more messy bed sheets, and no more scent that reminded her that he was present. Now the bed was covered in some old sheets that collected dust. She walked out of the room and was about to walk down the stairs but something kept her from stepping forward. She turned and looked down the hall, giving herself tunnel vision; with a heavy heart she began to wobble towards the room that had once belonged to her young son as if being willed by some unseen force. She peered inside; all that she could see now was an empty room.

‘He got custody in the divorce. Because of all the time I spend on the road, I can’t devote the time to raise him properly. My dream I worked so hard to achieve cost me my son.’

She couldn’t take it anymore and broke down into sobs, cursing the heavens and fate for dealing her such a bad hand. It was so hard to trudge forward when the most precious thing in life had been taken from her. Instinctively she cradled her abdomen; just 5 short years ago she had life growing inside of her – never had she felt such love and never had she felt such pride. It exceeded everything else she had ever experienced. Once Nero was born, those feelings only grew stronger. Her tears overflowed and spilled onto the carpet; the empty spaces that were once occupied by furniture were now discolorations on the beige carpet.

‘Such a happy home ruined after so many years of mistakes.’

She got up and made her way down the hall and down to the second floor. She walked past the kitchen and to the living room. The fire was going in the fireplace that she had lit earlier. She grabbed a bottle of vodka and a glass out of the liquor cabinet and made her way to the couch. Looking down she saw one of her old photo albums she had gotten out days before. She poured herself a glass and drank it down before pouring another. She opened the album and began rummaging through the photos; most were of her, her husband, and her son as they used to be – a happy family. She shut the book, and placed it aside. Was this fate swinging the hammer of justice down on her for the sins she committed years ago? That was a sickening prospect that was slowing driving her to drink till she puked. She glanced at the fire, listening to it crackle and burn.

‘What kind of mother can I be when I don’t even get to see my baby? I feel claustrophobic all alone in this big house; I can’t sleep. I’m starting to go mad having to come back here.’

She chuckled at that absurdity, ‘And yet I couldn’t stay away. I’m like a dog abandoned by its master, having returned to the one place it could call home hoping that its owner would return. I wished silently that Laxus would return and beg me for forgiveness.’

She continued to drink the vodka, her glass now filled with a mixture of potent alcohol and salty tears. She was starting to feel woozy. She had done this ritual once before having come home after a tour to find the house dark and empty. She couldn’t sleep in her bed; the shadows would dance around her in a mocking fashion as if daring her to rise against them. In the divorce the house was the only thing she retained. A house that love built, but hatred and betrayal renovated. She hadn’t felt this crushed since her mother died years ago. To be miserable, was that what it meant to be a knight of justice? She supposed that it would be impossible to judge others while her greatest treasure remained intact. The remorse of losing that treasure had been the catalyst to open her eyes to the truth; she had been enlightened, now nothing could stop her, right? She had to slow down, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach. And so began another ritual of drinking herself to sleep. She dropped the glass onto the floor and promptly blacked out on the couch.

‘In my dreams I can see your face, Laxus. I can’t stop my mind from overflowing the memories, even when my body can’t react.’

The world around her began to spin and suddenly Celeste found herself in a house she didn’t recognize. It was large and elaborate; like a palace. She glanced at the walls and ceiling, all were ordained in the finest decorum; purple and silver drapes covered the windows, while a large crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, its skeletal arms reaching down to embrace the floor. She looked down at the table before her; it was an elaborate spread with food of all kinds.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” asked a voice.

Celeste looked up to see a man cloaked in shadows to the point where she couldn’t make out his face at all, but one thing was for certain; this man wasn’t Laxus. Their first date had been a romp around the park, as they sat and chatted and got to know each other better. They fed the ducks, went on a boat ride, and had dinner at a hot dog stand. This setting was unlike anything she had ever seen. What the hell was going on?

“Yes,” she replied. “I’m just feeling a tad bit overwhelmed.”

The man smiled, or at least it looked like he did. “Don’t be; what’s mine is yours…”

The man stood from his chair and slowly made his way over to her. He stopped before her and reached out and lightly grabbed her chin, pulling her face upwards.

“…And what’s yours is mine.”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet as she gasped in surprise. Looking down her clothes had changed – she was wearing a white evening gown with golden trim as the stranger wore a black tuxedo; his face was still shrouded in shadows. Forcefully he pulled her into an embrace and they started to dance. It was a waltz, and the strange man controlled every step. Her fear gave way to delight even though she was a puppet on his strings. The man was an expert, and his sultry movements made her insides tingle. The tempo increased as they began to move faster and faster. She started to sweat just a little, the heat of their bodies nearly making the perspiration evaporate. She felt so invigorated, and when he dipped her that’s when she saw it… his eyes flashed liked diamonds. They were gorgeous, and she immediately became entranced. He spun her around and caught her gracefully. Suddenly she pulled herself away as her heart began to pound in her chest.

‘What is this feeling? This man…. is he… could he be? No one has ever made me feel this way, except Laxus.’

The man grabbed her by the hand and reeled her in close. She could feel his soft breath on the nape of her neck, and she watched in surprise as he swatted the cutlery from the table, the glasses and porcelain plates shattering on the ground. In one swift movement he grabbed her and pinned her body against the table. She looked up at his face in shock; she didn’t know what to do. She tried to fight him off but he reached down and pressed a finger to her lips.

“You are no mere pawn in this game, Celeste. You are my queen, my rose, my intoxication.”

His breath bit like fire and smelled just like ash. She turned her head and tried to put on a brave face. It was lies; all of it. This man sounded just like Laxus when he proposed; and yet the cruel arm of fate had shattered that fantasy.

“I’m not a fool for lust; my love left me for someone else. He abandoned me, took my treasure and my heart as well.”

Tears began to well up in her eyes as the man released her. What she wanted most of all was justice done and vengeance taken upon herself for allowing all this to happen. The pain she felt was unimaginable; ironic as she could feel no physical pain at all. The man stepped forward to comfort her, and brushed the hair off her face. She looked up into those shimmering diamond eyes of his and felt comfort. It was unexplainable. He reached up and wiped the tears from her eyes.

“That’s enough of that. I know how strong you are. Give yourself to me and I will make all that pain and suffering you feel disappear. The wounds on your heart will begin to heal.”

She pulled away from him, “The treasure that I lost is not something that you can just replace; all the riches in the world mean nothing if I can’t be with him.”

The man’s expression did not change and like a pillar he remained steadfast, “Maybe not right away, but you envision yourself being happy again right? One day your treasure will return to you, of that I promise.”

She looked up at him unsure of what to say. He pulled her in close and kissed her in a sudden embrace. She turned away once more. Her heart had already been broken once; she was vulnerable, she was delicate, and like a plucked flower swaying in the wind she could easily be swept up into another tornado of unhappiness.

“Fate has not been kind to me,” she said. “I feel as if the only release that I will find will come when others feel the same pain that I do-"

“Because fate has punished you for your sins in the past,” the man interrupted.

He grabbed her chin and pulled her face towards his again. She stared up into those eyes and she lost herself again. A sea of elation, of calm, and of security swallowed her up; the waves of promises of a new life with her son where she didn’t have to worry about losing him came crashing down on top of her. The man’s spirit was unwavering and his tenacity was just as rigid as hers.

“If it is your turn to swing the sickle, then do so in the name of the king. Send everyone else to the bottom of the abyss if you’d like, but to do so effectively you’ll need a purpose… and I will give it to you. Become my queen, and I will give you everything that you could possibly desire.”

She couldn’t move; she was caught in the embrace of those eyes. Something felt weird, something felt wrong, but everything about this man seemed safe. Her heart was yelling at her to go for it, and be happy once again while her mind remained cautious. Was she really ready for another relationship? Could she handle the stress, and the expectations, and the commitment? She was committed to serving justice, and no man was immune to justice, except for God. Was this man a figment of her imagination, or was he a representation of a higher being?

“What do you want me to do?” she asked. “Serve my ambitions, or be faithful to your commitments.”

The man smiled, “A god is immune to justice, and only the righteous can understand that. Serve your ambitions, but remain loyal onto to me, for I hold the divinity that you seek. With it you will punish those that reject my name.”

He reached out and they kissed once more; this time the embrace was much longer. Celeste gasped as the man began slowly kissing her neck, slowly moving down to her chest which heaved in anticipation and passion. She moaned with pleasure, but suddenly the man dissolved into a pile of ashes as she fell to her knees. The scenery began to swirl around her, as she awoke with a start. She was back in her house; the walls still filled with betrayal. All that remained was the scent of ashes – the fire was still going. She stood up and turned it off; the smell reminding her of a pipe dream filled with a fantasy that would probably never come to pass.

After all she was a knight; not a queen.

Celeste stood and glanced at the clock – it was still early in the morning, and the sun was beginning to rise. She rose off the couch and got something to ease the headache she was beginning to feel. The dream she had was so lucid; almost as if she was experiencing a case of déjà vu. Or maybe it was a conscious attempt to try and justify her current mindset, and what she vowed to do in the name of justice. Sandy Deserts had been the first example; and really she had been too harsh on the girl by calling her a leech. Sandy just hadn’t been able to understand that she was nothing more than deadweight; there was no room in the world of justice for her, and Celeste knew this. She came to this realization the moment she lost to Sam Smith.

‘The man had been so haunted by his past that he was using the title as a crutch just to survive.’ She thought.

‘I could have saved him from that, eased his pain, which would caused him to see that the belt he clung to so dearly wasn’t his greatest treasure. That was his greatest sin, and now that championship is gone and he’ll only hit rock bottom again.’

What had once been her mission to accomplish – to take out the Apostles of Chaos – Kurtesy had interjected and had accomplished that mission all by himself. And once Ty’s soul had been broken, Chris KO moved in to nail the coffin shut. And then like a thief in the night, the bastard turned his back on order. What a coward; Celeste knew that he was never on the side of true righteous. He was a phony, masquerading as the identity of a righteous warrior, and that was unforgivable. But that was another one of her sins; she believed that there were others on her side, willing to fight for the same cause, when she was alone from the start. That was clear now.

‘And that dream I had?’ she paused.

‘A made up figurehead that gave me the right to punish others; I can see the sins of others all around me. Oh how they take for granted the treasures in their life, never knowing when the things they hold so dear will be suddenly taken away from them. I will rectify that; I must!’

She clenched her fists knowing the consequences. She had already descended into madness due to the selfishness of others, and she wasn’t going to show any pity, any remorse, or any mercy until the whole roster paid for their crimes in blood. The glare of the sun in the window caught her eye, causing her to shield her face from the light. Suddenly she heard the sound of chiming bells coming from the front door; she wasn’t expecting anyone. She walked towards the front of house and opened the door. It was Patricia. The Asian woman looked as lively as usual, but her normal smile was replaced with a frown.

“There you are. I was wondering why you hadn’t returned my calls. I know how crushed you must feel, but barricading yourself inside your house like this isn’t going to make things any better.”

Patricia had been her main pillar of support during this whole ordeal. Never wavering once; she was the small piece of comfort that she still had. Despite that, her presence was unwelcome. Her voice echoed through her ear like an air raid siren. She shook her head, as Patricia looked flabbergasted. The younger woman reached out and pushed her aside and stepped into the house. Celeste watched as Patricia flew up the stairs, returning later with a navy blue duffle bag. She motioned for Celeste to follow, not giving her a chance to say no. Patricia opened the trunk of her sedan and threw the bag in the back with her own. Celeste got in the passenger side while she started the car.

“Care to tell me where we’re going?” asked Celeste.

The response was to be patient and wait. The drive was mostly quiet. Celeste could sense that something was wrong with Patricia; they had been friends for so long that she could read her pretty well. The strange part was that she didn’t seem angry at all. Celeste raised an eyebrow as Patricia pulled into the parking lot of the dojo where she worked part time as an instructor. The dojo was empty that day, and Celeste remained stoic as her friend led her into a room with a large with mat in the center. Patricia threw Celeste’s bag at her, and she unzipped it to find bike shorts, protective knee pads, a helmet, and gloves. Celeste quickly changed as Patricia secured the door and locked it.

“So, this is what’s going to happen,” said Patricia walking up to her friend.

“We’ll have a match, let you work off some of that pent up aggression that you have, then we’ll talk. I know you’ve been having a rough time with the divorce Celeste, but you can’t close yourself off to the rest of the world-"

“I haven’t closed myself off,” she interjected.

“Yes you have. You don’t return my calls, and you smell like a Russian brewery! Seriously, the day after your divorce was finalized you drank yourself into a sleep induced coma and passed out on your kitchen floor. I couldn’t even imagine how it must be for you being on the road all the time. If it weren’t for Sandy you wouldn’t have any friends there at all.”

Celeste’s gaze wandered down to the floor, as she let it slip how she had broken ties with Sandy. Patricia threw her hands up in the air. She didn’t like this side of Celeste; she was becoming jaded. Granted she had a valid reason to be angry, but still it wasn’t healthy. She didn’t like to see her this way. Patricia stepped over to the mat and challenged Celeste, but she didn’t budge. Instead she turned to leave, having entertained Patricia enough. She didn’t have to explain herself – this was something she’d never be able to understand. The woman didn’t have kids; she wasn’t even married!

“Did I tell you that I ran into Laxus a couple days ago? I saw your little boy…”

Celeste stopped in her tracks and slowly turned around. Her eyes were filled with longing, but they suddenly went wild. She stepped forward, questioning the woman with distaste as to why she never contacted her. She hadn’t seen her baby in almost a month! Patricia’s defense that she wasn’t answering her phone had fallen on deaf ears; that shouldn’t have even mattered. Celeste shut her eyes, as the room started to spin. Suddenly she lurched forward and shoved Patricia backwards. The younger woman looked shocked and stared at her in disbelief until a small smile formed in the corner of her mouth. Suddenly Patricia shot forward and planted her fist in Celeste’s stomach. She caught her breath in her throat and stumbled forward, eying her friend with a feral gaze.

“Thanks for making the first move,” she growled.

Celeste lunged at the younger woman, in an attempt to take her down, but Patricia parried her assault and by reversing the older woman, she used her moment to take her down to the mat. Celeste shouted in frustration and tried to grab Patricia’s leg, but she got swatted away. Patricia tried to cinch in the half in response, but Celeste kicked herself free. She stood on her knees and slapped Patricia across the face, before standing up completely. The younger woman got to feet and stared at her friend with her mouth open, rubbing her cheek.

“This is pointless,” said Celeste with a snarl.

“You have no idea what I’m going through, Patricia. You’ve never been married before and you don’t have any kids. It’s not fair that I have to sacrifice so much with nothing in return! That’s why going to make everyone feel the pain that I feel!”

“Is that what you did to Sandy?” asked Patricia. “I didn’t know her very well, but you did tell me that she was your friend.”

“She was, but I realized that to bring down the hammer of justice I had to be willing to punish those that I cared about for their sins as well. Do you want me to do the same thing to you?”

Patricia took a fighting stance, “We’ve been friends for a long time Celeste, and you don’t have to justify anything to me. But how can you expect others to feel your pain when you can’t even feel it yourself? Your talk is nothing but bravado – you didn’t teach Sandy anything; she let you beat her out of pity.”

There was a limit to how far someone could impose their will before hitting a wall. Celeste took a stance and the two women grappled once more. Trading holds back and forth with lightening speed as they fought for supremacy. The fight wasn’t pointless, at least not from Patricia’s standpoint. She could see how flawed Celeste’s thinking had become, and whether or not she agreed with her mindset was irrelevant. There was no line between right and wrong when it came to upholding justice. As someone that had indulged in sin for years she knew the where the boundary between morals lay. Celeste managed to catch her in a shoulder lock; she wretched it as Patricia began to scream in pain. Despite that she got to one knee and used her strength to reverse the momentum and quickly locked in a wrist lock. Celeste couldn’t feel the pain, but she could feel the pressure being applied on her joints. Suddenly Patricia released the hold and stood up. Celeste remained on the ground and eyed her.

“How do you plan on upholding justice when you can’t even imagine the physical pain of others? You’re right, I don’t know what it’s like to be betrayed by my husband and lose my son, but you can’t feel the pain of a torn ligament or a broken bone!”

Celeste went silent; she had never even thought of that. The shame she was beginning to feel was overwhelming. Then maybe Sandy did lay down for her after all. She stood up and began to take her gloves off when Patricia stopped her. The younger girl explained that she didn’t question her motives – the world could be an awful place sometimes, and in such a competitive world there were people that definitely needed to be brought down a peg. Even those that weren’t hurting others weren’t guilt free either. Patricia didn’t need to understand Celeste’s pain in order to see what was missing. She wondered if Sandy had tried to do this while she and Celeste traveled, but that didn’t matter now.

“Listen to me Celeste. I want you to hit me as hard as you can as many times as you want, and I won’t fight back. Since you cannot feel the pain of others then I will feel it for you. It may sound silly, but think of it as a metaphor. All the physical pain that you should have felt from your opponents, hit me as hard as you’d like and I will experience it all for you.”

Celeste stared in shock. She shook her head and protested, but the younger woman kept on insisting until she had no choice. She clenched her fist and took a swing nailing Patricia right in the face. Without thinking she mounted the younger woman and began pounding her over and over again. All her feelings began to rush to the surface as she began to unleash all her pent up frustration at the shitty hand that life had dealt her. Patricia never once cried out in pain, to do so would have been an insult to the anguish Celeste should have felt during all of the beatings she had suffered over the past few months. She found it to be nothing short of amazing that her friend’s body had held up without breaking down, so she wasn’t about to complain. Celeste began to shake, and stopped her assault. The younger woman’s right eye was swollen shut, her lip was busted open, and she might have had a broken nose. Patricia coughed and tasted blood on her breath.

“I can’t move my face,” she stuttered.

Celeste crouched down on the mat beside her. “Does it hurt?”

“Like a bitch, but this pain… is yours… so don’t let anyone tell you otherwise alright.”

Celeste nodded. There was little else that had to be said. Patricia had offered to take the pain that she should have felt physically from her opponents as a way for her to finally understand their pain. Justice wasn’t worth fulfilling if even one person got to go unpunished for their sins, and that brought her comfort. Closing her eyes, she could see the eyes of God bathed in shadows; his touch caressing her skin, and making her tingle. His voice was silky and he still smelled of smoke and ashes. The scent forever embedded in her memory. A knight had to remain steadfast against all odds; nothing was impossible and justice must be absolute. If even one person went unpunished for their sins, how could she live with herself? To atone for the sins she committed in the past.

She turned towards the younger woman who was still lying on the mat, “You planned this didn’t you?”

Patricia smiled, “It wasn’t exactly my plan to let you smash my face in but I came prepared; there’s some bandages in my bag. I realize that… the world can be a very unhappy place sometimes. I want you to be happy, and if that means you’ve got to bust a few skulls, then go as wild as you want. I will feel your physical pain for you so that you can do what you’d like.”

Celeste walked over and retrieved the medical kit from Patricia’s bag. She snatched the bandages and went to the bathroom to dampen her shirt to use as a washcloth. She dropped them next to Patricia who sat up and begin to dress her wounds. Celeste laid down on the mat beside her and stared up at the ceiling. The Lethal Lottery was next. This was her chance to establish herself and her mantra. This was a spectacle that only happened once a year, where the top thirty wrestlers in the business competed for the right to fight the WZCW champion at the biggest show of the year Kingdom Come.

‘So many sinners that need to be punished and so little time to do it; I’m a realist though, while I may not be able to win the whole thing, I can throw out as many people as I can. For each one that tastes the bitterness of having their dreams ripped away would bring me such elation.’

In her mind she could picture the faces of the wrestlers that deserved her wrath the most. She began to list them off in her head one by one. First there was Drake Callahan – whose envy had led him to madness, next there was El Califa - whose false confidence was rooted in nothing but lies and deceit, third there was Barbosa – whose own fragile psychosis would be his own worst enemy, after that was SHIT – whose artificial intelligence was rooted in so much ignorance that it was impossible for him to be anything other than an expendable tool. How could any of them hope to win when none of them could overcome their own darkness?

‘That’s my advantage. I’m not booked in any match other than the Lottery. And unlike the rest of those cretins I’m not burdened by my emotions. I’m not fighting in the name of hatred, in the name of vengeance, or in the name of honor. I’m fighting in the name of order. That means that I’m beyond such pettiness. As a soldier those are the types of wrestlers that I need to point the edge of my blade at.’

She sat up as Patricia finishing dressing herself. Her eye was still swollen, but at least she wasn’t bleeding anymore. There were other wrestlers like Grand Mystique, Rush, and Sam Smith who were even worse off. Mystique – whose false prophecies and blasphemies against order would extinguish his lucky star before he even made it to the Lottery. Rush – whose body might have been big, but his heart wasn’t. And Sam Smith – whose misplaced pride would soon lead to his own demise. The woman he defeated at All or Nothing was a mere shell of the person she was now. She was enlightened; she could see the evil in others, and Smith was cascading with it. Last there was Sandy – whose heart just wasn’t in the right place. Celeste had never wanted her to try and follow her or stop her; all she wanted was for Sandy to admit her sins, lay down, and taken her punishment. And if she still felt like fighting at the Lottery, then Celeste wasn’t going to show her any mercy.

‘There are so many unknowns that go into the Lethal Lottery, so why couldn’t I win? I’m not the same person that used to lose all the time, but I can’t abandon justice and order. If God were to will it, then I could win. Yes, I could take the WZCW championship contract for myself and hold it hostage! Every lost soul that I eliminate will be another hammer dropped onto the fleeting dreams of all those that have violated the law. Let all the other peons be angry; let them all be disappointed. Don’t they have something else to live for? I don’t; my most precious treasure was wrenched away, and my heart was crushed. And that makes me the most dangerous person going into the Lottery. I don’t have any limits, and I live only for my convictions.’

Celeste reached down and helped Patricia to her feet. Thanks to her sacrifice she could now feel what it was like to know a bit of the misery that others felt. Even though not her own, it was the symbolism that mattered. To live in society meant following laws, but not those created by man. No, that gave everyone a free pass to do anything that they’d like; to bend those laws in their favor whenever they needed to squeeze by. After months of squeezing by she realized she was going anywhere. And at the Lottery, when everyone put their hopes on the line in order to gain a treasure that could make them immortal, that would be violating the laws created by God. Gold was only as valuable as mankind dictated, and something greater was in the works here. The man cloaked in shadows she saw in her dream – she was convinced that he would be the one to lead the company into a new era as its God. Winning the contract was the only way to protect him until his accession was final. Failure was not an option here. No matter what happened she wouldn’t stop until all the threats were neutralized. That way the rest of the masses would be easier to control.

 

[Skairipa Matrix]

The WZCW cameras catch up with WZCW's newest tag team, Carnival Of Carnage in Detroit, Michigan on a bright and sunny Saturday afternoon.

Brent: Soooo...where are we again?

Dustin: Clark Park dude. This is the best park in Detroit and it's a good place to go and clear your head. Which is what we need to do after that stupid loss on Aftershock.

Brent: Well I wouldn't have had to hit Grizzly with a chair if SOMEBODY didn't almost tap out!

Dustin: Hey! I was NOT about to tap out! I was about to counter out of that hold and drop that fat ass with the Dream Crusher!

Brent: Uh huh sure.

The two partners now walk into the center of the park and sit down on a bench in Clark Park that is to the left of the bridge that leads to the rest of the walking path.

Brent: Anyway remind me why you didn't wanna go to a bar for like, the first time?

Dustin: Because Katie is meeting me here. It's about time me and her talk things out.

Brent: Does that mean you will stop losing every round?

Dustin doesn't answer and instead just turns his head and gives his partner a death glare.

Brent: Whoa, looks like I struck a nerve there. Anyway change of subject....we got Lethal Lottery this Sunday, We should work together to dominate the match if we end up in the ring together.

Dustin nods in agreement, but deep down he thinks to himself that if it was to come down to him and Brent he'd have no problem tossing Brent over the top rope. Hell he'd throw his own mother and brother over the top rope if it meant being in the main event of Kingdom Come.

Dustin: You know I got your back bro, It's just a shame we can't win the tag titles at Lethal Lottery to become the world tag team champions of the world.

Brent: Uh did you just say...

Before Brent can finish his sentence we see Dustin's lifelong best friend, Katie Smith walk across the bridge with a nervous smile on her face. Dustin notices her right away and can't help but think to himself "wow she looks really good today." Dustin quickly walks over to his friend and gives her a big hug and can't help but smile after not seeing her for almost a month.

Katie: I've missed you too.

Katie chuckles and hugs Dustin back.

Brent: Aw look the BFF's got reunited! Now they just need to...

Before Brent can finish his sentence he gets a glare from Dustin who without words is telling his tag team partner "if you don't shut up and leave now, I will hurt you...bad"

Brent: Jeez, someone can't take a joke. I didn't wanna hang out at this stupid park anyway!

Brent stands up and walks away mumbling something about getting his own park, with blackjack and hookers as he walks away from the bridge and towards the exit of the park. Dustin and Katie now hop on the railing of the bridge as a young teen male goes flying past them on roller blades.

Dustin: So uh, I just wanted to let you know that I've changed my ways. I'm not all about getting drunk anymore.

Katie: So you stopped drinking?

Dustin: Well, uh no. But I don't drink just to get drunk anymore, now when I drink it's only in moderation.

Katie: Well, that's good I guess. How's your wrestling career going?

Katie waits to see his answer to test if he would lie as she's been watching WZCW TV every week so she knows how he's been doing.

Dustin: Honestly? Not that good. I've yet to win a match. But part of that is because I can't focus only on my match because for a few weeks now I've known we needed to have this talk and fix our friendship.

Katie: So why did you wait until now to call me about it?

Dustin: I wanted to give you time to calm down and give me time to make sure I had my drinking under control. Plus with Lethal Lottery coming up I know if I wanna stand a chance in that match I'm gonna need to only be focusing on that match. I'll have 29 opponents and none of which would I trust as far as I can throw them.

Katie: What about Brent? You guys seem to have a budding bromance going there.

Katie jokingly nudges Dustin who rolls his eyes and both chuckle at that statement.

Dustin: He is my friend and tag team partner but I know he wouldn't think twice about throwing me over the top rope if it meant headlining Kingdom Come.

Katie: And you wouldn't throw him out?

Dustin: Lets put it this way, I'd bring Austin back to life only to throw him over the top rope if it meant winning Lethal Lottery.

Katie can sense an awkward moment coming after this statement so she quickly changes the subject.

Katie: Speaking of Lethal Lottery, I know you don't care about the WZCW fans but I think you will care about one fan who will be in Chicago in the front row at Lethal Lottery.

Dustin: You didn't....

Katie: Surprise!

Katie takes a Lethal Lottery ticket along with a plane ticket to Chicago out of her sweatshirt pocket. Upon seeing the tickets Dustin realizes that this will only add more pressure on him to win the Lethal Lottery. This causes Dustin to let out a sigh and Katie to frown.

Katie: Do you not like it?

Dustin: I like this surprise. Hopefully I can make you proud by winning the match though.

Katie: Dustin Micheal Hunter, do you really think you have to win that match to make me proud? I'm proud of you for just living your dream of becoming a wrestler in WZCW!

Dustin cracks a smile at this statement, but yet he still is nervous which is obvious by his body language.

Dustin: Still, it's the biggest match of my career, the biggest opportunity in my life and on Sunday I'm gonna have to give it everything I have to even stand a chance at surviving the match. But with you there to support me I know I can do it.

A group of teens go rollerblading past and they nearly knock Dustin and Katie off the railing but they keep their balance.

Dustin: Fucking kids.

Katie chuckles as her and Dustin hop off the railing and start to walk away as a chubby boy is slowly rollerblading across the bridge.

Katie: Don't swear at the kids! They aren't hurting anybody!

Dustin and Katie start to leave as the chubby boy pushes past them but as he does, Dustin shoves the boy in the back without Katie seeing which causes the kid to fall forward and smash face first into the ground.

Katie: Oh my god is he okay?

Dustin: I'm sure he's fine. Don't worry his friends are coming to check on him.

Dustin quickly escorts Katie away from the scene in case the kids friends know what he did. Dustin and Katie reach the park entrance and Katie looks back at the young boy who seems to be getting to his feet unharmed.

Dustin: Where to now?

Katie: Hmm...how about we go get a bite to eat at Chili's?

Dustin: Sounds good to me.

The two turn the corner and keep walking away as the WZCW cameras fade to black.

 

[The Crock]

Part I — Prologue:​

​

​

If you push a man up against a wall, he gets desperate. A desperate man should be feared, but a man should not fear desperation itself. With desperation comes great clarity; a desperate man is shown a level of understanding he never knew the likes of before. A desperate man can look around him and see his situation -- his circumstances -- for what they really are. A desperate man will put everything on the line to overcome those circumstances.

Sam Smith is a desperate man. Smith's title loss to John Constantine -- even with the fact that it finally freed him from the midcard purgatory he had been held in -- was another nail in the coffin for Smith's chances at a main event at Kingdom Come, and another loss at the Lethal Lottery would be just that: lethal.

The last time Sam Smith lost his Elite X Championship, he fell into obscurity. The wrestling business abandoned Sam Smith and he gave up nearly every aspect of his life -- his home, his family, and his well-being -- for a second chance at WZCW, for a chance to right the wrongs committed against him by the very people who abandoned him.

If Sam Smith loses at the Lethal Lottery, what's to say he won't fall into obscurity once more? What happens then? There are no more chances for Sam Smith -- he gave it all up for one chance at glory, to prove that he stands among the giants in WZCW's history.

Winning the Lethal Lottery may be the next step toward reaching the top of the mountain or it may be the final step clear off the edge, if the past is any indicator of what is to come. One thing is for certain: Sam Smith will enter the Lethal Lottery a desperate man, prepared to do whatever it takes to etch his name in stone and re-write whatever happy ending the fans had in mind for the Lethal Lottery.

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Part II — Revelation:​

The dark, country night air lit up as bolts of lightning flashed across the sky. Claps of thunder rattled off intermittently with enough force to shake the ground. Sheets of rain relentlessly poured upon the earth from the heavens above. The weather was fitting, really. Chelsea Shaw stumbled up the stairs of Henry Smith's home, wildly knocking on the door. Chelsea needed to find Scott Smith, urgently, and knew that he rarely -- if ever -- left his ailing father's side.

The man Chelsea saw when the door flipped open was not what she had expected. Chelsea kept in touch with Scott Smith regularly, but she hasn't seen him in person in at least a year. In that year, she felt like Scott had aged twenty years. His once-youthful face had become gaunt and pale, his formerly thick, black hair had thinned and grayed. The toughest year of Scott's life had clearly taken its toll on him -- she knew as much from being there for him when he needed someone to talk to, but now it was his turn to be Chelsea's rock. She couldn't hold it in anymore; before Scott could have even uttered a word, Chelsea had broken down into tears.

Scott: You're soaked. Come inside, sit down, and breathe a little.

With that, Scott wrapped an arm around Chelsea and ushered her off the front porch and onto the couch in the living room. He held Chelsea for a few moments, letting her cry it out before finally speaking again.

Scott: What's wrong?

Through a few soft sobs Chelsea managed to answer.

Chelsea: My life is over, Scott.

Scott: Calm down. What's wrong?

Chelsea: I'm ashamed to admit it.

Scott reassuringly squeezed Chelsea's shoulder.

Scott: I've probably admitted much worse to you -- go ahead.

Chelsea stared at her feet.

Chelsea: I... I...

She stopped and inhaled deeply.

Chelsea: I'm pregnant.

It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. The two sat silently for a few minutes, neither knowing what to say next. The minutes felt like an eternity to Chelsea, as a mixture of sadness, shame, and anger bubbled within her.

Scott: It's Sam's, isn't it?

Chelsea, still having not broken her gaze at the floor, slowly nodded.

Scott: Jesus... Does he know?

Chelsea, again, responded silently with a shake of the head.

Scott: You need to tell him -- I don't care how, but he has to know.

With that, Chelsea shot to attention.

Chelsea: No!

Scott: It's his kid too, Chelsea.

Chelsea: I don't even know if I'm going to keep it.

Scott: Listen, I may have had my kids under different circumstances, but I wouldn't give them up for anything. You're going to love that kid, even if its father is a deadbeat. Hell, you know I'll do whatever it takes to help, if you need it.

Chelsea: It's not that. I mean, I don't know if I'm ready to handle another person's life, having its fate in my hands -- that's not the thing, though: I'm terrified the kid will turn into another Sam. The world doesn't need another person like that and that kid doesn't deserve to see themselves turn into that either.

Scott shook his head.

Scott: Sam's its father, nothing more nothing less. That child is a clean slate.

Chelsea: Is it really?

Chelsea lowered her voice, nearly hissing.

Chelsea: He worked his entire life to be nothing like his father because he hated the idea of hurting those around him, and look what he's become. In the blink of an eye, Sam became his father -- worse, he became a total stranger. What's going to keep this child from becoming the same thing, Scott?

Scott was at a loss for words.

Chelsea: I don't know if I want to bring a child into this fucked up situation. I want my child to be by my side when I need it -- to take care of me when I'm vulnerable -- not to turn its back on me... and for what?

Doesn't the prospect of raising and loving a child, only to have it spit in your face terrify you, Scott?

Scott stood up off the couch.

Scott: It's getting late, I should probably get to bed. I don't think you should be driving in this weather -- the spare bedroom upstairs is totally made up, so feel free to use it.

Chelsea: Okay. Thank you.

Chelsea stood up and walked by Scott headed up stairs, stopping half way.

Chelsea: Scott?

Scott: Yeah?

Chelsea: I wish I knew what to do.

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Part III — Consequences:​

​

​

Scott Smith stood in the kitchen of his father's house drinking a cup of coffee, a few hours removed from his conversation with Chelsea Shaw. It was 4:15 AM, but there was no way he could sleep -- he doubted if Chelsea herself was asleep either.

He had tried to be a calming influence on Chelsea, she was going through the toughest time in her life -- what Sam had been doing had hit her hardest and now she was pregnant with his kid, that she's never planned on having? It was tough, sad even. Maybe she was right, though; was the pain and suffering of bringing that child into the world worth it? Was it even the right thing to do? What would come of it? Nothing but heartbreak, probably.

Scott thought back to the last time he'd seen his brother holding a child -- when his own son had been born. The image stuck out in Scott's mind like a sore thumb.

Sam stood in the hospital nursery with a bundle of a little boy in his hands and beamed down at the child as he serenaded it to sleep.

Smith: Rock-a-bye baby, on the treetop,
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock,
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall,
And down will come baby, cradle and all.

Sam set the child down back into its bed, the proud smile still affixed across his face.

Smith: Good night, little guy.

Scott snapped out of it and thought to himself, that man would have been fit for a child, but this person -- this coward -- who Sam has become? No, that man didn't deserve it.

Seeing Chelsea tonight -- all disheveled and sad, like someone had put out the radiant light that had always seemed to shine inside of her -- had reminded Scott of his own harsh reality. He hadn't spent a night in his own home in at least six months and his wife had sent him divorce papers a few weeks ago -- could you really blame her? The fact of that matter was that they were already living like a divorced couple; Scott visited his kids on the weekends in between of caring for his father. His marriage had been crumbling for years -- he'd been unfaithful before and it had been on shaky ground since -- but it couldn't recover from a complete lack of contact.

It angered Scott. It angered him that his life was falling apart because he had to care for his ailing father alone. It was Sam's fault; sure, Sam couldn't have done anything about his father falling ill, but he sure as hell could have been there to help. He didn't care, though. Sam probably enjoyed watching his brother suffer, honestly. The relationship between the Smith brothers had always had an underlying tension, but this was full-blown hatred.

Scott set his mug of coffee down and started walking down the hall to his bedroom. His father's weak voice called his name as he passed by his bedroom, startling Scott.

Henry: Scott?

Scott stepped into the bedroom and kneeled by his father's bedside.

Scott: Yes, dad?

Henry: Am I going to be a grandfather?

Scott stared at his father -- he must've heard the conversation between he and Chelsea. It was a wonder he even remembered it at this point, as he could barely remember that Scott was his son sometimes. Scott thought about what to say to his father; Henry wouldn't remember this exchange in the morning anyway. Scott did what he thought was the right thing to do.

Scott: Yes, you are. Your younger son -- Sam -- is having a child.

Henry's wrinkled face curled into a smile unlike anything Scott had seen from him in years. Henry looked genuinely happy -- elated -- at the thought of being a grandfather. Scott simply didn't have the heart to take that from him, even if Sam was a selfish asshole.

Henry: I've always wanted to be a grandfather, son.

A familiar twinge of emotion struck Scott again -- that mixture of sadness and anger. Sam was the center of attention again -- even when he wasn't here -- and Henry couldn't even remember his other grandchildren, Scott's kids.

Scott: I'm happy for you, dad.

Even if the man wouldn't remember, Scott had to do the right thing. He wasn't like his brother -- not even close.

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Part IV — Epilogue:​

​

​

Sam Smith stood in front of a camera man with Leon Kensworth. Smith wore an exquisite black suit, a white dress shirt, a thin black tie, shiny black dress shoes, and had stuffed a black pocket square into his front suit pocket to top it all off.

Kensworth: Ladies and gentleman, I'm here for an exclusive WZCW.com interview with the former Elite X Champion, Sam Smith. Sam, what are your thoughts on the Lethal Lottery?

Smith: It's a cliche to say that you need a win -- to say that one single win can define you -- but the Lethal Lottery is my window of opportunity and it's closing fast. Winning the Lethal Lottery may be the closest thing to needing a win I'm ever going to get. If I go over the top rope and my feet hit the ground, someone else will take my chance. Someone's going to take my food off my table, unless I do the same to them.

Smith stared stoically into the camera.

Smith: The Lethal Lottery isn't glamorous. All the bright lights, all the fireworks, and all the hype cannot change the harsh reality of what the Lethal Lottery match really is. Some member of WZCW management decided to play God and dangle a piece of meat in front of thirty rabid animals, in the form of a World Heavyweight Championship main event at Kingdom Come. We're all going to step in there and fight tooth and nail for that piece of meat because it's the ultimate goal of every man in that locker room to be the best.

Don't fool yourselves into thinking that this is any competition at all; the lambs are being led to slaughter and their shepherd is long since departed -- twenty-nine men are going to be fed to one man who will rise above them all and raise his hand at the end of the night, knowing that he's going to get his chance at immortality at Kingdom Come. I am that man.

Smith paused and straightened his tie, never once looking away from the camera.

Smith: My road to Kingdom Come began at WZCW SuperShow II when I fell short against Showtime Cougar, and I've been on a collision course with the World Heavyweight Champion ever since. I'm not going to stop, I'm not going to fail, and I'm not going to let another man -- like John Constantine, like Steven Holmes -- take what is mine. 29 men will rise and 29 will fall, I will stand tall among the rubble.

He paused momentarily.

Smith: You know, they say fate is everything. Well, let me break it to you: fate is meaningless. Fate doesn't hand you a World Heavyweight Championship shot at Kingdom Come; you see an opportunity and you take it. The best men -- men like me -- see an opportunity and they rip it from the clutches of the savages trying to wrench it from them. The Lethal Lottery and everything that comes with it is at my fingertips, and on Sunday I will finally be one step closer to making good on my promise, plunging this company into darkness -- the very same darkness it forced me into -- as I stand tall and unrivaled.

A devilish smile crossed Sam's face.

Smith: Sam Smith will become an immortal at Lethal Lottery V, as I will strike down with great vengeance upon anyone who gets in my way.

Fear me.

 

[IHW]

April 30th- Aftershock 22, Scottrade Center, St. Louis, MI

Post Match against Jimmy Flynn and Grizzly Bob

A sweaty and beaten Brent Blaze and Dustin Hunter, collectively known as the Carnival of Carnage, burst through the curtain. They had just finished the tag team match against Jimmy Flynn and newcomer Grizzly Bob. Sweat rolled over the faces of each man, as they breathe heavily. Brent, followed by Dustin, rushed to the locker room, passing Alhazred and Krypto. People continue to walk all around them. This is the go-home show to one of the biggest pay per views of the year. Simply known as Lethal Lottery. Anticipation fills the entire arena, from the fans in the stands to the man currently making his entrance to the ring, Mickey Stormrage. Every superstar in the back, from the newbies to the veterans, from Thrash to Showtime, and all those in between, awaits Lethal Lottery. The event is huge, but the big one, the headliner, is the Lethal Lottery Match itself. 30 participants, past, present, and future will collide for a chance to headline Kingdom Come- the true showcase of the immortals. Wins and loses mean everything throughout the year. If there were any two men who know this, it would have to be Brent Blaze and Dustin Hunter. Coming off a loss that had occurred moment ago, The Addiction and his tag team partner now sit on cold, steel chairs in the locker room, ignoring all the commotion going on around them. No words have been spoken since the encounter with Flynn, Bob, and rival Thrash. No words will be spoken for a time to come.

April 30th- Aftershock 22, Scottrade Center, St. Louis, MI

During the Main Event

Alhazred, Krypto, Ricky Runn, and Isabel Stone- These are the competitors in the ring. These are the four that gave us a taste of what is to come at the Lottery. Elimination after elimination, entrant after entrant will occur. One will be left standing. One will go on to the Main Event Kingdom Come against the World Champion- Showtime or Steven Holmes. Be it Man, Woman, Alien, or Machine, the path Kingdom Come will begin at Lethal Lottery as a new number one contender is crowned.

As the main event for Aftershock continued, Brent Blaze, still wet, but now from taking a shower, returned to the locker room. There sat Dustin Hunter amongst some random WZCW wrestlers. He too was beginning to clean up, unwrapping his wrist one by one. A monitor sat in the corner where the superstars in the locker room could view what was happening inside the ring during Aftershock. Ricky Runn had just won the table’s match, with the last elimination being Alhazred and Krypto, due to the little green aliens mischievous ways. Tons of uproar occurs in the locker room. Many officials leave the general vicinity, and appear on screen. Ricky, who may have just won the match, was in for a special surprise. Lights in the building go out, and then back on. Dustin and Brent glance at each other quickly, as a mist begins to fill the room. With water pouring down on the two men, there night had just gotten worse. All there gear soaked, Dustin, who has yet to say a word stands up. Brent, who hasn’t sat down since reentering the room, stares at his tag team partner.

The voice of Grand Mystique can be heard through the monitor. Both men glance at the screen. A battle has begun, as more superstars enter the mayhem. Stormrage and Triple X enter the scene. Ticked off at the events leading up to this moment, Dustin Hunter marches past his tag team partner. He gets to the single door of the room, looks over his shoulder at Blaze, and continues out the door. Brent follows. They get to the curtain that leads into the arena. With the water still pouring, the sounds from the fans rage on. Dustin and Brent burst through the curtain…

May 1st- St. Louis, MI

Day After Aftershock

Brent Blaze and Alexis Jade are scene walking out of a hotel in the midst of all the city action. Dustin, who stayed with a friend overnight, is expected to meet the two at Clark Park Coalition in Detroit, Michigan in a few days. Brent is still noticeably steaming from his loss. Alexis speaks.

Alexis: At least you didn’t get us kicked out of that one.

Alexis is given no reply from Brent. After trying to ignore the situation since she meet him at the arena the night before, she speaks up.

Alexis: Come on Brent. Everyone losses. Just chalk it up, move on and better yourself. You can’t overreact to these silly little losses. Just because Thrash can beat you, and Flynn can beat you, and Grizzly Bob can beat you… Well, it doesn’t mean you should act like a total dick. Bro, look, you have some nice wins under your belt. You’ve taken guys out of this company. Look at X-Quis-It.

Brent glances at Alexis, trying to remember the name.

Alexis: Exactly You can’t! And, then there is Darren Bull, and James Carter. Where are they now? They sure aren’t in WZCW. There blood is on your hands. Connor Resse, you’ve beaten him too! Just because you get a few losses here and there doesn’t mean you are any less of a threat in the Lottery match you were telling me about last week. It will have some big names in it! And that means big opportunities! Look at some of the names you have told me about- El Calfia, Saxton, Saboteur, K.O., Constantine, Sam Smith! Look at the opportunities. Seek the opportunities. That’s what will lead you to victory, Brent. Focus. That is the key, not this bullshit attitude you’ve had since last night.

Without saying a word, Brent Blaze climbs into his F-150. Alexis hops in the passenger side. On the road again, headed for the Prairie Capital Convention Center, Springfield, IL.

May 4th- Prairie Capital Convention Center, Springfield, IL

WZCW House Show

Brent Blaze stands in the ring with a local competitor. Dustin Hunter stands in one corner, another unknown face in the other. Boo overcome the majority of the sound that can be heard.

Blaze lifts a downed competitor of the mat, yelling vicious things at his opponent. Smack! A slap to the face from Blaze, the ultimate sign of disrespect. The opponent’s face has a radiance of red. He connects with a punch to the face on Blaze. Unleashing a short lived furry, the competitor tags in his partner. The fresh “superstar” walks toward Blaze, but is met with a kick to the gut! Blaze hooks the arms! Substance Abuse, often known as a tiger bomb, connects! Dustin Hunter enters the ring, delivering a Diving Kick to the chest of the man on the apron. He signs to Blaze that its time. They await the in-ring opponent to stand, and both charge at him simultaneously. Boom! Discus Elbow from Blaze, and Smash Elbow from Dustin connects! Dustin rolls out. Pinfall from Blaze!

1…

2…

3!!!

May 9th- Peoria, IL

Three Days Before Lethal Lottery

Brent Blaze is seen talking on his cell phone.

Brent Blaze: It’s about a two and half-hour drive from here. I know, it’s going to be huge; 30 of us all in one ring, over the course of one match. What can go wrong? What will go right? It has to be great, man. I’ve been through a lot lately. I am still in the process of finding my stride. But, let me tell you, when that stride is found, the beast will be unleashed. The passion I once spoke of, it still exists. It will be reignited on May 12th, in Chi-town. There is not a thing any of the 29 superstars in this match will be able to do to stop the Addiction. Each and every one of them, if at all cost, will feel my wrath, my pain. They will all know what I have gone through! They will feel the addiction overcome them. They will know exactly why I am the next World Champion. You may doubt me, they may doubt me, but let me set one thing clear, I do not care! I just don’t care anymore! It’s about me. This match is about me. Nobody else. Not even you, bro. If timing allows, we will work as a unit. But, in the end, there will only be one. And that man is Brent Blaze.

I am the addiction, and all twenty-nine of you will become my addicts at Lethal Lottery!


May 12th- Hard Rock Hotel, Chicago, Illinois

Day of Lethal Lottery

7:00 A.M.- An alarm sitting on an oak table next to a king size bed blares in the hotel room of Brent Blaze.

Snooze.

7:10 A.M.- Beep. Beep. Beep.

Snooze.

7:30 A.M.- Beep. Be-

Brent Blaze smacks the alarm clock, nearly knocking it of the dark wood table, this time able to avoid the snooze button. After lying there for a while, he slowly rises out of bed, releasing a large yawn. Tossing the covers on to the floor, Blaze stands up. Almost immediately he begins to stretch. After loosening up his body, Blaze marches toward the mini-fridge that he stored milk in the night before. He grabs the box of Wheaties and a plastic bowl out of a Wal-Mart Bag. Pouring the cereal of champions into the bowl, Brent checks his phone.

7:59 A.M.- As he continues to eat his breakfast, Brent logs onto WZCW.com on his cell phone. He checks all the updates, seeing a specific title that catches his eye.

“Tag Teams In The Lethal Lottery”

Brent taps the title with his thumb, opening a new window. After taking a few moments to read the article, he laughs and tosses the phone on the bed. Blaze gets dressed. And 2 Basketball shorts, black Kine socks with a red swoosh, dark green wristband on both wrist, and a black Over Armor shirt. Finishing of the milk in his bowl, Brent laces up his Kine shoes. Leaving no tip, and a lofty mess in the room, Brent heads out the door with his bag of clothes.

8:27 A.M.- Equinox Fitness, Chicago, Illinois

In the midst of his morning workout, sweat pours off the face of the Addiction. Rep after rep, breathing slowly, Brent pushes himself to the limit. Many forms of pushups, curls, chin-ups, crunches, presses; the workout continues. Beats of sweat drip from the darkened face of the up and coming superstar. Cardio begins. Brent runs the treadmill for nearly 30 minutes. He steps off, but the end isn’t near. The work out continues throughout the course of the morning.

11:46 A.M.- Charlie Trotter’s, Chicago, Illinois

Brent arrives, in a yellow taxicab, at Charlie Trotter’s in Chi-town. He glances into the parking lot, where many vehicles await the return of their owners. He spots his truck, signifying Alexis has already made it to the dining area. Blaze struts in, stopping to check his reflection in the glass window near the door. After freshening up post workout, Blaze received a text from Alexis setting up lunch for the day. She told him to meet her here, and he would love the food.

Brent, who has never been to Chicago before, searches for his friend in the dinning room. He spots her across the room, and pushes his way through the crowd of people. Arriving at the table, Brent sits down.

Brent: These obnoxious buffoons annoy the hell out of me.

Alexis, with a laugh, replies.

Alexis: You think they annoy you? I’ve been here for fifteen minutes. You getting used to this traveling lifestyle yet?

Brent: Working on it. I could hardly stand the people in Owensboro. Now, having to deal with idiots all over the country, and eventually overseas, it’s rough. You, you are used too it. You were a military child; you’ve been all over. I hardly ever left Owensboro. Now, traveling around the U.S. It’s crazy.

Alexis: At least, with us being best friends and all, we get to experience it together.

Brent laughs, attempting to hide his real feelings for Alexis. After being interrupted, and ordering their food and drinks from a young waiter, the conversation continues.

Alexis: You nervous?

Brent: About what? Tonight? Of course not, like I’ve said, I got this. I am as ready as I can be. Once I get in that ring tonight, there ain’t a soul on this planet that can take me out of it.

Alexis: You know what number you’ve got yet?

Brent: Not a clue, but the later the better. At least I’m not number one, Chris is.

After the small talk continued for about 10 minutes, the food arrives. Both eat, enjoying what they’ve tasted. Deciding it is time to go. Brent stands up.

Alexis: You got the tip?

Brent looks at her with a “shit” type of face. He walks off, as Alexis reaches into her purse and lays out a couple of dollar bills. She rushes to catch up with Brent. They meet at the truck, as Brent demands the keys. Alexis obliges, and tosses the set of keys toward Blaze. Clinging in the air, Blaze reaches for them. They climb in the truck, and set forth to the next location.

12:55 P.M.- Hard Rock Hotel, Chicago, Illinois

Brent and Alexis pull up to the hotel where they stayed, in separate rooms, the night before. Alexis give Brent a hug, and jumps out of the truck. While Alexis is walking to the other side, Brent rolls the window down.

Brent: Catch the show on Pay Per View tonight!

Alexis: Good luck!

Brent: I don’t need it!

Brent storms off down the road, headed 18.2 miles west toward the arena.

1:20 P.M.- Brent arrives at the Allstate Arena.

1:45 P.M.- Allstate Arena, Chicago, Illinois

Hours of interviewing, and fan fair commence. Blaze meets up with fellow Carnival of Carnage teammate, Dustin Hunter, who stayed with Katie the night before. The two manage to complete a Question and Answer without getting into too much trouble.

6:00 P.M.- Allstate Arena, Chicago, Illinois

One hour before the pyro explodes, and the show will begin, Blaze and Hunter sit in the locker room. Fans pour in from all entrances into the building. Noises of excitement fill the arena. Superstars pace throughout the backstage area. One by one, they learn their number for Lethal Lottery.

Brent enters the official’s office. Dustin has just learned his number for the Lottery, and he now sits and waits for his tag team partner to return, so they can share their places. Brent returns, with a steady look on his face. Dustin jumps up, anxious to learn his friend’s number.

Brent: Let’s not share them.

Dustin: What?

Brent: Let’s both go out there and focus on the match. Not on each other, not on when the other’s individual music will sound. If we keep our numbers to ourselves, we can focus on the task at hand. Winning the Lethal Lottery. Joining the likes of Ty Burna as Lottery winners! How great will it be? One of us must do it!

Dustin shakes the hand of Blaze. With the mutual agreement set, the two part ways to prepare for the big, career-making match.

9:14 P.M.- Allstate Arena, Chicago, Illinois

Moments before the start of the Lethal Lottery Match 2013, Brent Blaze begins to tape up his wrist in dark green ring tape, followed by the complete lacing of the boots. Many superstars prepare for the epic match around Blaze. The locker room is in a sort of calm, yet frenzy state. Anticipation fills the air, who will be second? Who will be last? Not many superstars have shared their entrant number with their peers. Strategies seem to be thrown out the window mid-match, so why make any? That was the main thought going through the head of Blaze a short time ago. Now, the only thing on his mind, is not Alexis. It isn't Carnival of Carnage. It isn't his loss to Flynn and Bob on the last Aftershock. The last standing thoughts on Blaze's mind aren't even about Thrash, who Blaze has encountered many times over the short course of his time here in WZCW.This thought, as he prepares for the match, is one word.

Survive.

9:18 P.M.- Allstate Arena, Chicago Illinois

Chris K.O.’s theme music blares through the arena speakers. Boo fill the large, crowded room. Once Chris has entered the squared circle, one by one, the superstars, men and women alike,begin to enter the match. Many noises fill the air, most notably the sound of the loud buzzer every so ofter. Fans yell the numbers as the clock counts the next entrant. An unknown time has come to pass, and next, the man we have followed for the last few days, Brent Blaze

The countdown begins…

10…

9…

8…

7…

6…

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…

[YOUTUBE]3soskkvYBgM[/YOUTUBE]

 

[Dirk]

Diesel-fuelled rumblings calm to a murmur. The key twists back and the pick-up releases its last sputter. In the moonlit mountains it’s not easy to spot, but the figure walking towards his house is doing so with a slight limp. In near darkness, Grizzly Bob slides two fingers into the steel mesh and flicks open the gate in front of the pathway to his home. The dull, reassuring thud of his shoes connecting with the dust is the first thing to greet him. He proceeds, guided by force of habit alone, to make his way to the house. In one comfortable motion, a hairy arm nudges the front door open and hits a light-switch, illuminating the compact living room. The last sight to greet him snores robustly in the corner, pausing only to snarl at imagined threats.

Grizzly: Digger! Some guard dog you are... Give Daddy a hug!

After his eyes slowly open, the chunky Rottweiler rushes up to his feet and darts straight at “Daddy”. It takes Digger a while to build some traction with his big, scruffy paws on the smoothly varnished floor, but he accelerates and lunges at Grizzly, who catches him playfully. Cradling him with the one arm, Bob brushes the happy hound behind the ears. Digger starts to snort yet again, happily wagging the rest of his abdomen along with his tail. Grizzly chuckles as he notices this and puts his loyal companion down gently.

Grizzly: Daddy needs a cold one.

The battered brawler collapses onto his sofa, resting his forehead on his knuckles. He affords himself a groan. Digger paces closer and nuzzles his face between Grizzly’s elbows and the friendly face perks up his owner. Bob holds his dog by the sides of his head, forcing him to make eye-contact.

Grizzly: Boy, look over here... look at Daddy...

He pauses for a few moments, before resuming in a slow and authoritative tone.

Grizzly: Cold one!

The dog scampers off into the kitchen, paws the lid off a cooler box and returns with a bottle of beer between its lips!

Grizzly: Good boy! Now give it here... Give... Digger! Give...

The Rottweiler eventually eases up on the bottle and in return Grizzly reaches into his pocket. The familiar rustle of plastic sends the animal into a state of complete excitement. Digger whines and starts to salivate.

Grizzly: That’s right, buddy. Got us a treat... Heaven knows, we both earned it. Now, who’s a good boy?

Grizzly uses his molars to rip open a sealed packet of beef jerky. Next, he reaches into another pocket and produces a pocket knife. After dividing the meat evenly, he tosses the slightly bigger piece in the air, where it is met with snapping jaws. Grizzly smiles contentedly as his dog proceeds to dismantle the beef, before he wipes his beer on his jeans, removing most of the melted ice and hopefully all of Digger’s saliva. Gingerly he holds the bottle against his forehead for a while.

Grizzly: I’m going to miss that adorable mug, but I’m not all that sure ‘bout the slobber...

Grizzly twists off the cap and closes his eyes as the cool liquid flows down his gullet. After a while, he gets up and on his way to his bedroom he stops at the free, bank-issued calendar on the corridor wall. A dry-marker hangs from it, fastened by a strip of old cloth. His eyes come to a stop at the last date on the current page – thirty. His scowl slowly fades as his eyebrows relax and a pursed-lipped smile creeps across his face.

The sound of steel hitting flesh echoes through the arena, and then is quickly followed by boos. Blaze is in the ring and is beating down Bob with a steel chair! Bob releases Hunter and drops his knees and then to the ground. Blaze continuously hits him with a chair!

He takes the marker, strikes a line through April 30 and turns the page over, revealing May. One of the entries catches his eye – May the twelfth: Lethal Lottery V. As the grunts and growls from the living room quiet down, Grizzly peers around the corner, only to spot his sleeping “guard dog”.

Grizzly: Goodnight, boy! Sure was one heck of a night.

***

May 8, 2013

At dawn, Grizzly is outside of his cabin, doing some leg stretches on the grass and wiping the last bits of oatmeal from his beard. With the house shows taking less of a toll than the chair-shots of Aftershock, he is looking considerably better than a week ago.

Grizzly: Breakfast of champions, am I right?

Upon hearing “breakfast”, Digger interrupts his usual excited panting to jump at Grizzly, licking some of the oatmeal off his hand. This is met by thunderous laughter and Grizzly pulls him by the neck and onto his chest.

Grizzly: Get off me, you silly goof! Now come on, we got some training to do! Last one to the waterfall’s a rotten river-rat!

Grizzly and his hound start to jog into the forest, taking the path up to Folly’s Falls.

***

May 10, 2013

Grizzly: I’m going to miss you, boy. I’ve arranged for Granny Brown from the bar to feed you for a couple of days. She has a key and she’ll be over here every day, taking good care of you. Be nice to her, okay?

The woodland outside of Grizzly’s home has a warm glow, illuminated by the spring sunset. Inside, the man and his dog are on the sofa, watching some old wrestling footage. A couple of steaks are grilling on the veranda and Grizzly is holding a can of cola, adhering to his rule about alcohol in the couple of days before matches.

Grizzly: Let me tell you all about the Lethal Lottery match, Digger. There are thirty guys, all raring to go, entering one ring. It’s a do-or-die environment. One by one, the wrestlers enter and the only way out is to get yourself thrown over the top rope.

Grizzly gets up to flip the steaks. He adds some barbeque sauce, applying it gently with a fine brush.

Grizzly: Now look, this is where Daddy has the advantage – I won’t be easy to get me off my feet, let alone dumping me over the ropes, but even if they could manage that...

Grizzly holds up two big, clenched fists.

Grizzly: ...they’ll have to get past these here claws first. A brawl is just the kind of environment I’d thrive in. There’ll be no runnin’ away and no place to hide when I come a-crashin’ into people. Because it’s thirty people though, anything could happen. Some guys are runts and I’ll sure toss ‘em out without breaking a sweat.

Bob runs as fast as he can and like a speeding locomotive he refuses to stop as he squashes the heap of flesh formerly known as Donny J! He now wraps his arms around Donny and squeezes him as hard as he can, all the while swinging him around like a doll; Bear Hug! Donny is limp and lifeless and Shepard decides she’s seen enough and calls for the bell to end this utter massacre.

Grizzly: Some guys’ll be tough as nails to eliminate.

Smith gets back to his feet and referee hands him the Eltie X Title. Smith raises the title high into the air as the crowd boos loudly. He looks down at Overlast and spits down at him before exiting the ring, draping the title over his shoulder as the referee checks on the downed Overlast.

Grizzly: And other guys are just as big as me, makin’ ‘em harder to get over the ropes.

When he gets in the ring, Rush stands opposite his smaller opponent and flexes his shoulders and neck muscles while the Eurasian belt rests across his arms.

Grizzly: And I’m pretty sure some of ‘em are out after me.

Flynn is now dazed on his knees as Hunter looks over at Bob and yells something at him. The crowd boos Hunter.

Grizzly: But luckily there are a few upstanding men, who I’ll keep an eye out for. If anybody double-teams those men, they’ll have me to deal with!

The camera shot ends with Thrash, Flynn, and Bob staring up at the ramp as they watch CoC cower down

Grizzly: However, at the end of it all, the pack can only have one alpha male.

The referee recognizes the tag and Grizzly Bob steps into the ring.

Serra: This crowd is absolutely crazy! I have never heard so much hype for such a new wrestler!

Grizzly: Come Lethal Lottery V and I get drawn, anybody who wants to take out this bear should know that if I do go out, I’m takin’ as many as I can with me. Number one or thirty, I don’t care... and anybody who thinks of eliminating me – I’ll give ‘em hell before they do.

Grizzly finishes up his meal, flings his gym bag over his shoulder and bends down closer to his dog. Muted sorrow eclipses Bob’s usual demeanour and he lets out a hushed sigh.

Grizzly: You be a good doggie, now.

Grizzly hugs Digger’s massive torso and gets in his pick-up. His dog follows him outside, but he stops on the porch, wagging his tail. Grizzly winds down the window and starts the engine.

Grizzly: Goodbye boy! See you in a few days. Daddy’s going to miss you!

The truck speeds off into the dirt road and Digger watches it go, until he can’t see it anymore. He heads back to the front door and curls up on the rubber welcome mat, waiting for his master to come home.

 

[MMSoldier]

Are we ready?

Johnny Klamor, one of WZCW’s many interviewers, stands in front of a camera, patting down his black suit, readying himself for his interview.

Johnny: OK, count me down.

We hear a muffled countdown from behind the camera, and then Klamor goes into his speech.

Johnny: Hello, WZCW. With the Lethal Lottery drawing ever closer, I’ve decided to go backstage and ask a superstar about it. And so, I found this random person-

Come now, Klamor, you know me.

Johnny: Not the point! Anyway, my guest, Jimmy Flynn.

Jimmy walks into view, grinning, his eyes focused.

Johnny: Jimmy, I have to admit, I don’t think you have the fire or tenacity needed to go far. But, you’ve had fluke win after-

Jimmy: Shhhhh!

Jimmy covers the mic that Klamor’s speaking into, confusing the interviewer.

Jimmy: Mr. Klamor, I’ve heard your feeling about me, as well as I’ve heard them from many other people. “Oh, he doesn’t have what it takes to win anything in WZCW.”

Flynn laughs softly, shaking his head.

Jimmy: Well, I hope I proved at least some of you wrong.

Johnny seizes this opportunity to take control of the session, yanking his microphone back.

Johnny: Not to me! You’ve had no good wrestling qualities in my eyes since you’ve debuted. And I don’t think that will ever change!

Jimmy stares down at his interviewer, who stares right back, then shrugs.

Jimmy: Well, if that’s what you think. And I will admit, sometimes I’m not as hard as I can be. But now it’s time for the Lethal Lottery, the most unpredictable match of the year. Anything can happen!

Johnny: It’s also one of the biggest, with the winner going to Kingdom Come. But with all the talent that’s going to enter, you honestly cannot believe-

Jimmy pulls the microphone away from Klamor, sighing.

Jimmy: John, I know exactly what you’re going to say, and I’ve heard it my entire life. But, it’s time for the unpredictable. I have the best chance that I can give myself to win the lottery. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go. I need some advice from a… unwanted thing.

Jimmy walks away into the adjacent locker room, breathing in.

Doesn’t have the fire, tenacity, maybe…

He shakes his head, then sits down in front of the bench and closes his eyes.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Black. That’s all that can be seen. An empty void devoid of life. The view shifts, and a silver object is seen in the distance. The object comes closer, and it’s apparent that the object is a cage of some design. A small chuckle can be heard, and it seems to be coming from the cage. The laughing grows, a deep sound that could be mistaken for a growl, and the cell disappears. What’s left is a man in a straightjacket, the white of the straps dirtied against the man’s tanned skin. The man, still laughing, looks up and the Devil’s Dancer’s body is there, but it’s not quite him. The current figure’s red eyes and long, dirty hair are a sharp contrast to Jimmy’s blue and close cut. He looks up and stares straight ahead.

?: So, you’ve finally come to see me again?

The view turns to look at the scene from the side, and we see the more traditional Jimmy approach the figure. He takes a deep breath and goes to speak, but his other side interruptions him.

? : So, do I get to come out again anyti-

The figure is cut off by Flynn’s hand shooting out and grabbing his throat. The other Jimmy lets out a strangles laugh as he twists.

?: Wow, feisty today, aren’t we?

Jimmy leans in close to the other man’s face, and glares at him.

Jimmy: I swear, Damien, you are never leaving here.

The figure, now known as Damien, chuckles and smiles at Flynn.

Damien: Fair ‘nuff thought I’d ask. Well then…

He smiles, as Damien disappears from both Jimmy’s grasp and the straitjacket. Jimmy looks around, as Damien’s laugh echoes in the area.

Damien: So, what brings you to my humble abode? You don’t visit often enough for my liking, I get awfully bored here by my lonesome.

Jimmy turns around, and spots Damien sitting behind him, cross legged and smiling at Jimmy.

Jimmy: As crazy as this seem, I need something from you.

Damien’s smile grows larger as Jimmy speaks to his other side.

Damien: Well, if you’d let me free for a while, I’d be happy to do-

Jimmy: What did I just say?

Damien shrugs, oblivious to Jimmy's stare.

Damien: Still, what up?

Jimmy sighs as he thinks over what he’s going to say

Jimmy: I know you keep watch of what I do in here, so I believe you already know what I’m about to ask.

Damien rubs his chin as his smile grows.

Damien: Yes, I do keep your life on view…

He snaps his fingers as an image starts to form in from of the two. As the image clears, we see a young boy in football gear yelling, but the sound can’t be heard. As Jimmy watches, his body starts to tense up and he attempts to control his breathing.

Jimmy: Why are you showing me this?

Damien laughs as he stands and walks up to Flynn.

Damien: What, don’t like this one? Maybe you’d prefer-

Jimmy: What is the damn point of this?!

Damien: You’re still not learning. Forget your training; destroy all in your path!

Jimmy stares at Damien while his other half walks away from him.

Damien: Maybe, if you’re not learning…

Damien snaps his fingers again, and the image fades away. A few more seconds pass, and an old blue wrestling mat appears. The dirty mat lets up dust as Damien walks over it. He smiles as Flynn continues to glare over at him.

Damien: Do you wish to partake in your old trade? I remember you being quite good at it. Perhaps even a friendly wager? If you win, you can have some advice, but if I win…

Damien’s grin grows larger as Jimmy struggles to control his breathing.

Damien: Then again, last time you were offered a friendly wager…

He snaps his fingers again, and a new image forms in front of them. The image clears to see a younger wrestler in a maroon singlet slamming his fists on a bench in front of him. In the background, a young couple is seen, looking on with no expression on their faces.

Jimmy: Damien, if you have a point to this…

Damien laughs as he walks up to his fellow man. He shakes his head as Jimmy breaths deeply.

Damien: Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy. I’ll tell you what you wish to know. But only if you win in a friendly match.

Jimmy looks down, taking deep breaths.

Jimmy: No.

Damien breaks out laughing as Jimmy looks back up, his face painted with anger.

Damien: No? The King of all Downeast Maine says no to a wrestling match? Perhaps he doesn’t believe in himself anymore.

Jimmy: No.

Damien looks at Flynn, a curious look in his eyes.

Jimmy: I’m saying no…

Flynn glares directly at his counterpart.

Jimmy: Because any fight between you and me will be anything but friendly!

At the end of his shout, Jimmy suddenly rushes forward and tackles Damien down! He begins raining punches down on Damien’s face, as his other side struggles to cover up. Jimmy rises and begins to kick Damien in the side, as Damien rolls away laughing.

Damien: There you go! Harness that anger, that fire!

Damien disappears again, as Jimmy frantically looks around for him.

Jimmy: Get back here, I’m going to rip your goddamn head off!

Damien’s laugh echoes throughout the area, but there is still no sign of the man.

Damien: But why would I return when you’ve finally learned?

But, against his words, Damien does reappear behind Jimmy, hovering above him, tending to his newly earned black eye.

Damien: If only you didn’t have to hit so hard and ruin the merchandise.

Jimmy: Wha… I don’t even want to know. And what are you talking about?

Damien shakes his head, sighing.

Damien: Please, don’t make me come back down. You’ve kinda learned at least, now get, unless you want to –

Jimmy throws the straitjacket at Damien, who ducks the thrown cloth.

Damien: Was that really necessary?

Jimmy: You’re not necessary! You’ve been a part of every terrible moment in my life! If you think you can come out now, at the most crucial time, the time where I really need to shine, you’re out of your damn mind!

Damien laughs at Jimmy.

Damien: Fine, if you believe that, leave.

Jimmy: Fine. But first…

Jimmy now snaps his fingers, which causes Damien to disappear. After a few seconds, he reappears in the straitjacket and inside the cage.

Damien: REALLY?!?!

Jimmy sarcastically waves at his darker side, and then walks away with Damien yelling in rage behind him.

Lethal Lottery, the most unpredictable match of the year. It’s my time to shine, time to show the world what this Dancer can do.

The scene changes back to Jimmy in the locker room, meditating. He opens his eyes, and rises. The locker room in now bustling with activity, with other WZCW superstars preparing for their night. Jimmy smiles, and walks out of the room, looking back just once.

Jimmy: Be ready to dance.

He leaves the room as the other wrestlers continue their prep, not paying any attention to Jimmy leaving. As he leaves the room, Flynn looks down the hallway, spotting another person. The person turns and is his interviewer from before, Johnny Klamor, who spots Jimmy as well. He starts to walk over, shaking his head.

Johnny: Jimmy, for some reason, Management wanted me to ask you something else to go online with.

Jimmy opens his mouth to talk, then closes it again, and just nods.

Johnny: What is on your mind coming into the Lottery?

Jimmy chuckles, lowering his head.

Jimmy: Johnny, all I’m going to say about that is The Devil’s Dancer is going out to make an impact on WZCW. After the Lottery, there will be no more doubts. Jimmy Flynn will prove who I am.

With that, Jimmy walks away and leaves Klamor confused and the scene fading.

 

[FlexAmerican Dynamite]

The Khronicles of Krypto

Lester's Lottery of Love​

Krypto slowly awakens in the care of WZCW’s medical staff in the trainer’s room following the resident alien’s foolish, yet memorable leap of faith from the turnbuckle that cost him not only the battle royal, but potentially his health along with Mister Alhazred’s whom he tried to permanently injured.

Krypto: Where…..whvcjdshjbhs….am…hsjhjcshi….I…..fhksjkuewsfhks?

The other worldly sensation continues his outer species rambling until one of the trainers calms him down.

Trainer: Relax Krypto, you threw your body onto Alhazred about an hour ago and hurt him pretty badly along with yourself. I’m here to make sure you’re okay and don’t need further medical attention.

Krypto: Alhazred…..where is Alhazred?

Trainer: Resting and healing up his wounds on the other side of the arena heavily guarded by security by order of Chuck Myles, he said he doesn’t want you two causing anymore carnage here tonight.

A light knock can be heard on the door, it appears to be Leon Kensworth as the Trainer opens it. The two have a slight exchange seemingly regarding whether or not an interview is appropriate following Krypto’s almost suicidal assault on the mad doctor. The alien cannot exactly seem to make out what they’re saying due to what may be a minor concussion but the trainer soon reluctantly agrees to Leon’s persistently annoying advances.

Trainer: Five minutes, make it quick Kensworth.

The trainer then exits the room leaving Leon with his extraterrestrial interviewee

Leon: So Krypto I must ask the question that all of the WZCW universe is wondering and talking about, why would you blatantly disregard being victorious in the over the top rope battle royal in lieu of attempting to destroy the man who has recently become your nemesis: Mister Alhazred.

Krypto: Wait…the whole universe is talking about it?

Leon: Well the portion of it that watches WZCW anyway…

Krypto: The whole universe is talking about me? Even the Plottemisis from Jupiter and those Octozons from Pluto?

Leon: Um I don’t think you understand what I’m talking about Krypto, and I thought Pluto wasn’t a planet anymore….

Krypto: If their all talking about me then the plan must have been a success! This is just what I needed to get not only the earthlings but the entire nebula back in the palm of your hands! Tell me Leon, have you talked to Alhazred yet?

Leon: No but I think it’s safe to say he and the entire locker room was taken back quite a bit by your change in demeanor tonight.

Krypto: Kittensworth would you say my performance tonight was…sexy?

Krypto attempts some kind of gyration with his hips but can’t seem to properly move them due to injuries.

Leon: I guess if you’re into that sort of thing….hey did you just call me Kittensworth?

Krypto: Yes I did Kittensworth.

The alien continues his awkward gyrating until he is asked another question by Leon.

Leon: You do realize that Mister Alhazred calls me that right?

Krypto: Exactly Kittensworth, I told you earlier tonight that this rivalry between me and Alhazred is personal. I’ve already shown tonight that I can dominate him by force, but now I need to destroy him mentally. How do I do that to a man who psyche comes into question every minute of the day? I must become Mister Alhazred.

Leon: So is that why you’re calling me Kittensworth and seem to be mimicking Alhazred’s pelvic thrusting?

Krypto: Yes, except now Kittensworth it shall be called Krypto’s intergalactic gyrating.

Leon: Seems like the same thing with more syllables.

Krypto: Nobody asked you Leon! Now while I am obviously doing a brilliant job at molding myself into Alhazred’s devilishly more attractive clone there is one thing I need your help with.

Leon: What is that?

Krypto: Finding me a woman to test intercourse with.

Leon: You mean find you a prostitute?

Krypto: You said the words not me Leon, but I figured if anybody knew the proper procedure of paying for sexual intercourse it was you.

Leon: Sigh…look I know a good place for single people…or other types of beings in your case looking for companionship. It’s not guaranteed love making but it’s a good matchmaking process if you’re looking to enter a relationship.

Krypto: Forget relationships I just want to thrust…I mean gyrate into a few sexy honeys, that’s how Alhazred says it right? Yeah sexy honeys, what’s it called Kittensworth?

Leon: It’s called Larry Lester’s Lottery of Love.

Leon hands Krypto a small card with a number and address on it.

Krypto: Perfect, I shall find me a human female to sleep with immediately!

Leon: Shouldn’t you be preparing for the Lethal Lottery match?

Krypto: I don’t need to prepare for what I plan to do when that time comes Leon. Winning is no concern of mine, title opportunities will come later, my only objective is to destroy Alhazred and any other competitor whether it happens to be Chris KO, Sam Smith, The Grand Mystique, even Saboteur and Saxton or whoever is in the match can stop me from getting my hands on him.

Krypto gyrates out of the room leaving Leon alone in a semi lit room, just how he is most nights.

24 Hours later

Lester: How are you doing folks, I’m Larry Lester and welcome to my Lottery of Love!

About two dozen fans or so applaud the host of this low budget bachelorette rip off with a forced clap via the applause sign as he wears his sleazy suit with sunglasses even though the stage he’s standing on his indoors. To the right of him are two very handsome young men, suitors if you will, one with long blonde hair, great physique, and eyes you could spend a life time looking into. The next suitor has short black hair, a damn near perfect smile, and the face of what could be a younger George Clooney. These men were paid to appear on this show as it needs attractive people while the third and final suitor sitting next to them paid money to get on the show, and of course that person is Krypto. On the other side of the host is the one bachelorette sitting by her lonesome on that side of the stage. The female is young and blonde, wearing a buttoned up shirt, tie, and skirt, looking very disinterested in what’s going on her around her.

Lester: Now introducing the bachelorette herself, Missy!

The blonde school girl looking female gives a halfhearted smile and a lazy wave to the audience at it now becomes clear she is doing this against her will.

Lester: I believe you have some questions lined up to ask our potential suitors correct Missy?

Missy reluctantly picks up the index cards lying next to her on the floor and begins the first round of the questions.

Missy: Suitor number one, if you were deserted on a remote island with 3 things in your pocket, what would you wish you had?

Suitor 1: You, a bottle of wine, and a comfortable bed.

The blonde hunk receives a generic applause from the crowd but Missy does not look impressed.

Lester: Looks like things are heating up in here, let’s see what the next suitor has to say Missy.

Missy: Suitor number two, what would you change about yourself in a relationship?

Suitor 2: My ability to sacrifice my own well-being to satisfy my significant other.

The dark haired stud is paraded with dozens of awe’s that only make Missy more sick to her stomach, but is irritatingly nudged by Lester to continue to the questionnaire.

Missy: Suitor number three

Krypto: (Think of something Alhazred would say)

Missy: If you could be any animal

Krypto: (Think of something)

Missy: What would you be….

Krypto: (Hurry!!)

Missy: And why?

Krypto: A cat, because I’d love to know what it feels like to be a pussy.

Lester, the suitors, and even the crowd are frozen in shock by Krypto’s answer, nobody seems to find the joke funny except Missy who’s holding her sides trying not to fall over from laughter.

Lester: That was highly inappropriate Kr…Krye….Krypto, is that really even your name?Whatever we apologize folks just continue own questions with the next suitor Missy.

Missy: No, I think I want to ask that Krypto guy another one. If you could be a circus performer, which act would you be?

Krypto: A lion tamer, because the whips they use are similar to the ones I tie up girls with in my basement.

The dark humor of the resident alien once again falls flat with everyone except Missy who for some reason finds the extraterrestrial hilarious, she gestures to ask him more questions but is cut off by Lester.

Lester: Okay that’s enough of that, time to move onto the next activity, seven minute confessional. Each suitor will receive seven minutes alone in the bachelorette in this back closet and will be intimately close, who knows what could happen!

The host then pulls out a box full of little pieces of paper and the suitors proceed to draw numbers to see who will go first. By the luck of the draw Krypto receives number one and begins gyrating in Missy’s direction. The blonde school girl is surprisingly enthusiastic to be alone with the alien as he leads him into the back room.

Krypto: Well here we are, shall the sex begin?

Krypto begins making his way towards Missy skirt but is quickly backhanded away by Missy who is seems to be no stranger in hand to hand combat.

Missy: What do you think you’re doing?!

Krypto: Were you not hypnotized by gyrating and now find me sexually desirable?

Missy: No offense um…Krypto’s your name right? But you’re not exactly the easiest looking on the eyes.

Krypto: Is there something wrong with my ocular vision?

Missy: No it’s just….never mind. I shouldn’t be judging you; at least you had the guts to say how you really felt out there unlike the rest of them.

Krypto: What do you mean?

Missy: Those two guys, that lame host, they're all sleazy jerks, the same type of people who will say whatever they can think of to get in my pants, the same type of people who have used me in the past. But you’re different, you march to the beat of a different drum, you say what you feel, judging by your costume you wear what you want no matter what.

Krypto: It’s actually not a costu-

Missy: I can respect that Krypto, plus you’re funny, you actually remind a lot of this guy I used to know named Alhazred.

Krypto: Alhazred? Mister Alhazred?

Missy: Yeah do you know him?

Krypto: Yeah I’m his fierce rival…I mean fiercely involved friend who hangs out with him all the time. We work together in WZCW.

Missy: Oh so you’re a wrestler, now the costume makes sense, you were that luchador guy named the Angel right?

Krypto: Not exactly…but me and Alhazred are really good friends.

Missy: That’s good to hear, I hope he’s doing okay, back when we were friends he was so depressing and negative all the time I couldn’t handle it and I did what I told my father Mister I wouldn’t and I abandoned Alhazred. I even hear he’s tried searching for me.

Krypto: What has kept you away?

Missy: Life problems I guess, I became depressed myself, I started staying inside more, playing nothing but old Nintendo games and watching Arrested Development reruns so my mother decided to force me onto this lame show so I can do something productive. By I hate it, I really wish I could find fun in things again, ever since I left Alhazred’s side I’ve just had a strange feeling of emptiness. You were the first person to make me laugh in quite some time Krypto.

Krypto: Well there’s this thing called the Lethal Lottery coming up and I can guarantee Alhazred will be there, if you want to be my date or um guest to the event you could see him again.

Missy: Really! That’s amazing; of course I’ll come with you Krypto.

Missy then wraps herself around Krypto in a warm happy embrace, to Krypto this is one of the best feelings of his life, maybe he enjoys a bit too much as he begins rubbing himself on Missy until she pries him off, but the school is much too happy to scold the alien for his creepiness.

Krypto: (Maybe I need to rethink my plan, maybe winning the Lethal Lottery with the human female Alhazred has been pining for by my side will finally be the last straw that breaks his mind into pieces. How great would it be to win the match, go onto face the World Champion at Earth's biggest show of the year. No one would see me as a weirdo anymore, they'd see as a success story. They would call it the greatest upset in history, the least likely organism skyrocketing to top of the ladder. Then I would win, I'd beat the champion whether it be Showtime or Holmes and then I'd make RJ proud, regardless of where he might be, what torturous activities that sinister android SHIT has left him to. I would accomplish something Saxton and Saboteur haven't even managed to do. I wouldn't be a joke anymore, with a beautiful woman by my side, my nemesis emotionally devastated, and a title shot within my grasp I'd finally obtain what I've came for on this planet. I need to win the Lethal Lottery.)

Missy: Everything okay Krypto?

Krypto: Yeah...just thinking is all.

Missy: You know you’re a cool guy Krypto, you want to come back to my place and play some Mario Kart?

Krypto: Sure, but can we play Dr. Mario later, there's some body of parts of yours I feel are due for inspection.

 

[Dave]

Spoiler

[youtube]msI7u1549xY[/youtube]​

As the music blares, we return to the set. Two men sit across from each other politely talking to each other as the music begins to fade. The man on the left; perhaps no more than 30 years old, turns towards the camera. His partner, an older gentleman, keeps his head down towards the desk; studying the papers in front of him with a smile on his face.

Young man: Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen, to WZCW FluX. I am, of course, your host Mark Stanford. Sitting beside me, the wily veteran of the business and one of the long-established writers of WZCW Magazine, Frank Calhoun.

Stanford turns to Calhoun, giving him a slight nod of appreciation. Calhoun finally raises his chin slightly, giving the camera a wry smile as he relaxes back in his chair.

Stanford: Before the break, we looked at some of the members of the WZCW roster that we think will make a difference in this years Lethal Lottery match. And with only 5 days to go until the big night, we want to get right back into that.

Calhoun nods along as Stanford presses on.

Stanford: Now, Frank, before I go any further, I have to ask you about WZCW Magazine. Last week, we heard about the unfortunate discontinuation of the publication. Since then, we've had an outpouring of emotion from WZCW fans asking about it's future. Can you shed some light on the subject for us?

Calhoun: Well, Mark, you have to respect that WZCW is ultimately a business. Unfortunately for the people who worked on the magazine, we just weren't pulling in the sales that we needed to and the future doesn't look bright. For now, at least, the magazine is gone. But in the future, who knows what WZCW executives will do. We all loved our time with the publication and we loved getting the fans input on some of the hot topics in WZCW. I just hope that trend continues in some form or another.

Calhoun's dulcet tones offer a hint of sadness as he ponders the end of his life's work. He turns back to the camera a look of acceptance crosses his face.

Stanford: Truly a sad day for everyone involved.

For a second, a silence engulfs the set as Stanford and Calhoun stop talking. After a moment, a re-energised Stanford picks up where he left off.

Stanford: But moving on to bigger and more regal things, Frank. The next competitor I'd like you to run your eye over is one of your favourites John Constantine.

Behind both of the men, a large TV screen flickers into life before displaying a graphic of the current Elite X Champion.

Stanford: Coming off of his win against Sam Smith at Ascension 63, Constantine will be full of confidence as he heads into another Lethal Lottery.

A smile is now prevalent on the face of Frank Calhoun, his wrinkled features straining.

Calhoun: I'm a big fan of this guy, Mark. He's been around forever seemingly and always gives it his all. His win against Sam Smith at Ascension was nothing more than he deserved if you ask me.

Stanford gives a wry laugh.

Stanford: I guess that's a matter of opinion, Frank. But nevertheless, John Constantine is the new Elite X Champion. Having ended Sam Smith's gargantuan reign as Champion, Constantine has seemingly breathed a new and much needed lease of life into his career. His defeat to Showtime David Cougar at All Or Nothing could have sent The King into a downward spiral but he has bounced back exceptionally well.

Calhoun: I think, what is most important, is that Constantine has finally put all of the rumours of not being able to grab the brass ring to bed. I mean, it was approaching Matt Tastic levels of choking in reality.

Stanford politely smiles as Calhoun continues.

Calhoun: Finally, John Constantine is a Champion in WZCW and no one is going to take that away from him. All of his had work finally means something.

Stanford: I have to agree with you, Frank. Constantine has proved himself against multiple opponents but when it got to crunch time, he just seemed to fail to jump the final obstacle. That said, his match with Showtime Cougar was, surely, a match of the year candidate and he could possibly feel aggrieved that he never won his first Championship then.

Calhoun: Absolutely. I've met with John Constantine in the past. I met and interviewed him just before Kingdom Come last year for the magazine. He came across as a genuinely hard-working and talented man. He gave us some predictions for Kingdom Come and left with my respect. Arrogant? Maybe. But he definitely has the skill required to make some moves in the Lethal Lottery, that much is for sure.

Stanford allows a look of acceptance to cross his features before he turns back towards the camera. He briefly looks at the papers on his desk before looking back up and continuing.

Stanford: This Lethal Lottery match marks the 3rd time that Constantine has been involved. And when you look into the previous two outings for the Power Trip, you have to deem him somewhat of a wildcard.

Calhoun nods in agreement.

Calhoun: Yeah, I would have to agree. Let's face it, Constantine is a talented wrestler but his appearances in the Lethal Lottery have been marred with bad luck and bad decisions, that much is abundantly true. He always finds a way to mix himself with the big-time players, forcing himself into the closing stages of the match, before falling prey to some poor luck.

Stanford: Let's look back to Lethal Lottery 4. John Constantine entered at number 18, around half way through the 30-man Lottery. Unfortunately for the Power Trip, he was eliminated before the final entrant, Mr Baller, could make it to the ring. Let's take a look back at how Constantine was ousted at Lethal Lottery 4.

Behind the two men, the screen filled with a picture of John Constantine is replaced with a video of the previous Lethal Lottery match.

Lethal Lottery IV​

Dave picks up Holmes and slams his head on to the announcer’s table. Holmes grabs his head in pain as Dave grabs his hair and throws him into the ring. Holmes rolls in and bumbles his way to his feet. He finds that his ally, Constantine, has finally re-entered the ring. He frantically tells Constantine to take out Dave, but Constantine is still recovering from previous wounds. Dave slides into the ring as Holmes turns around and is scared out of his wits. Dave runs towards Holmes and leaps up for a dropkick! Holmes dodges like a coward and Constantine stumbles into the devastating manoeuvre! We see Constantine fly over the ropes and into the outside mat! Dave looks out at Constantine as the crowd cheers.

As the video finishes, the previous picture of Constantine replaces the feed. Both men turn back towards the camera as Mark Stanford searches for words.

Stanford: Let me ask you a question, Frank. When you look at that, do you immediately think that Constantine was just the wrong person in the wrong place? Or, like a lot of other commentators, do you feel as though this was karma on The Elite X Champion?

Calhoun: You know, I think it's a bit of both honestly. Constantine knew the dangers of aligning himself with Steven Holmes and I guess that you could say that this was just one of those dangers. Unfortunately for Constantine, he was blind-sided by Big Dave and sacrificed by Steven Holmes. When you look back on it, this is where the alliance between Holmes and Constantine really began to show crack. Constantine is a proud man and to be so routinely sacrificed by someone he trusted would not have gone down well at all.

Stanford raises a finger as Calhoun finishes his sentence. There is a sharp look of intrigue in Stanford's eyes now.

Stanford: That's a good point. Frank. In both of Constantine's previous appearances at the Lethal Lottery, he has found himself in an alliance with another roster member. At Lethal Lottery 3, The Power Trip had aligned himself with Showtime David Cougar, the eventual winner of the match. Once again, you could say that Constantine paid the price for Cougar's mistakes as Reynolds went to town on him with a steel chair. Of course, it gifted him the number 20 spot in the Lottery but it was just a matter of time until Constantine was ousted from the match. Let's have a look.

Once again, the picture of Constantine is replaced by a video feed as highlights of Constantine at Lethal Lottery 3 is shown.

Lethal Lottery III​

Constantine falls forwards onto his knees and Reynolds smashes him in the back. Constantine doesn’t move for several moments as Reynolds stands over him. He tries to crawl away, but Reynolds grabs him by the hair and lifts him up so Constantine is on his knees. Constantine looks dazed, but still tries to plead with Reynolds to have mercy. Reynolds lifts the chair above his head and says “This is for Dominic”, before smashing it against Constantine’s skull with tremendous force. Constantine falls forward, a pool of blood gathering almost instantly under his forehead. A group of referees get into the ring and surround Reynolds, trying to get the dented and bloody chair out of his hands. But Reynolds refuses to give it up and rolls out of the ring still clutching it. He walks up the entrance ramp without looking back as the referees tend to Constantine.

Harrys: The winner as a result of disqualification... And entrant number 20 into the Lethal Lottery match... Constantine.

Stanford: Again, an argument could be made that Constantine was simply unlucky that he found himself on the wrong end of a beating by Austin Reynolds. But you really have to think that Constantine finds himself in these situations because of his own actions.

Calhoun: A case could be made for that line of thinking, absolutely. The interesting thing is how Constantine is going to cope when he really doesn't have any friends in the Lethal Lottery match. We have seen how Constantine has found himself on the wrong side of some luck. But now, when he doesn't hold any alliances going into the match, I think we are going to see a man who has it all to play for.

Stanford turns away from his broadcast partner.

Stanford: With the ultimate destruction of Constantine's Empire, we have seen a Power Trip who is driven and motivated. He said that he has cast off dead weight and has made himself a more efficient and destructive unit. But it really remains to be seen whether Constantine can function as an individual in a multi-man match. If the King For A Day match is anything to go by, then we could perhaps see a surprise win from the current Elite X Champion.

Stanford fixes his papers for a second before putting his finger to his left ear. As the message from production is filtered through to him, another slick smile becomes prevalent on the host's features.

Stanford: A couple of days ago, I caught up with Constantine at his home in Chicago, where The Power Trip gave me some of his thoughts about the Lethal Lottery match. Here's what the Power Trip had to say.

In the guest room of Constantine's grand abode, the current Elite X Champion and the host of WZCW FluX sit comfortably. Behind them, a great and roaring fire dominates the background. A more casual-looking Constantine holds the Elite X Championship gleefully on his lap as Stanford settles himself.

Stanford: I gotta thank you, Trip. To take time out of your busy schedule, especially this close to the Lethal Lottery is more than appreciated.

Constantine gives Stanford a nod as the host presses on.

Stanford: To get to business though, a lot of commentators have noted that you seem really removed from the real main event business since your defeat at All Or Nothing. It's even been said that you may be content with your lot in WZCW and may see the Lottery as more of a relaxed environment because of that. How would you respond?

Constantine runs one hand over the Elite X Championship before looking at his interviewer with a look of aggressive dismissal.

Constantine: As much as I would l love to see the mindless peons of WZCW tear each other apart for one shot at the World Heavyweight Championship, I am afraid that I cannot take a night off, Mr. Stanford. You see, the Lethal Lottery match is somewhat peculiar by nature. One simply cannot help but be drawn into it's mire and embattled within it's confines. As satisfying as it would be to rest as others try to propel themselves into the main event at Kingdom Come, I am afraid that my own personal integrity will not allow it. I simply have to right the wrong of All Or Nothing.

Stanford: I'll bet. But going back to All Or Nothing this year, champ. You opponent that night, Showtime David Cougar would be a trend-setter of sorts if you were to win. Winning the Lethal Lottery match as Elite X Champion can be replicated and I bet that is what your goal is?

Constantine squirms as the name of his sworn enemy escapes from the lips of his interviewer.

Constantine: If it were not for me, Showtime David Cougar would never have won the Lethal Lottery. He hid behind me and my aggression for the duration of my stay, hoping beyond hope that I would be there to pick up the pieces should be fall. Showtime David Cougar limped over the line with nothing at all to spare.

A fiery look in the eyes of The Power Trip betrays his soft-spoken words.

Constantine: But I will show everyone how it should be done. For the first time in history, the Elite X Champion will win the Lottery in style, showing everyone why he is the best wrestler in the company. All the while, the so-called “trend setter” will be busy losing his World Heavyweight Championship.

Constantine finishes his sentence with gusto before looking back down at his prized possession.

Stanford: Whilst we touched on the subject, I simply have to ask you about the World Heavyweight Championship match. Two men whom you have been closely linked with in the past go toe-to-toe for the Championship on Sunday night in front of a packed house. Who do you think will get the win?

Constantine stares a hole through his interviewer, not willing to answer the question. The tense atmosphere continues as Stanford waits eagerly for a reply.

Constantine: Truthfully, Mr. Stanford, I could not give less of a damn. You see, I have scores to settle with Steven Holmes and Showtime Cougar. Regardless of who wins the World Heavyweight Championship, I will be waiting for them at Kingdom Come. I will close the book on that chapter of my life with a win against either man and be crowned the first ever double Champion in WZCW.

Stanford recoils at the venom in the Elite X Champions words.

Stanford: Forgive me, Trip. But what makes you so confident? With your Empire in ruins, how can you be so sure of a win?

Constantine softens his gaze somewhat, allowing a sick smile to wash over him.

Constantine: Because I, like Showtime David Cougar, Ty Burna, Big Will and Titus, have a game plan. Regardless of what happens beforehand, I assure you that John Constantine will make the headlines. I have an ace in the hole, Mr. Stanford. I can promise you that John Constantine will be the man to beat at the Lethal Lottery and with... a game plan... like mine. It will not be hard to see why.

Stanford gives Constantine a smile as Constantine returns to his Elite X Championship.

Stanford: Strange words from The Power Trip only a few days ago. What is his overall game plan and why is he so sure of a victory? I guess we'll have to wait until Lethal Lottery to find out. But please join us after the break as we look at some more big players in this years Lottery and attempt to answer the question that's on everyone's lips... Who's returning at the Lottery?

The lights dim once again as the shows music begins to play them out once again.

-------------------------------​

tl:dr?

Spoiler

The RP takes place in a TV studio where a WZCW related show (FluX) is behind held. The two hosts talk about Constantine's previous outings in Lethal Lottery matches and how he has only been in matches as part of an alliance. With his only alliance now dead, how will Constantine fare on his own?

The RP finishes with a short but sharp interview from the Elite X Champion who talks about a higher "game-plan". Peaking the curiosity of the hosts.

 

[Viola Moonlight]

???​

"Breathe in..." instructs a female's voice, followed by the sound of someone inhaling.

"... and breath out." Again, as the voice demands, a large exhale of air can be heard.

This process repeats itself as the one commanding voice that can be heard continues to control someone's breathing, for only a few more times. As the last breath of air is exhaled, there is a long pause of silence until the same female's voice begins talking once more.

"Are you feeling calm? Are your thoughts collected?" she asks.

"Yes" replies another female's voice.

"Good. Now, what I'm going to ask you may cause you to become anxious or nervous, scared even. If at any point you start to feel any of these emotions, we can terminate this exercise because what you are about to do is nothing more than a pure exercise. You can open your eyes at any point." The first female re-assures. "Do you understand?"

"Yes" repeats the second female.

"Excellent. What I need you to do is project the scene within your head and what you see is what I'd like you to narrate to me. When you are ready, you can proceed."

Another deep breath can be heard being taken as the first female awaits for the second to respond. It takes a moment for the second female to show any signs of progress, getting ready to imagine the scene. Suddenly, colours and shades begin flashing in front of the nothingness that we've seen since the breathing began: slowly but surely, these random pieces of information scramble together to form a clouded image, hazy enough to distort the image but still clear enough to distinguish what is popping up. It's a hand attached to an almost lifeless arm, stretching out into the distance. A grunting noise can be heard, prompting the first woman to respond.

"What do you see?"

"A hand... reaching out."

"Whose hand? And what is it reaching out for?"

The image flickers before being viewed from a different angle, this time revealing more of the scene. The hand belongs to Sandy Deserts, who lies almost helpless in what appears to be a wrestling ring, reaching out towards something. Quickly, a transition is made to view what Sandy is reaching out for... but all that can be seen is a figure, standing there watching Sandy as she feels pain. The second female begins to struggle with this image, grunting painful noises.

"Sandy? Whose hand is it?"

"... uh..."

Before Sandy (the second female) can respond, the image becomes highly distorted and extremely fuzzy, eventually going back to complete darkness for a mere second until Sandy opens her eyes, revealing that she is inside the office of Michelle Frost who is sitting in front of her, concerned about the well-being of Sandy as she is almost panting at the sight she saw. Sandy leans forward on her knees whilst remaining seated, trying to recover from the exercise.

"Are you alright, Sandy?" Michelle (the first female) asks.

Sandy nods in response before leaning back into the chair, rubbing her eyes before nodding again. She seems to be very shaken up by the experience.

"Is it okay if I ask you once more? Whose hand did you see?"

"My own." Sandy replies without much hesitation.

"And what were you reaching out for?" Michelle inquires.

Sandy initially doesn't respond, sitting in her chair staring at one spot. Michelle looks at her eyes, trying to determine what lies behind them but she sees nothing.

"I did not see anything."

"You were reaching out... for nothing?" Michelle confirms.

"Apparently so." Sandy responds, although Michelle doesn't look satisfied.

"Well, I don't think that is a valid answer. Someone such as yourself would not be agreeing to do these sessions with me if you weren't reaching out for anything. Maybe I could jog your memory because this scene looks very familiar, something that happened as recently as the last televised WZCW show."

Sandy looks directly at Michelle with surprise.

"You watch WZCW?"

"You've become a regular patient of mine and it's much easier for me to research a patient should their life be documented on camera. As most doctors would feel, I'm not a fan of the wrestling concept but I make sure to pay attention when you're on screen. I do recall that the most recent match you were involved in cost you a hefty emotional and mental toll."

"Yes, I... faced Celeste Crimson in a match that I challenged her to and she defeated me. So what?"

Michelle pauses for a second, jotting something down on her notebook in front of her.

"I can see why you couldn't make out that image because you have tried to block what has happened. After your match with Celeste, you remained trapped in her submission, causing you further pain than what you were already in... but as she left the ring, leaving you in the centre of the ring to feel the pain, you were reaching out to her. Now tell me, why would someone reach out to another just after they made you feel pain? More importantly, why block that scenario out of your memory?"

Normally, tough questions that Michelle had just posed to Sandy would stun a patient, going on a brief journey within their own mind and soul to figure out the answers but for Sandy, there was no pause before her answer.

"Did you see the struggle that I went through to imagine the scenario in the first place, Michelle? Did you see how hard it was for me to make sure that image didn't surface in my mind again? It causes a lot of mental and emotional stress, something that no athlete needs to deal with at any point in their career, especially when the physical aspect slowly begins deteriorating due to age and experience."

"Then why don't you leave wrestling?"

"Because that's all I've got left!" Sandy screams as she stands up from her chair, making Michelle jump.

Sandy puts her arms on her hips and begins pacing around the room as Michelle calms herself down from the unexpected yell by Sandy, who continues walking around. She wipes her face with one hand before going back to her chair and leaning forward on its frame.

"I have nothing left, Michelle. I have nothing important left in my life apart from wrestling."

"I know that you've lost some very important friends in your life but I'm sure there are plenty of..."

"How are you planning to finish that sentence? Plenty of what exactly? Name one of something that I have plenty of." Sandy dares.

"Okay... what about coming back to psychology? You're still a doctor. You could join the Professor in his spiritual quest... What about your family?"

"Family?" Sandy laughs. "I've never had a family, Michelle." She says in a deeper, rougher tone of voice. "My mother was an alcoholic who fell pregnant to some stranger, a man who is my biological father and a man who I have yet to find... but why should I care about finding out who he is if he didn't stick around? And honestly, who would if you knew the mother of your child was blind drunk at every hour of the day, willing to sell her own kid for booze money... and I wish I was joking about that" Michelle raises an eyebrow as Sandy takes a pause. "Did you know what she said to Child Services when they approached her? When they took me away, all she kept asking was when she would be receiving the cheque for selling me off to them. I was informed of that on my 14th birthday." Sandy laughs again as she reminisces. "There's a reality check for you Michelle; a brief overview of my family in 30 seconds. The only real family that I've ever know was my friends and the wrestling business. Since the only friends I have left are gone, what choice do I have than to stick with the last thing I've got."

"You can start anew."

"Don't you think I've already tried?" Sandy asks, raising her voice slightly as she stands back up vertically. "The Professor took me in when I was a complete wreck the first time and spent years trying to build me into a normal person but look where it has landed me: I'm back inside of a shrink's office, going through the same dilemma's and emotions that I went through back then... It's just going to be a vicious cycle of therapy sessions and downward spirals until I'm too old to physically compete, spending the last of my days sitting in a nursing home riddled with arthritis without any family or friends to visit." Sandy begins slowly pacing around the room again, using hand gestures whilst she speaks. "If I quit wrestling to prevent that situation from happening, I'll probably end up in some mental institution again because I every place and person that made me feel like I belonged to something had been removed from my life and the only thing I would have left is myself, shattered in pieces... unable to be repaired. Personally, I'd rather wither away in a nursing home than die lonely sitting inside of solitary confinement."

As Sandy ends her sentence, she reaches the one window in the room and stops, taking a look outside as the room fills with silence once more. Michelle, stunned by what she has heard, jots down more notes and reviews them. She shakes her head as she cannot believe the person that Sandy is, the person that mentored her into becoming the doctor she is today. Eventually, it is Sandy who speaks up again.

"Is it so much to ask to become as happy as those people out there are?" Sandy asks.

This statement by Sandy prompts Michelle to turn around, staring at Sandy. She assumes that she won't be moving for a while and decides to get up out of her chair and walk over to her, to see exactly what Sandy is seeing as she stares through the window: it was the sight of the park that had been there since the Professor was only known as a doctor. The trees were still around, blossoming into beauty as people run around the park; sitting down on its lush grass; or just passing by.

"Do you remember the amount of times that you used to come in to this office when I was head of this clinic and I would stare outside this window?" Michelle nods in response to Sandy. "I used to picture myself being someone, anyone down there because I knew that any one of those individuals would have had an easier upbringing and life than I've had. Sometimes, I wished I could switch bodies with someone down there, just to feel what its like to be 'normal.'


"Is that why you decided to become a psychiatrist as well?"

Sandy paused before answering. "Mostly. A part of me became a psychiatrist so I could connect with other people who felt the same as I do, even going as far as trying to find someone who was worse off than I am... but in the end, the only thing that could show me something as bad was a mirror, which is why I had that episode in my apartment when I smashed that glass. I... I just couldn't bear to see someone else be what I've become."

"And that's why you won't come back as a doctor." Sandy nods, indicating that Michelle was speaking the truth.

There is a moment of silence that is heard between the two ladies until a buzzer goes off; an alarm set by Michelle to begin wrapping up the session and prepare for the next patient. Michelle smiles at Sandy awkwardly as she continues to stare out the window, heading over and turning off the alarm.

"I guess we can say we made some great progress today. I honestly didn't think we'd come this far so quickly." Sandy doesn't respond nor moves from her position, still standing and staring out the window. "So... where will you go from here Sandy?" Michelle inquiries, trying to break the awkwardness of Sandy being unresponsive.

Sandy continues to look for a moment before turning to Michelle who has opened the door for her, waiting at the front of the room as the next patient (a male in a suit) anxiously waits outside the room to start his session but waits for Sandy to leave the room first.

"I guess I'm going to go to the only place I have left. What other choice do I have?"

With that, Sandy moves away from the window and goes to exit, extending a hand to Michelle. Instead of shaking her hand, Michelle gives Sandy a hug, breaking the professional bond of a doctor-patient relationship. Sandy is a little stunned as Michelle lets go of the hug, allowing her to leave. As she does, the male walks into the room as Michelle closes the door.

"Does every patient of yours get one of those when their session is finished?" says the man jokingly.

Michelle darts the patient a look who instantly becomes serious and takes a seat on the patient's chair, allowing Michelle to start the session.

************************************

At A Live WZCW House Show Event​

1... 2... 3!

The crowd in the arena pops loudly as referee Katie Shepard slaps the mat for the third time, signifying that Sandy Deserts has won her match via pinfall. She gets up from the canvas to her feet, having her arms raised in the air by Katie as the crowd continues to shower their praise upon her as Sandy's music hits the speakers in the arena. Despite the arena being smaller than a usual event, the crowd is still as loud as ever as they continue to cheer for Sandy's victory. The male competitor who she wrestled (a local talent), slowly rolls out of the ring as WZCW Interviewer Rebecca Serra enters the ring, looking to get a post-match interview. Sandy hugs Katie and thanks her for officiating before Katie exits as well, helping the local talent up the ramp who isn't able to walk on his own. Sandy's theme music dies down as Serra approaches Sandy, who also receives a hug from the wrestler. The crowd is still cheering but eventually, they too lower their volume to allow the interview to take place.

"Congratulations on your victory tonight Sandy." Becky says with a smile, "You had a great performance tonight." The crowd cheers, agreeing with Becky. Sandy thanks her before Becky continues. "This is the last official WZCW event before we move from Peoria, Illinois..." the crowd cheers loudly for their home town. "... to head to Chicago in 7 days time where the 5th Anniversary of the Lethal Lottery will be taking place. Whilst you haven't had quite a successful run in WZCW as the other guys on the roster may have had, you still have the support of the fans who will be rooting for you when it comes to the Lottery should you be one of its random entrants. How do you feel your chances are heading into the Lottery?"

As Sandy catches her breath and goes to speak, the crowd cheers again for Sandy, with a small chant breaking out in her name. She stops and allows the fans to share their opinions, causing Sandy to smile as she sees the various people who are in support of her.

"To be quite honest Becky, it's going to be a tough challenge for me, easily the toughest challenge I've had to face since I've come out of my extended hiatus. Actually, scratch that: through all my years of travelling the world to places such as Mexico, Japan and most recently, the United States of America..." a huge cheer for the home country, causing a short USA chant to break out. "... I don't think I've ever had a challenge as big or as daunting as this. Just looking at the match alone is going to make things difficult and that's not eve taking into account that I'm not getting any younger as my body is wearing out and slowing down with every passing day, not to mention my abysmal win/loss record since joining WZCW. The odds are pretty stacked against me so I'm just praying that I don't receive one of the earlier numbers."

"And I'm not the only one who will have the same amount of pressure heading into the match either. Should I enter the Lottery, there will be 29 other superstars who will have the same odds that I have to face and attempt to overcome. Let's take a look at someone like Rush." The crowd heavily for the name drop. "As you can hear Becky, he's got the disdain from the crowd. I've heard that reaction a few times before and I've got to tell you, listening to that during an important match can get on your nerves and it's causes many wrestlers to make mistakes. Not only has he got the crowd against him, the man just lost the Eurasian Championship he worked so hard to get and made into a whole new title... and then lost to the World Champion the following fortnight. That's got to lower someone's morale quick smart. Don't forget that Rush is much older than I am, which means he's practically an ancient relic..." some laughs from the audience. "... and has a history of heart problems. Despite all that, he is considered to be one of the favourites in the Lottery. He is a big powerhouse of an athlete who will be able to dominate a lot of the smaller competition such as myself. That's scary Becky... and that's only one competitor. We haven't even begun to scratch the surface of the amount of talent that will potentially enter the squared circle such as the unpredictability of Barbosa whose mind could snap at any moment; or the hi-flying antics of Triple X would made his name in the previous Lethal Lottery; or even one of the newer guys to join the company like Grizzly Bob or Thrash who could suddenly have the performance of a lifetime. There is so much to consider when weighing out your chances that you'll be stressing yourself trying to figure out the mathematics behind it all and will forego all the physical training one needs to prepare for such a match. But... at the end of the day, I'm just glad to be able to receive the opportunity to enter the Lethal Lottery and compete for these people."

The crowd begins cheering as Sandy is in the middle of the ring, spinning slowly in a circle as she point to every section of the audience. Another smiles comes along her face as she sees people standing up and trying to make more noise.

"Wrestling is the only thing I really have left in my life and because of you people coming out to purchase tickets, watch the shows and sometimes go on the internet forums and bitch about how this particular wrestler should get pushed or that particular wrestler shouldn't have won..." a mixture of cheers and laughs are heard throughout the arena "... it makes all the back and joint pain I receive on a day-to-day basis completely worth it. If it wasn't for you guys cheering and chanting for me then I wouldn't be standing in the middle of this ring, wrestling in the greatest company in the world, about to prepare myself for the freaking Lethal Lottery! I'm already excited and it isn't May 12th yet... but as long as you guys continue to support me, I'll be willing to walk out through those curtains and come in this ring to do what I do best, regardless of whether I am victorious or not."

Sandy turns back to Becky and looks at her. "So when you ask me how my chances are? I don't care what the chances of me winning are: all I want to do is go out there, put on the best performance I can and if I win the Lottery, great! I will see you all at the main event of Kingdom Come 5 but if I don't win, I can come back on the next set of shows and I'll know that through all the losses and defeats, these guys will be here to have my back because we are a family and not matter what happens, a true family will be no matter what... and honestly, you guys are the only family that I truly care about. Thank you guys for all your support and I'll see you at the Lottery!"

Sandy thanks Becky once more for the interview before they hug and the theme music for Sandy hits the speakers once more. Becky exits the ring and allows Sandy to have one more moment with the fans as they cheer for her. She also exits the ring, going to ringside and hi-fiving the hands of the fans and giving hugs to the children. After a while, she heads up the ramp and turns around when she reaches the top of the stage, looking back at the audience that adores her, causing a tear to come down her eyes before she heads through the curtain, with the fans still cheering for her.​

 

[Muffin Top Merkley]

The Book of Genesis
King James Version

Chapter Six

[1] And it came to pass, when men began to multiply on the face of the earth, and daughters were born unto them,

[2] That the sons of God saw the daughters of men that they were fair; and they took them wives of all which they chose.

[3] And the LORD said, My spirit shall not always strive with man, for that he also is flesh: yet his days shall be an hundred and twenty years.

[4] There were giants in the earth in those days; and also after that, when the sons of God came in unto the daughters of men, and they bare children to them, the same became mighty men which were of old, men of renown.

[5] And GOD saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every imagination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually.

[6] And it repented the LORD that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him at his heart.

[7] And the LORD said, I will destroy man whom I have created from the face of the earth; both man, and beast, and the creeping thing, and the fowls of the air; for it repenteth me that I have made them.

[8] But Noah found grace in the eyes of the LORD.

[9] These are the generations of Noah: Noah was a just man and perfect in his generations, and Noah walked with God.

[10] And Noah begat three sons, Shem, Ham, and Japheth.

[11] The earth also was corrupt before God, and the earth was filled with violence.

[12] And God looked upon the earth, and, behold, it was corrupt; for all flesh had corrupted his way upon the earth.

[Color=RoyalBlue3]Professional wrestling as I had come to know it is unrecognizable; covered beneath layers and layers of filth, deceit and fraud. A machine that had paved roads and provided many men with an honest mean of providing for their families has been discarded and left to rust.

Like an invasive species, corruption has converted professional wrestling into a ****ehouse for the lazy and selfish, the weak and pathetic, as well as the conmen and their politics

The lazy children that make up today’s generation of wrestling lack the drive and determination that once flowed deep. Uncaringly they bank on the names of their fathers and the willingness of wrestling promotions who eagerly pimp out second and third generation wrestlers. Selfishly, neither party could give a damn about soiling the names of the good and hardworking men that made it all possible.

Showmanship and a competitive nature between wrestlers used to determine success. We climbed over each other to earn the right to grab onto the brass ring that shined in the spotlight. Our position on the card and concurrent worth within the company was decided by in-ring performances and arena sales, not ass-kissing, backstage backstabbing or sleeping with the company’s top star. We fought for our spot and then refused to let go once we had earned it, which we always did inside the ring.

Previously, if you failed the onus belonged to you. Now your failure could result in accidentally sitting in someone’s chair in the backstage catering area or someone’s girlfriend asking for your humiliation before blowing the boss.

The Devil takes many forms and his biggest trick was disguising himself as millions of wrestling fans.

The sick and perverted fans who demand their voices be heard and their orders followed. They clamour for the heads of the very men they idolize and circle like sharks at the first tease of blood being spilt. Professional wrestling has become a bloodsport because of the fans, and the weak quickly oblige.

Untalented wrestlers are willing to scalp themselves or drop their opponents and peers onto their heads from twenty-five feet above the ground for a glimpse of fame and temporary support of the crowd. There no longer is any respect for yourself or your opponents and most wrestler’s have no confidence in their own ability to wrestle without having to resort to cheap and pitiful tricks to entertain the ungrateful fans.

Corruption and sleaze have forcibly removed nearly everything what was true about professional wrestling. [/COLOR]

[13] And God said unto Noah, The end of all flesh is come before me; for the earth is filled with violence through them; and, behold, I will destroy them with the earth.

[14] Make thee an ark of gopher wood; rooms shalt thou make in the ark, and shalt pitch it within and without with pitch.

[15] And this is the fashion which thou shalt make it of: The length of the ark shall be three hundred cubits, the breadth of it fifty cubits, and the height of it thirty cubits.

[16] A window shalt thou make to the ark, and in a cubit shalt thou finish it above; and the door of the ark shalt thou set in the side thereof; with lower, second, and third stories shalt thou make it.

[17] And, behold, I, even I, do bring a flood of waters upon the earth, to destroy all flesh, wherein is the breath of life, from under heaven; and every thing that is in the earth shall die.

[18] But with thee will I establish my covenant; and thou shalt come into the ark, thou, and thy sons, and thy wife, and thy sons' wives with thee.

[19] And of every living thing of all flesh, two of every sort shalt thou bring into the ark, to keep them alive with thee; they shall be male and female.

[20] Of fowls after their kind, and of cattle after their kind, of every creeping thing of the earth after his kind, two of every sort shall come unto thee, to keep them alive.

[21] And take thou unto thee of all food that is eaten, and thou shalt gather it to thee; and it shall be for food for thee, and for them.

[22] Thus did Noah; according to all that God commanded him, so did he.

[Color=RoyalBlue3]I am the only ray of light in the darkness. I am the purist that represents the better days of professional wrestling; days that are seemingly long gone. The evil and wickedness within professional wrestling has grown too strong, far too quick. I am left with no other alternative if I hope to remove its rotting stench and restore wrestling to its greatest era.

A forest fire can roar throughout the wilderness for weeks engulfing everything in its path and leaving a barren trail of destruction its wake. What once was a densely populated growth of green trees, brush and Mother Nature is reduced into nothing. Only black char and scorched earth remain.

But from within the ashes of the devastation, there is eventual re-growth and restoral.

Life flourishes after the death.

The forest begins to grow again. It is stronger, healthier and pure. It is free from any disease and deformities that had previously plagued it.

WZCW in its current form needs to die so professional wrestling can return to its glory and grow stronger, healthier and pure. Free from the sins and mistakes of today’s generations.

I am the act of God that can destroy the world.

I am the vessel that can protect and salvage what needs to be saved.[/COLOR]

Chapter Seven

[1] And the LORD said unto Noah, Come thou and all thy house into the ark; for thee have I seen righteous before me in this generation.

[2] Of every clean beast thou shalt take to thee by sevens, the male and his female: and of beasts that are not clean by two, the male and his female.

[3] Of fowls also of the air by sevens, the male and the female; to keep seed alive upon the face of all the earth.

[4] For yet seven days, and I will cause it to rain upon the earth forty days and forty nights; and every living substance that I have made will I destroy from off the face of the earth.

[5] And Noah did according unto all that the LORD commanded him.

[6] And Noah was six hundred years old when the flood of waters was upon the earth.

[7] And Noah went in, and his sons, and his wife, and his sons' wives with him, into the ark, because of the waters of the flood.

[8] Of clean beasts, and of beasts that are not clean, and of fowls, and of every thing that creepeth upon the earth,

[9] There went in two and two unto Noah into the ark, the male and the female, as God had commanded Noah.

[10] And it came to pass after seven days, that the waters of the flood were upon the earth.

[11] In the six hundredth year of Noah's life, in the second month, the seventeenth day of the month, the same day were all the fountains of the great deep broken up, and the windows of heaven were opened.

[12] And the rain was upon the earth forty days and forty nights.

[13] In the selfsame day entered Noah, and Shem, and Ham, and Japheth, the sons of Noah, and Noah's wife, and the three wives of his sons with them, into the ark;

[14] They, and every beast after his kind, and all the cattle after their kind, and every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth after his kind, and every fowl after his kind, every bird of every sort.

[15] And they went in unto Noah into the ark, two and two of all flesh, wherein is the breath of life.

[16] And they that went in, went in male and female of all flesh, as God had commanded him: and the LORD shut him in.

[Color=RoyalBlue3] The rain started a year ago when I returned at the Lethal Lottery. At the time it was a fine mist, a symbolic baptism of my return to professional wrestling.

At the time, I returned for the fans. I defied the medical advice of doctors and cast aside the worries of my friends and family to return to a world that I thought I knew. Unbeknownst to me, everything that I thought I knew and had worked so hard to create was gone and openly mocked by disrespectful fans and worse, the wrestlers that walked on the road that I helped pave.[/COLOR]

[17] And the flood was forty days upon the earth; and the waters increased, and bare up the ark, and it was lift up above the earth.

[18] And the waters prevailed, and were increased greatly upon the earth; and the ark went upon the face of the waters.

[Color=RoyalBlue3]The rain fell harder at Meltdown 70 when I stared across the ring against the man that nearly ended my life: Blade. Our Last Man Standing match wasn’t about seeking revenge for the events that happened at Kingdom Come II, it was about me proving to myself that I was able to survive in this new world and that you can teach an old dog some new tricks.

During that match, my eyes were opened to the rules of the new game that I was now playing. It was the cheer of the fans that chilled my bones. The cheers that I returned to bathe in, were now calling for my demise as they encouraged Blade to grab the ladder and break me.

For the brief moment, Blade was their hero and I was meat.

Every concussion, broken bone, ounce of spilt blood was forgotten by the fans. They weren’t concerned or worried about my health. They weren’t appreciative of everything that I had built. They wanted blood and they wanted it then and now.

The skies opened and rain poured down when I became the EurAsian Champion at Meltdown 75.

Everything that the wrestling world had become accustom too, I defied.

I wrestled for myself and no longer for the undeserving fans. I proved that the older generation of wrestling reigned supreme as defeated one unappreciative punk after another. Kids climbed the mountain in an attempt to make their name off of my legacy but they all learned during their fall back down to reality that a powerbomb beats a flip or a gimmick[/COLOR]

[19] And the waters prevailed exceedingly upon the earth; and all the high hills, that were under the whole heaven, were covered.

[20] Fifteen cubits upward did the waters prevail; and the mountains were covered.

[21] And all flesh died that moved upon the earth, both of fowl, and of cattle, and of beast, and of every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth, and every man:

[22] All in whose nostrils was the breath of life, of all that was in the dry land, died.

[23] And every living substance was destroyed which was upon the face of the ground, both man, and cattle, and the creeping things, and the fowl of the heaven; and they were destroyed from the earth: and Noah only remained alive, and they that were with him in the ark.

[24] And the waters prevailed upon the earth an hundred and fifty days.

[Color=RoyalBlue3]The rain will fall the hardest at Lethal Lottery this year

The torrential downpour that my victory will bring will wash away all of the dust and filth that currently covers the good and pure. With a guaranteed match for the WZCW Championship in my pocket, I will devastate and tear down this company.

Every inch of this company will burn. Every immoral pillar will be demolished and every revolting post will be uprooted. Many will die in WZCW with only a few being worthy of pardons and given the gift of the opportunity to survive. My razing of this company will allow professional wrestling to survive.

A murder of one to save thousands is a fair sacrifice, especially when the victim is already tainted and abandoned. The mercy killing of WZCW is one that the world can accept and understand.

I am the flood that will cleanse the depraved. I am the fire that will sear the world.

I am the eradicator and the destroyer of professional wrestling and my name will be remembered forever.[/COLOR]

Chapter Eight

[1] And God remembered Noah, and every living thing, and all the cattle that was with him in the ark: and God made a wind to pass over the earth, and the waters asswaged;

[2] The fountains also of the deep and the windows of heaven were stopped, and the rain from heaven was restrained;

[3] And the waters returned from off the earth continually: and after the end of the hundred and fifty days the waters were abated.

[4] And the ark rested in the seventh month, on the seventeenth day of the month, upon the mountains of Ararat.

[5] And the waters decreased continually until the tenth month: in the tenth month, on the first day of the month, were the tops of the mountains seen.

[6] And it came to pass at the end of forty days, that Noah opened the window of the ark which he had made:

[7] And he sent forth a raven, which went forth to and fro, until the waters were dried up from off the earth.

[8] Also he sent forth a dove from him, to see if the waters were abated from off the face of the ground;

[9] But the dove found no rest for the sole of her foot, and she returned unto him into the ark, for the waters were on the face of the whole earth: then he put forth his hand, and took her, and pulled her in unto him into the ark.

[10] And he stayed yet other seven days; and again he sent forth the dove out of the ark;

[11] And the dove came in to him in the evening; and, lo, in her mouth was an olive leaf pluckt off: so Noah knew that the waters were abated from off the earth.

[12] And he stayed yet other seven days; and sent forth the dove; which returned not again unto him any more.

[13] And it came to pass in the six hundredth and first year, in the first month, the first day of the month, the waters were dried up from off the earth: and Noah removed the covering of the ark, and looked, and, behold, the face of the ground was dry.

[14] And in the second month, on the seven and twentieth day of the month, was the earth dried.

[15] And God spake unto Noah, saying,

[16] Go forth of the ark, thou, and thy wife, and thy sons, and thy sons' wives with thee.

[17] Bring forth with thee every living thing that is with thee, of all flesh, both of fowl, and of cattle, and of every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth; that they may breed abundantly in the earth, and be fruitful, and multiply upon the earth.

[18] And Noah went forth, and his sons, and his wife, and his sons' wives with him:

[19] Every beast, every creeping thing, and every fowl, and whatsoever creepeth upon the earth, after their kinds, went forth out of the ark.

[20] And Noah builded an altar unto the LORD; and took of every clean beast, and of every clean fowl, and offered burnt offerings on the altar.

[21] And the LORD smelled a sweet savour; and the LORD said in his heart, I will not again curse the ground any more for man's sake; for the imagination of man's heart is evil from his youth; neither will I again smite any more every thing living, as I have done.

[22] While the earth remaineth, seedtime and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night shall not cease.

[Color=RoyalBlue3]Life flourishes after death.

The dead will be buried into obscurity and wrestling will be rebuilt by my hammer and will be constructed on the ashes of the evil. Tarnished gold will shine once again and the value of what it means to be a true champion of professional wrestling will rise to its true worth.

I will main event Kingdom Come V and become the WZCW Champion. With my win and me on top, professional wrestling will be allowed to thrive and grow stronger. Wrestling will have returned to its purist and will be free from the impurities that cheapen and devalue it today.

What once was true will be true again, but it can only succeed if it grows over the ruins of the lies.

I am the rebuilder. I am the seeds of life.

I am the savoir of professional wrestling and my legacy will be remembered forever. [/COLOR] ​

 

[Thriller Ant]

Brother Mason Westhoff couldn’t help but smile as he walks toward the backstage entrance of the Allstate Arena in Chicago. He is running a bit late, but still has arrived earlier than most of the roster.

Two weeks ago, Brother Westhoff sat on the brink of depression after failing to win the EurAsian Championship. Both Brother Westhoff and The Grand Mystique had planned on the title coming to The Sacrificial Altar, which caused this failure to hit Brother Westhoff particularly hard. However, Grand Mystique, as always, had a plan.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------​

After what seemed like an eternity, Brother Westhoff was directed to the room where Derek Jacobs was waiting. Derek had returned to wearing the old t-shirts and ratty jeans he wore before The New Church, but his happiness at seeing Brother Westhoff could not be hidden.

Brother Westhoff! It’s so good to see you.

Both men go for a handshake, but Derek pulls Brother Westhoff into a hug. The camera sees the discomfort on Brother Westhoff’s face, but it is gone by the time Derek releases him.

It’s good to see you too. I apologize for how long it has taken me to come visit.

I must admit that I was beginning to worry that you wouldn’t visit at all. Things changed as soon as…as he came around.

I assume you speak of The Grand Mystique.

Derek shudders at the sound of the name. He was so close to being rid of the haunting nightmares, but he still couldn’t bear to hear that name mentioned.

Yes, him.

He helped us by bringing us to heights we would have never achieved on our own. We sacrificed three men to help show people that the way of The Almighty is the only way to salvation. We could not have accomplished that without Grand Mystique.

Derek winces, but his tic is much more subtle this time.

But who is to say we couldn’t have become the WZCW Tag Team Champions if we had stayed on our original path?

We both know there is no definitive answer either way. The only certainty is that The Almighty’s plan was for us to join with The Grand Mystique.

Derek closes his eyes and shakes his head. Much of the happiness Derek had felt when he was told Brother Westhoff was visiting has been replaced with anger at what happened at the end of his time in WZCW.

He is the reason I’ve been in and out of this psychiatric clinic for the past couple of months and the reason I will probably never step into the ring again. If it wasn’t for him, you and Mikey wouldn’t have used my head for batting practice with those chairs, and I wouldn’t have suffered two major concussions in less than a month. That’s why I’m upset and can’t bring myself to say his name, Brother Westhoff. He may have cost me my career.

Both men sit quietly for a moment.

I’m sorry for what happened to you. That’s part of the reason it took me so long to come visit; my guilt was overwhelming. I promise you, once things get settled down a bit in WZCW, I’ll come and help you get back into the ring.

A big smile comes back across the face of Derek.

I would like that.

Good. I know you are here for a couple more weeks, but when you get out, we’ll get started on your wrestling rehab.

The two men shake hands once more and Brother Westhoff leaves Derek behind in the room. Both men are smiling, but Brother Westhoff’s seems like more of a sinister smile, while Derek’s is pure joy.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------​

Later in the afternoon, most of the roster had arrived at the arena. Brother Westhoff took no notice of them, however, as the meeting with DC and The Grand Mystique had gone just as well as he could’ve hoped. The only thing that stood between him and the Lethal Lottery now was taping his thoughts for WZCW.com. Luckily, he arrives at the backstage interview setup with no one else around. After adjusting his tie, Brother Westhoff steps in front of the camera and begins to speak.

You can look back as far as history goes to see that humans have always looked to a higher power for salvation, to free them from whatever holds them back. The Sacrificial Altar has had to deal with chains of our own, most notably Mikey Stormrage, since its inception. We need not rely on a higher power to free ourselves from bondage, because we are a higher power. Tonight, our bindings will be cut, and The Sacrificial Altar will be free to move forward, with one extra chair at the table.

With that extra chair comes another opportunity for The Sacrificial Altar to main event the biggest show of the year, Kingdom Come. Tonight, in the Lethal Lottery, our legs will be free of shackles, our hands will be unbound, and our vision will be clear. Everyone will witness the greatest sacrifice yet.

Brother Westhoff walks away with a smile on his face. It’s time for The Sacrificial Altar to move forward. Derek Jacobs and Mike Stormrage were the only two men left that could hold them back. Brother Westhoff took care of Derek. Tonight, The Grand Mystique would take care of Mikey Stormrage. Finally, The Sacrificial Altar was free to take its place atop WZCW.

 

[BK Styles]

Four big-screen televisions (two to the left and two to the right, in a large square, with a big gap in the middle) rest seemingly in mid air as the camera comes in to life. The screens are full of static, and the air is filled with the very same noise.

???: Success can be measured in many different ways.

A spotlight immediately snaps on, cutting the static sound and images. We can make out a shadow standing in a gap in between the screens. No more than a shadow, as the light is set slightly behind him, but the multi-coloured hair and the familiar voice gives the speakers identity away. The glistening of the Eurasian Championship on the gentleman’s shoulder also catches the eye.

Triple X: It can be measured by winning championsips.

Each screen flicks through various images of men winning championships. From Joseph Rios becoming the first WZCW Champion to Constantine winning the Elite X Championship. From X himself winning the Eurasian Championship to Vega winning the Mayhem Championship. And from The Bearded Gents winning the Tag Team Championships all the way to Showtime regaining his WZCW Championship in 2012.

X: It can be measured by beating the impossible.

The screens change and flick through huge moments and upsets throughout the company; prominent moments include Saboteur rolling Ty Burna up for the biggest upset in WZCW history, Krypto defying the odds to defeat Isabel Stone to win the mentorship programme, and X himself rolling up Steven Holmes to become Elite X Champion.

X: But there’s no bigger triumph than outlasting twenty nine other people in the biggest match of the year. The Lethal Lottery.

The screens flash through a bunch of quick eliminations over the years.

X: Those who have won the Lottery have carved their names into history as some of the greatest professional wrestlers in history. All of them are future Hall of Famers, and are inspirations for future generations of our great sport. The matches tend not to be without controversy…

The screens all flick to images of the first Lottery, as Big Will pulls himself back into the ring after seemingly being eliminated, knocking Steamboat Ricky off of the apron, with the referee’s raising his arms high into the air.

X: …while some take superhero-like efforts…

The top screen on the left remains frozen on Will, but the rest show Titus at Lethal Lottery 2, as he delivers a final spinning heel kick, knocking Carmen Bratchny out of the ring.

X: …whereas some foreshadow future success…

The top right screen now freezes on Titus, while the remaining two show a bloodied and battered Showtime Cougar at the third Lottery, hitting an enzugiri to Big Dave’s head as both men crash out of the ring. Showtime grabs the middle rope, and hangs on for dear life as Dave crumples to the floor.

X: …when some are pure acts of dominance.

The bottom left screen freezes on Showtime atop of the turnbuckle, whilst the bottom right bring us the great Ty Burna, hitting a devastating Consecrated Banishment to Big Dave, knocking him over the rope to the floor to win the fourth Lottery match. As Ty stands in the centre of the ring, the screen freezes.

X: But the act of winning this match alone isn’t enough. One more task follows. Some find the heart they need to succeed…

Top left comes back to life, as Big Will rolls up Joseph Rios for the three count at Kingdom Come, and holds the World title high into the air. Top right follows this, as Titus delivers a devastating Red Comet to Everest, getting the one-two-three at the second edition of the annual event.

X: …while others fall short.

Bottom left switches to Showtime, locked in Ty Burna’s Final Séance. He holds on for a few moments, but eventually submits at Kingdom Come Three. The final screen shows Ty Burna again, only this time locked in the Solitary Confinement by Steven Kurtesy at last years event. A referee checks the Harbinger of Chaos, and calls for the bell after receiving no response.

This image freezes, just like the three before it, as the lights fade up ever so slightly. The screens suddenly snap to darkness, leaving Triple X, in full ring attire with his Eurasian Title on his shoulder, as the focus.

X: So, where the hell do I figure into all of this?

The screens all show highlights of X's best moments inside the ring since his debut, before focusing on a clip of X using two WZCW superstars as stepping stones to get from the announce table to the ring, keeping himself in last year’s Lottery match.

X: Fourteen months ago, in my first ever Lethal Lottery match, I announced my arrival. In truth, I went in, with this being only my fourth ever match here, with little to no expectation. I came out of it a star. From that one spectacular moment, I earned an Elite X Championship match no-one thought I could win and, well, we all know how that ended. (a clip of X holding the Elite X Championship is shown) But this time, everything is different. I’ve proven myself to be WZCW’s resident Showstealer (a montage of X performing the Firefly, and delivering the X-Rated to various superstars), one of the most exciting competitors in WZCW history, and one of the best competitors in the world today. To the point…(X grasps the title belt and holds it up high, as a montage of his Championship-winning match plays in the background)…where I hold this; the prestigious Eurasian Championship.

The screens flicker into static, and two show Showtime Cougar, and the other two show Ty Burna.

X: The same championship these two great former Lottery winners have held in their careers. Which leads me to now; to this moment. To walking out in Chicago Illinois to beat twenty nine other men and women, all with the aim to become number one contender to the World Title. Sounds easy, right? Not so. Thirty of the planet's greatest superstars, be they men or women, all in one match. (the screens flick through highlights of many of the individuals involved; from cornerstones like Rush and Celeste to newer faces like the Carnival of Carnage, Thrash and Grizzly Bob, to those in the middle of the pack like Ricky Runn, Sandy Deserts, Krypto, to who many consider to be favorites in Constantine and Sam Smith) Every man, woman, child, alien involved is looking for their golden ticket to glory. And be it the great Showtime Cougar…

The screens flicker, showing Showtime raise my hand at the turn of the year.

X: …or my old friend, the dastardly Steven Holmes...

The screens change again, showing Holmes drive me down with a sick Piledriver.

X: ...that walks out of Chicago with the World title, I plan on winning that golden ticket and standing across from them in that ring at Kingdom Come Five.

X reaches behind him and pulls a black cloth, revealing a fifth television screen in the centre of the others. Immediately, the top right displays the Lethal Lottery 1 logo, the top right displays the logo for the second Lottery, the bottom left displays the third Lottery logo, the bottom right displays the fourth, and the centre one displays this years offering.

X: Last year, I went into the Lottery a rookie, with no expectations. I shocked everyone, and became an overnight success story. This year...I have myself some very high hopes, and I don't plan on being disappointed.

A dark red ‘X’ appears on both the top left and right screens with static in the background, as the two below fall to black.

X: Two out of the four winners have gone on to claim true success at Kingdom Come. I plan on making it three.

X slowly walks out of the spotlight, and towards the camera, blocking the centre screen. Though he is now mostly in darkness, his face has just enough light to show the confidence, almost cockiness, engraved in its features. X smiles as he stares into the lens.

X: Welcome…to my reality.

X moves out of view, and the camera settles back on the monitors. The two X’s on the top monitors remain, and have been joined by a third ‘X’ in the middle screen as the camera slowly fades to black, focused in on the trio of red X’s.

 

[GI Cake]

We enter into a Airport in Miami Florida, where we see an exuberant Ricky Runn eagerly making his way through the check-in, and security. Going through the X-Ray machine, just as Ricky thought he was in the clear. He was jumped and restrained by Airport Security. Ricky struggles under the dog pile and shouts.

Ricky:"Yo man, what the fudge is going on!? I didn't kill anyone I swear! I'm not Vega!"

Guard:"Sir, we were given a hint that a stupid looking guy with long hair would be trying to sneak in explosive compounds onto a airplane to Chicago, are you I.C.Weiner?"

Ricky looked over on the ground and shook his head. Ricky:"Pft, what, no that's absurd, I'm Ricky-- er Richard Jackson Jr... I'm a wrestler, I got a big Pay-per-view, that I need to head to. Look just check my bag and everything will clear up, I swear."

With a suspicious look, one of the guard nods and begins to search through Ricky's carry on luggage, when he finds a bottle containing the golden facepaint Ricky applies before heading into the ring, the guard gasps and props Ricky up and says with a burly voice.

Guard:"Okay you're gonna have to come with us, and we are going to need to do a cavity search."

If there ever was an audible sound that could describe the tight clenching of Ricky's buttcheeks made it would sound a little like this.

Ricky:"Oh hamburgers."

 

[red ass skull muhfukkah]

The door swings open and Alhazred comes stumbling through. He stares at the messy living room and front of him and slams the door behind him; some pictures fall off the wall.

Alhazred: I’m gonna kill him.

He throws a black back pack onto an old red recliner and sits on the dusty brown couch next to it. The entire room is littered with trash, blueprints, books, and various wires. Alhazred is visibly hurt from Krypto’s attack on Aftershock, he’s clutching his ribs over his Wilhelm Wunderbar for Fuhrer T-Shirt. He lays his head back and closes his eyes. He twitches a little, then settles, twitches again, then settles, twitches a third time and sits up with eyes wide open.

Alhazred: I’m gonna kill him. I have to calm down right now though, I have a big opportunity coming up at the Lethal Lottery, I could win the whole thing, I could main event Kingdom Come, I could become World Champion. Or I could bash Krypto’s skull in with a barbed-wire baseball bat. Yeah that sounds nice, sounds so much sweeter than wearing that stupid gold belt. But if I win then maybe Missy will see how great I’ve become and maybe she’ll come back, and it would finally prove to the world that my almighty Power Glove is truly the greatest invention in the history of mankind. But then again, revenge tastes so delicious when delivered right. How dare he cost me that match! How dare he put me through that table! How dare he embarrass me! I’m gonna kill him!

He stands up and whips his remote at the T.V., breaking it.

Alhazred: FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATS! Get up here, I need a new remote! FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATS!

He stays standing and listens for movement. He goes to open his mouth but remembers where Fats is and sit back on the couch looking down.

Alhazred: That’s right, he’s dead. Dead and gone like all the rest, I thought he was different, I thought he would stand by my side no matter what. No, he was too weak, I had to drag that fat tub of lard everywhere with me, making sure he’s okay and always having to make up for him. He slowed me down, just like the rest of them. I don’t need them, I don’t need anyone. I never have, as long as I have my Power Glove, I’ll be fine.

He looks around his house and looks down at his glove, he pushes a random button, then looks around again.

Alhazred: Sure would be nice to talk to someone though, get this Krypto anger out of me so I can focus on the Lottery. I know I’ll go talk to Facecrush!

Alhazred gets up and walks over to the basement door, he hits three points in the wall and a keypad pops out. He types in his password and the floor below him lowers him down, like an elevator. He rides the elevator down several floors. Each floor he passes has various rooms filled with test tubes and mechanical and electrical equipment. One floor has only computers; another is filled with hundreds of cats. He passes the Isabel Stone shrine floor and finally stops at a floor with a giant, test tube with Facecrush in it. He walks over to Facecrush and taps on the glass.

Alhazred: Hey, Facecrush! Hey, wake up!

He knocks on the glass louder but Facecrush is in a deep, deep sleep.

Alhazred: Shoot, now what.

He looks on the floor and sees a jar of pickles. He picks it up, inspects it closely, then shrugs and opens it. He heads back on the elevator and back up to the main floor while eating the pickles. He gets to the main floor and sits back on his couch. He takes out the last pickle and goes to eat it...

???: WAIT! DON'T EAT ME!

He looks at the pickle.

Alhazred: Wut.

Suddenly a face forms on the pickle, it has big, bubbly eyes and a grin that stretches across it's face.

Pickle: Don't eat me friend!

It says in a high pitched, Micky Mouse sounding voice.

Pickle: I can help you!

Alhazred: Wut.

Pickle: That's right, this wasn't any ordinary jar of pickles you've been eating. Don't you remember creating us a couple months ago?

Alhazred: I have a slight drinking problem.

Pickle: Well, thank cucumber you do because I wouldn't exist if you didn't I guess.

Alhazred: Could all those other pickles I ate talk too?

Pickle: Of course they could, those were my brothers and sisters!

Alhazred: Oh...sorry.

Pickle: That's all right, they were weak little bitches anyway. Much like most of the company you've kept since coming to WZCW at Lethal Lottery III.

Alhazred: How do you know my history?

Pickle: Well friend, you created us then forgot about us. We were trapped down there for so long, I would wander around and use the internet once in a while.

Alhazred: If you guys could run, how come you didn't run when I started eating you?

Pickle: Oh my brothers and sisters did, but I pushed them in the way so you wouldn't eat me.

Alhazred: Oh.

Pickle: Yep.

Alhazred: So... you said you would help me with something?

Pickle: That's right! Not only did I study everything about you and I mean everything.

He looks up and down Alhazred's body and smirks.

Pickle: I also studied everyone else on the roster long and hard, until I was green! I've also spent a lot of time watching their matches, your matches, and any wrestling matches I could find. Not only do I know everything about every member of the roster, I am now a brilliant ring strategist.

Alhazred: Great, so how should I win the Lottery?

Pickle: You don't.

Alhazred: Huh?

Pickle: You're only focus should be destroying that low life, alien scum; Krypto! After what all the stalking he's done, making your life miserable, and putting you through that announce table, he deserves to die! Forget about the Lottery and just focus on his head and it being covered in blood!

Alhazred: How should I bloody it? With a chair? A pipe? Oh, maybe with the ring steps?

Pickle: No! You do it with your hands Alhazred! Revenge is the greatest feeling anything could feel, add in hatred and rage and you have an orgy of the best feelings ever! When you have sex, it feels better with the condom off right?

Alhazred: Um..sure. I've had sex before!

Pickle: Of course you have, a fine young man like yourself probably gets all the gals! But, why would you put a condom on aka use a weapon when you could go raw and break his bones with your bare hands! The sensation you feel when his eyes are popping out, his nose is shattered, his jaw is broken, his skull is fractured in countless places and his brains seem to be flowing out of his forehead, will be greater than any orgasm imaginable! And it'll be because you didn't use a condom!

Alhazred: Um...OK.

Pickle: Now head to the gym and train those muscles like you've never train before! You want your fists to be like hammers when they come down on that little alien's body! YOU MUST BREAK HIM ALHAZRED! You must stop him at the Lottery, you must obliterate him there. If you don't he won't stop his quest no matter what, he'll keep coming and coming. The longer it goes on the more damage he'll do to you and the harder he'll be to stop. End him now, or you'll find yourself in quite... a pickle!

Alhazred: YES! HIS BLOOD WILL COVER MY FISTS AND FACE!

Alhazred puts the pickle in his back pocket and runs out the door as the scene fades to black.

 

[Kermit]

In a dark hotel room there are hues of blue breaking through the window panes, and there is a man on his knees. He feverishly grasps a handful of beige carpet with his left hand as his panting fills the room with discomfort.

*drip drip drip*

Sweat falls from the brow of the hunched-over man. With one hand he holds the carpet, but what is he holding in the other? Black cold steel. A .25 caliber pistol is pressed against the temple of the man’s head. The camera finally pulls back the curtain and reveals to us a face. There he is, in all his glory, the WZCW Savior, Chris K.O. With a coat of sweat on his face, white t-shirt, and dark faded jeans, Chris K.O. is on his hand and knees with a gun pressed against his head. His new tooth is nearly settled in; just in time for him to grit and grind his pearly whites as he contemplates pulling the trigger.

I know what you are thinking, “How did I get here?” It seems almost incomprehensible that my cocky and confident self that you saw on Ascension 63 would downward spiral to such a low point at which I am now. What you saw on Ascension was denial. What was I denying? Well, we have go back before Ascension 63 to find that out.

You may remember this...

Chris isn't quite sure why, who he assumes is his dentist, is asking for the required action, but he does it anyway. Chris hears a drawer opening behind him, but he remains seated in a comfortable position. The person proceeds to walk up and dabs a cotton ball with alcohol on the forearm of Chris.

Chris: What exactly is this for?

The person proceeds to stick the needle inside of Chris's arm and injects the content.

???: For The Light.

Chris grows a cold sweat and looks up at the person injecting the shot. It is the man in the white and black mask! Chris tries to speak, but he suddenly becomes very tired. The camera shot is now from Chris' first-person point-of-view. We slowly see his eye-lids close and then the screen goes black.

Well, after that came this...

---------------------​

A deep breath of air is taken in as Chris K.O. wakes up on a small dark-green coach. He frantically looks around the small room before looking down at his forearm. He spots a cotton ball that is taped over where the shot was administered. He quickly tears the cotton off his arm and throws to the ground. He jumps up to his feet. The room his small and dusty. The walls are terra-cotta orange and the floor is made of the same material. There is a lone metal door with a small tinted glass window on it. Chris runs to it and begins banging on it.

Chris: Hey! What the hell is going on! Hey!

Chris continues to bang his fists on the door.

Chris: I don’t know who you are, but I’ll sue your ass!

A clicking sound can be heard from outside the door, which prompts Chris to back away. The door swings open. The man with the red scar on his face, known as Ethan, steps into the room. Chris is perplexed at first, but he finds something familiar about the scar upon his cheek.

Ethan: Please, don’t be frightened Chris.

Chris: Who are you? Where the hell am I?

Ethan: You’re in The Light.

Ethan smiles as Chris’ eyes get big. Suddenly, someone steps into the room from behind Ethan.

Ethan: I’m sure you already know my associate here-

Ethan gestures towards the man next to him. Chris recognizes him as the man in the black and white mask.

Regula: Greetings Mr. K.O. I hope that there are no hard feelings after our encounter in the dentistry.

Chris doesn’t know what to say as he takes everything in. Suddenly, he remembers who he is. He is the Savior of WZCW. He answers to no one! He sternly approaches the two men.

Chris: I’m not someone you two can just drug and drag into an unknown location. I have millions of dollars at my disposal, so I’ll make this quick and short. Where the hell am I? Why am I here? And where is the nearest exit?

Ethan smiles as he clasps his hands together.

Ethan: That is what I love about you Chris. Bold, strong, and confident. Great qualities of a leader. Even better qualities of a savior.

Chris: You keep talking to me as if you know me, but iIve never met either of you in my entire life.

Chris looks over at Regula.

Chris: Other than our "brief" encounters...

Ethan: Alright then, you do not want to engage in small talk. You are a man of business. I can respect that. Follow me.

Ethan turns and walks out of the room. Chris looks over at Regula, but then proceeds to follow behind Ethan. Regula follows them out and closes the door behind him. They begin walking down a hallway that is illuminated by candle light on the walls. The walls themselves are the same color of the room Chris was previously in. Regula moves himself into a position next to Chris, as the two of them walk behind Ethan.

Regula: Do you remember Chris, what I told you when we first exchanged words?

Chris: Excuse me!

Chris quickly approaches him.

Chris: That coin you just picked up. It’s mine.

???: Oh? Are you sure that you are not looking for this?

The man pulls a small business-sized card out of his raincoat. He hands it to Chris, who looks down at it as the rain continues to fall. It reads, “The Light”, at the top of the card. At the bottom it reads: “Need a savior?” This makes Chris crack a small smirk.

Chris: I think you are confused. I don’t need a savior. I want my coin.

???: I think you are confused Chris.

Chris looks up at the man and for the first time he notices that the man in the brown raincoat and hat in front of him is also wearing a black and white mask. Chris looks confused.

???: You are not the one who needs a savior. We are.

Chris looks back down at the card. He tries to make sense of the moment.

Chris: I’m sorry. Do I know yo-

Chris looks back up, but the man is gone.

Chris: Yes.

Regula: I wasn’t deceiving you then, and we are not deceiving you now. You are divinely special. This world is dying, we are dying. To put it simply, we need a savior.

Chris soaks in the words, but Ethan suddenly comes to a halt. Chris shoots a glance at the door to his left. He can hear muffling beyond the doorway and wall. It almost sounds like someone is speaking in a microphone behind it.

Ethan turns around to face Chris and Regula.

Ethan: Chris, I know all of this seems like a lot to take in. And I know it seems like you are not in control, but you are. Now, I can take you to the exit, and you can leave. You can walk away from all of this and never know what you are truly missing. Or-

Ethan gestures to the door that is separating the three men and the muffled noise.

Ethan: I can show you a different door. I can show you your destiny. I can take you into a room where people are hungry for your presence. They are thirsty for your knowledge. It is a place where the holy is praised and the dead is revived.

The last half of Ethan’s sentence makes Chris feel uneasy.

Ethan: You have a choice Chris. You always have a choice.

For a few seconds the moment stops. Chris is suspended in time as he examines the man in a black and white mask next to him. Then, he focuses on the man with a red scar. Something is off, he knows it. However, his curiosity is flaring. He wants to know what is beyond the door to his left and he want’s know what The Light actually is. Chris stares at the door next to him. He blinks his eyes once, twice, three times. Then, he extends out his hand and sternly turns the handle. He pushes the door open with force and barges through the threshold.

The room is blinding as bright lights fill it up. It takes a moment for his eyes to readjust, but he is astounded once they do. He is on a stage and is standing in front of dozens and dozens of women.

???: YOUR SAVIOR, CHRIS K.O.!

The congregation breaks out into songs and praises of jubilation. Chris has no idea what is going on. He glances over at the man who announced his name. We recognize the man as Reverend Eckhart. Chris then begins to pan across the room until someone catches his gaze on the front row.

Chris: What?

Suddenly, Chris begins to get weary. He stumbles backwards.

Eckhart: Look at how he is overcome with emotion!

The congregation continues to cheer. However, the one that Chris spotted on the front row is concerned. It is Juliet! She approaches the stage, but she is halted by Eckhart as she watches Regula step onto the stage and grab Chris by the arm to help him back through the door. Eckhart smiles and looks down at Juliet.

Eckhart: Don’t worry sister! He is here now! That is all that matters.

Juliet gives Eckhart a fake smile, and the scene transitions. The camera angle switches to what Chris is seeing. His vision is fuzzy and he is being halfway carried down the hall by Regula. Ethan stalks behind them.

Ethan: You fool. You gave him too much.

Regula: It just metabolized faster than I thought. Nevermind that, what they saw cannot be unseen.

Ethan grabs Regula by the arm. Chris hazily watches the intense staredown.

Ethan: There can be no mistakes Regula. You and I both know that.

Regula shrugs off Ethan’s hand and continues to take Chris down the hall. They finally approach a door that Regula opens up and pulls Chris into. Ethan follows behind and closes the door. Chris feels himself being forced into a chair of some sort. He looks up and Ethan comes into his view.

Ethan: Listen Chris.

Chris tries to focus on Ethan, but he is fading fast.

Ethan: When you wake back up you will be in your normal bed. We will bring you back here when the timing is right. I’m going to send Eckhart out to you for the time being. If you need to send me a message, give it to him; he will deliver it. If you need to send the world a message, tell him, and he will tell them for you. Understood?

Chris weakly nods.

Ethan: Oh, and Chris-

Chris looks up as Ethan smiles down at him. Chris’ eyes slowly begin to close, but he hears Ethan’s final words.

Ethan: Just in case you were wondering, that was your mother.

-----------​

The scene transitions and it is after Ascension 63. We see Chris walking down a hallway in the backstage as he approaches the locker room. He enters into it, but is immediately startled by the curly-headed man known as Eckhart.

Eckhart: You don’t answer my calls, you don’t return my messages, how in the world am I suppose to-

Chris quickly grabs the collar of Eckhart’s brown suit and thrust him up against the locker room wall. Chris’ face is covered in sweat and his nostrils are flaring.

Chris: I told you Eckhart, leave me alone!

Eckhart: Is this because they made you #1 in the lottery? Come on now, you can still beat the od-

Chris throws Eckhart down onto the floor.

Chris: Who the hell do you think you are? You act like you know me. You act like you have an opinion on anything in my life. I swear, if I see you again I’ll kill you. Stay away from me.

Chris sternly walks over to a locker and grabs a gym bag. He takes it and exits the room. Eckhart jumps up to his feet and runs to the doorway as he yells at Chris, who is walking away quickly.

Eckhart: Sooner or later you will realize Chris, it was really her! Your mom is alive!

We see Chris slam his fist against the wall in the hallway as he exits through a set of double doors. The scene cuts out.

-------------​

Back to the room we are with Chris holding the gun to his head. The bright beige carpet is shaded by the drops of sweat from Chris’ face.

My name is Samuel J. Masters. I was the son of a oil field rat who didn't obtain much beyond a high school diploma. But here I am. The self-proclaimed savior of the WZCW. I was tortured by Ty Burna and ultimately hung on his cross. I bore what no other man could bear in the WZCW. I am a hero, saint, and a savior. No one comes into the Kingdom of WZCW, except through me. I am the truth, the way, and the light. Yet, here I am. So great and powerful, but on my knees like a dog with a gun pointed towards my brain.

By being so close to death, I reminded of my father. Because of Ty Burna, the only man I will never save, I lost him just before Lethal Lottery IV. I was forced to go into the match against 29 other men. I was emotional wreck back then; funny how some things never change...

By being so far away from death, I reminded of my mother. Because of a freak accident, I thought she was taken away from me as a child. No matter how much I fight it and deny it, I know. I know the woman I saw inside of that room was my mother. But how?

Chris gulps and gasps for a breath as his trigger hand begins to shake.

The opposition of faith has placed me in unforeseen circumstances. I shall be the definitive 1 in the Lethal Lottery. All the while, it is not the 29 other men that I know I could be facing inside of the ring that scares me. It is the ones that I cannot see. It is the variables that I cannot control. As much as I detest him, I must admit, in my weakest moment, that I fear most the one known as Ty Burna. I fear what he can take from me upon his return. If the cloud of being the first of thirty men isn’t enough to overshadow my confidence then the looming danger of pure chaos is. The scariest part is that I know he would gladly take this gun from my hand right now and pull the trigger for me if he were here. Damn it!

Chris grits his teeth as he lowers his face into the carpet with the gun still pressed against his head. He screams out.

Chris: I didn’t ask for this! Who gave you the right to f*ck up my life!

*BANG BANG BANG*

The sound is coming from outside the hotel room’s door.

Eckhart: Chris! Chris, it’s me Eckhart! I know you are in there.

Chris doesn’t get up from his kneeling position.

Eckhart: Chris!

Suddenly, Eckhart burst through the door. He spots Chris on the ground and rushes to him. Chris backs away and puts himself in a corner.

Chris: Stay back Eckhart!

Eckhart: Come on Chris, you don't wanna do this.

Chris: Some savior huh? Holding a gun to his head in a hotel room. Where are my waving fig leaves now?

Eckhart puts his hands up to calm Chris.

Eckhart: Chris, it is okay... As crazy as this sounds, this is normal.

Chris almost laughs at Eckhart’s absurd statement.

Chris: Normal? Do you even hear yourself man?

Eckhart: Jesus Christ once said, "Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done." I know everything seems a little overwhelming right now. I know that you are a little confused, but I strongly believe, along with many others, that you are here with a divine purpose. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe that. Now, come on. Give me the gun and let’s get you on a plane to Chicago. I know that you are the first in the lottery, I know that you are confused about your mother, but you have supernatural favor my son. Just hand me the gun!

Eckhart grows a weak yellow smile as he reaches out a hand for the gun. Chris looks at him, and then at the gun still pointed at his head. He closes his eyes and mutters,

Chris: No.

*CLICK*

There is a silence in the room. Both Chris and Eckhart are streaming with sweat. Chris finally pulls the gun away from his head as he gawks over what just happened. Eckhart timidly approaches Chris and snags the gun from his hand slowly. He removes the clip and drops the unloaded gun on the ground. He places the clip in his suit pocket and watches Chris slump down in the corner. Eckhart pulls a napkin out of his suit coat and wipes his brow.

Eckhart: I told you Chris. You still have more work to do.

With that, Eckhart walks away from Chris and walks out of the hotel room. He closes the door behind him. Chris just remains in the corner as he stares at the unloaded gun with sweat and tears streaming down his face.

We cut to Eckhart, who is out in the hallway. He pulls the clip out of his suit pocket and examines it. It is nearly loaded, but is missing one bullet. Eckhart lets out a sigh of relief as he wipes more sweat off of his brow and walks away.

I took the gun into a shop the next day. The bullet was stuck in the chamber...


The cup was not taken from me...


I still have work to do.


The scene goes black.

 

[Infinity]

-Open-


--------------------------------
New York City
The Lower East Side
1982
--------------------------------


The sound of thunder cracking through the night amidst the constant pattering of a heavy downpour welcomes us to this rainy scene. A young child sits by his window as he watches the rain drops seemingly fly down from the sky and crash against the glass, splattering upon impact. He's so high up in this apartment building that he streets below seem insignificant. Suddenly, a noise mother nature is not responsible for breaks the almost soothing sounds of the storm; an argument can be heard from the other room. The boy turns his attention away from the window, and towards his bedroom door. It is closed shut, but two distinct voices are clearly audible.


You're not going out in this weather, Elizabeth!

Why not!?

What do you mean "Why not!?" Look at it outside! It's rainin' cats and freakin' dogs!

Since when did a little rain hurt anybody? You always were such a bore! Just live a little sometimes. Enjoy life, won't you!? I'm going out for a drive!

A- a drive!? What are you... crazy!?

Oh! Now I'm crazy again! Every time I do something you don't agree with... I'm craaaaazy, right!?

You know what? You are crazy. You're delusional, you know that?

I must be. I had to be delusional to marry such a buzz kill like you! I'm not going to let my son grow up to be like you. He's going to enjoy life, dammit! He's going to appreciate the beauty in everything around us, unlike you! That's why I regret naming him after you. You wanted to have another little you on this earth, didn't you? The last thing this world needs is another boring little two bit thief like you... William. That's why I'm taking him with me right now.

What!? No, no you're not! Come back here-


Just then the child's mother, identified as Elizabeth, barges into the room wearing a yellow rain coat and a pair of matching rain boots. Her long blonde hair flows from beneath her hood, she looks almost like a child herself as she walks over to her son and hands him his own rain coat. It's black, a stark contrast from his mother's coat. His father, William, follows directly behind her with an angry scowl on his face.


Come on, Will. Let's go play in the rain! Would you like that? That sounds like fun, right?


As she speaks to her son, Will, in a calm and delightful tone, she is assisting him in putting his raincoat on. Just then, her husband forcefully grabs her and shoves her aside. Equally as forcefully, he begins tugging and yanking at the coat trying to take it off of him.


No, you're not going outside Will! You're staying inside, you hear me!?

Stop it, you're hurting him!

No I'm not! He's not a baby, dammit! You always baby him, he's 6 years old! He's tough! Look!


The father somewhat stiffly jabs his son in the chest. The child winces in pain for a brief moment before quickly erasing the look off his face, all while never making a sound.


That didn't hurt, right!?


Before he can even reply, his mother Elizabeth interjects.


What's wrong with you! Don't hit my son!


She flails her fists frantically at her husband as she tries to come to the defense of her son. He let's her punch him on the back and shoulder a couple of times without moving an inch.


Yeah, come on! Hit me some more, dammit!


The father looks down at his son with a sinister smile on his face as he continues to absorb all of his wife's ineffective punches.


You see this! No pain, son! Feel no pain!


Just then, one of those fists comes across the side of his face. He finally reacts. As if on instinct, he strikes his wife across the face with the back of his hand. Equally as instinctively as his father, the child fires his right foot straight into the air like a football player kicking a field goal, and hits his father square in the testicles. The father falls to a knee in pain, and look into his son's eyes. Without hesitation, he slaps the child violently across the face. Young Will's head whiplashes as his small body falls down to the ground.

His mother screams in horror as she goes to the aid of her son. He holds his face, but doesn't show any signs of pain on his face once again. She helps him up to his feet and grabs his rain coat once again. Little Will is almost emotionless.


Both of you are crazy, y'all know that!?


She frantically puts the coat on her son as he simply stares into his father's eyes... who is still down on one knee, in pain.


Come on, Will... we're going to go play now, okay sweetie?

Play!? Yeah, go ahead and play. Both of you two psychos deserve each other, dammit.

I'm not crazy, God dammit!

Get out!

Fine!

Both of you, get out!

We are!


She grabs little Will and together they turn towards the door. They exit the bedroom and continue on. Their husband and father remains on his knees as he hears the sound of the front door open, and then slam shut. He's left alone, with nothing else to listen to except the sounds of the raging storm outside.


--------------------------------
New York City
Vega's Penthouse
Present Day
--------------------------------


We find ourselves in the familiar setting of Vega's luxurious living room where Alexis is attentively listening to him recall profound moments from his childhood. They're enjoying the Macallan 64; the world's most expensive bottle of scotch. We learned last time that Vega stole the Macallan after it was sold for $460,000 at a Sotheby's auction, simply because he was thirsty. Alexis licks her lips after a sip of the superior scotch before excitedly speaking up.


Wait! Oh my God! Did you just try to casually slip in your name?


Vega simply smiles.


Did I hear that correctly!? You were named after your father?


Vega continues to enjoy his glass of scotch on the rocks, without interjecting. This leads Alexis to believe her line of questioning is accurate.


So you're telling me... that you're name is... William?


After he's done enjoying some more of his scotch, Vega holds the glass up into the air and sarcastically toasts Alexis.


Nothing gets by you, kiddo.

I can't believe it. After 19 years, I finally get a first name. I'm in shock. I can't believe it. I honestly never thought you would ever tell me your real name... William.

My mother used to just call me 'Will.'

Interesting. Now that I've got that out of the way, there's still something I don't understand. What was it with your mom's obsession with going out and playing in the rain?

My mother was... different.

What do you mean?

I learned that she was bi-polar. I remember she could spend weeks, sometimes entire months locked inside her room, tucked away underneath her blankets, never getting out of bed. It would be as if my mother was locking herself in her own homemade mental institution. Then there would be stretches where she'd feel the world was bursting with all the colors of the rainbow no matter what, and she'd want everyone around her to experience it with her. I was a kid. I just went along for the ride my entire childhood.


He shakes his head as the memories begin racing through his mind.


I'll never forget what happened later that night...


--------------------------------
New York City
The Lower East Side
1982
--------------------------------


We're taken back to that rainy night as the storm continues to rage on downtown. The dark and desolate streets are poorly lit by the street lights, but in a quick flash, lightning briefly illuminates the entire city. As quickly as the light came, the light is taken away as the flash of lightning is soon followed by the loud crackling sound of thunder. After the rumblings reverberations have calmed down, the sound of the serene rain takes over... but only for a few moments as it is once again interrupted, this time by a speeding vehicle swerving down the wet and empty street.

The camera cuts to a shot from inside the car, where we find the young Will sitting in the passengers seat of the car holding on for dear life. His mother, Elizabeth, is driving the car with both windows open and a smile on her face. Both of their faces are soaking wet, as the rain is flying into the car through the wide open windows. Will's mom is laughing as she runs through the red lights which are clearly shining through the rain.


Be careful, Mom!

Oh come on now, don't be like your father... live a little!

Mom, please!

Relax... feel the rain splash on your face, Will. It feels amazing, doesn't it!?

No, it doesn't. Please, just-

Try to catch the raindrops in your mouth! Like this!


She closes her eyes and opens her mouth as she continues to speed down the desolate street. Nobody dares to drive in this rain, at this time at night. Nobody except her.


Mom! Open your eyes, please! Just keep your eyes on the-


Just then, the sounds of tires screeching fill the scene. The car begins to swerve, hydroplaning down the street as it begins to spin around, out of control, until they crash violently into a metal street lamp. The passenger's side of the car slams into the metal pole, crunching the door and folding the car slightly.

Inside the car, there is broken glass and water everywhere. Both airbags have gone off, and both Elizabeth and Will are still in their seats with their seat belts fastened. Will is unconscious in the passenger seat. The car door is folded in, pressed up against the right side of his body. His right arm seems to be forced into an awkward position, and blood is trickling down from the right side of his head. Elizabeth is sitting there. Shards of broken glass are stuck in her hair, but there is no blood shed on her part. Her eyes begin to flicker. She is able to open them, and looks out towards the rain falling down on the street. Inexplicably, she begins to laugh.


Wow, that was amazing!


She unbuckles her seat belt, and tries to open the door. It's a little difficult, but she's able to pry it open. Elizabeth shoves the deflated airbag away from her as she struggles to exit the devastated vehicle.


Oh my, look at this, honey!


She runs out into the empty street, spreads her arms out to the side, and looks straight up into the air with her mouth wide open. The car, on the other hand, is still wrapped around a pole with smoke now beginning to exit through the cracks in the hood. A hubcap is seen just a couple of feet from her, tossed off the wheel and off to the side during the accident.


Come on, Will! Come and catch raindrops with mommy!


Back inside the car, Will is just now beginning to open his eyes. He grimaces in pain as he uses his left arm to try and pull his right arm free. He can't. Will shoves the deflated airbag to the side with his left hand, and with the same hand, unbuckles his seat belt. Again, he tries to move his right arm, but he winces in pain once again when he tries. He looks through the broken windshield and through the smoke rising from the hood of the car and see's his mother, playing in the rain, trying to catch rain drops with her tongue. He calls out to her in agony...


Mom! Help me! I can't get out!


She doesn't look towards the wreck, or her son. Instead, she continues to look up towards the sky.


It's so beautiful, Will. You're missing out, sweetie!


Will continues to look on, desperately trying to get her attention.


Mom! Please! Help!


The rain drops, sweetie! They're flying! Don't you wanna fly with me!?


Will looks on in despair, with tears in his eyes, as his mother ignores his cries and jumps into a puddle. She's smiles and ignores the mangled car as she continues playing in the rain. The sound of her joyous laughter drowns out her son's hopeless cries for help, as the rain continues to pour down.


--------------------------------
New York City
Vega's Penthouse
Present Day
--------------------------------


I remember that moment. I've had a life full of of moments, but that moment lives in the most vivid parts of my mind, Alexis. I swear to you, that moment was the first death in a life full of little deaths I've felt throughout my life. Have you any idea what it means to see your mother blatantly not giving a damn about your own well being... all the while, knowing in the deepest part of your heart that it isn't her fault?

My heart, it was being pulled in different directions so violently that it felt like it was ripping apart, fiber by fiber. It was full of anger and hatred for her, but it was an anger I kept inside. It tried, God knows, the anger tried to bleed out little by little, and perhaps that night it finally did... but it was as if I had to condemn the rage building up inside of me... because, I knew she wasn't well. She needed help.

Wasn't she on medication?

She was. When she met my father she was medicated. It wasn't until after I was born that she decided to stop. My father used to be real good at making sure she took her medication, I remember that. At least, he used to be. I don't know what happened, or why things changed... perhaps my young and naive mind simply couldn't comprehend the complexities of human love and emotion back then... but my father stopped taking care of her. He stopped caring whether or not she took her medication. It got to a point where it seemed like he encouraged it, so that he'd have an excuse to unload his anger and abuse onto her. He created a scapegoat... for all of his failures.

Your father... he was abusive to her?

Not at first. I remember growing up in a normal home for a while. My father was always some kind of small time thief, but I didn't know any better back then. It wasn't until he stopped medicating her that he became abusive. I never saw him hit her, not until that time I just told you about... but I heard it. Our walls were thin. I heard it... a lot.


Vega takes a sip of his scotch. After a brief moment, he takes another sip, almost as if he is relying on the alcohol to get through this part of the conversation.


What happened after that car accident?

She didn't get any better. She never did. Soon after that night, my father left. Technically, my mom was raising me, but I raised myself for the next year. I went to school on my own, came home on my own, cleaned the house, bought groceries, paid the rent, paid the bills-

Wait- how did you pay for all of that?

It was at that point in my life that I started using the few tricks my father had already taught me and put them to use. I was pick pocketing people every single day, multiple people every day. I'd come home with a dozen wallets a day. Some of them would have a couple of dollars, some would have a couple of hundred. I was doing quite well for a 7 year old kid. I didn't really care if I didn't see my father ever again. My mom was still a "free spirit"... according to her. I should have seen the writings on the wall.

What do you mean?

One night, I woke up to the sound of our front door slamming shut. I got up and walked over to my mom's room. It was empty. I remember looking out the window in her room, and that's when I realized it was raining. My mother always had an obsession with the rain... but she was going through one of her stages where she wouldn't want to leave the building at all. I remember she hadn't left the building in over 3 weeks at that point... so I figured she went up to the roof. She could enjoy the rain, and still technically not leave the building.

So, I went up to the roof.


--------------------------------
New York City
The Lower East Side
1983
--------------------------------


Will comes bursting through the rooftop door and stands there in a t-shirt and pajama bottoms. His bare feet stand in a cold puddle of water as rain pours down on the entire scene. Through the falling drops of rain, he can see his mother standing there in her nightgown, with her arms stretched out to her sides and face tilted up towards the night sky. She too is barefoot as she stands on the tips of her toes and twirls around in circles like a balanced ballerina with her mouth wide open.


Mom, come inside... it's freezing outside, you're gonna get sick.

Sick!? Oh come on, live a little! Come and play with me, sweetie! Try to catch a rain drop with your tongue, like this!


She continues to spin around without a care in the world while trying to catch as many random rain drops in her mouth.


I have school in the morning, mom. I just wanna go back to sleep. You know, nice warm bed? Inside? Come on, mom... let's go.


Will is keeping a rather calm demeanor, as if he's seen all this before. His mom, on the other hand, barely pays any attention to his son's stern requests.


Look at the rain drops, son. Look at how they fly!

They're not flying, mom... they're falling.

Look how they come flying down from the sky!

That's not what flying means, mom.

Oh, could you imagine the things a rain drop see's, Will!?


Young Will furrows his eye brows in confusion.


Uh, what?


His mother continues in her upbeat tone...


It must be the most beautiful, wonderful, amazing sight in the world! Just flying down through the sky, from space and through the clouds, down to earth!

What? No, mom... rain drops come from clouds, not from space.

That's why I try to catch them! If I can catch a rain drop with my tongue, I feel like all the glorious things it's seen becomes a part of me! There's nothing in this world that is more special than catching a rain drop in flight.

Okay, mom... well, you caught a bunch today. Now let's go back inside before you catch a cold, too.

Oh what I would give to fly like the rain.


Instead of moving towards Will and the door, Elizabeth runs in the opposite direction, away from Will and towards the side of the roof. She places her hands on the ledge and looks over the side, and down to the streets. It is obvious that the building is easily at least 30 stories high, but the height doesn't frighten her in the least. She looks around at the rain as it "flies" past her, and falls far, far down to the street below.


Please, mom... let's just go inside.

Oh come on, Will... live a little!


His mother then climbs up onto the ledge. The ledge itself is no more than a foot wide as she stands on it with her bare feet. Rain drops crash down all around her as she carelessly turns around to face Will.


Don't you ever wonder what it's like to fly?

Mom! Just, come back down!

Fly, like the rain, sweetie!


She holds her arms out to the side and looks up towards the night sky once again. Will slowly begins approaching her as she looks back down towards him.


Fly with me, honey!

No! Mom! Please just-

Oh Will, please don't be such a bore. When are you going to learn that you're just as amazing as the rain? Beautiful, wonderful, and amazing. When are you going to learn that we're all meant to fly?


Will quickens the pace at which he is moving towards the ledge.


Don't you wanna fly with me?


His mother brings her hand to her mouth, and blows him a kiss. Then, with a smile on her face, she extends her arms, looks up to the sky, and leans back...


MOM! NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!


His yells are in vain. He could do nothing except stand there, with his arms stretched out as if still trying to grab her... but she disappeared from sight. Will stands there, just a couple of feet from the ledge. He doesn't take another step towards the edge of the roof. There he remains, alone... as the rain continues to pour down.


--------------------------------
New York City
Vega's Penthouse
Present Day
--------------------------------


I didn't move.

I couldn't move.


Vega pauses for a few seconds as he recalls that moment in his mind.


I didn't look over the ledge.

Even at that moment, I knew...

I wanted my final image of my mother to be of her...

kissing me goodbye.


Vega just shakes his head as he blankly stares at nothing in particular.


I didn't dare look over that ledge.


His face remains emotionless as he just looks off into the distance. He brings his glass of scotch up to his mouth and takes a calm sip as Alexis just looks at him with a broken heart.


I can't believe-


Vega cuts her off, as if he weren't even aware of her presence.


I always blamed my father for my mother's suicide. Perhaps it was simply a way for me to cope with her death, a way for me not to blame myself. It didn't help. As much as I blamed my father for my mother dying, I blamed myself just as much... if not, more. The burden on a person's shoulders... the feeling of responsibility you feel for the death of not just another human being, but your own mother? That's a weight that would snap any man's shoulders... and me? I was a kid. I was 7 years old.

That's when my dad came back into my life.

He heard about your mom's suicide...?

Yeah. He showed up to the funeral. That was the first time he ever spoke to me since he left. He was worried about the cost of the funeral, and the tombstone. You should have seen his face when I told him I already paid for all the arrangements in full. The sad thing is... we didn't really have any family. And with me, taking care of my mother and running schemes to make money for the past year... I didn't really have any friends either. I was naive back then, though. I assumed if you held a funeral, people would just show up.

I sat alone in the funeral home, with my mother in a closed casket.

That is, until my father showed up. Once I told him I paid for everything, and how I paid for everything, he saw dollar signs. Soon after that, he took me in and I lived with him. Part of me would have preferred to have been put into foster care, but it wasn't up to me. He was my father... and he used me and my skills in thievery to fatten his pockets. He realized that I had gotten better than him at making money the underhanded way, and started coming up with schemes that would best utilize my skills. We started getting more and more risky with our endeavors, and that's when we hit that drug dealers place I told you about earlier.

When you guys had to escape through the fire escape?


Alexis corrects herself...


Well... tried to escape?

I guess, he escaped...

Yeah. Like I said earlier... once we got to the end of the fire escape, I was supposed to drop into his arms and we'd run off with the small safe. But when I dropped down from the fire escape, my father had already started running off... and I fell down to the concrete sidewalk below, cracking my skull open. I woke up in the hospital, and like I said before... I didn't see him again...

...until I killed him.


Vega pauses momentarily, looking at Alexis carefully before continuing...


Or should I say... before we killed him.


Alexis squints, unsure of what Vega means...


"We killed him?" I'm confused... who's "we?"


Vega simply smiles.


You and me.


Alexis' face goes blank.


What?

I never told you the whole story that day. I guess it's time I come clean.

What are you talking about?

You helped me kill my father...

I just never told you about it.


Alexis' mouth is wide open, unable to believe what Vega is saying. She is speechless, all the while Vega seems as if he is fighting back a smile. He takes a sip of his scotch on the rocks before breaking the somewhat awkward silence.


Remember that time... at the hospital?


--------------------------------
New York City
Mount Sinai Hospital
1998
--------------------------------


The scene is a well lit hospital room. The only noise in the room is the rhythmic beeping of a single heart monitor. There's just one bed, and in the bed, is William... the father and husband we've become familiar with. He looks significantly older, and in poor health. He lies there underneath the sheets hooked up to an I.V. as his heart monitor continues to beep. It's interrupted by the noise of the door opening.

In walks Vega, just slightly younger as well. We can see he's actually aged pretty well throughout the years... unlike his father. With a weak and fragile voice, his father speaks.


Is that you?


Vega closes the door behind him.


No. It isn't.


His sickly father breaths laboriously before speaking up again.


I know that it is you.


Vega scoffs.


You think that you know who I am?


The ill patient cracks a smile.


A father can recognize his own son.


Vega shakes his head in disagreement.


That's just it. You don't have a son. Not anymore.

Oh, I get it. This is because I left you. Right? I admit it, I abandoned you that day at the fire escape.


Vega seems to almost hold back laughter.


You need to realize that I am not the child you once left behind. Not anymore.


His father seems to be growing a little tired, as if a simple conversation is too much for him to take in the weak state of health he is in.


So then this is about your mom? Do you blame me for it or something?


Vega shakes his head, almost pitying his own father.


I've grown up to be a person that not you, not mom, and not even myself could have ever imagined I would become. You have no idea what I've done. No idea of the things I've seen. No idea of what I'm capable of... the mayhem I'm capable of.


A look of concern comes across his father's face.


What is this... your payback?


Vega simply smiles.


You come near me, and I'll yell! Besides, doctors will be in here any minute. I'm gonna have a heart transplant surgery soon, dammit!

Don't worry. I won't lay a finger on you.

Trust me.


His father calms down a bit, but is still unsure of his son's intentions. Just then the door opens again. A female doctor walks in with her head tilted down looking at a clipboard containing the patient's file and charts. Her long dirty blonde hair covers her face as she approaches the bed.


Hello Mr. Howard. I'm your anesthesiologist, Dr. Escobar. How are you feeling today? Ready for your new heart!?

As ready as I'll ever be.

Alright, that's what I like to hear.


The doctor pulls a syringe out from her white coat and moves over to the I.V. bag hanging next to the bed. She injects it into a slot that connects to the same tube as the I.V.


What's that?

This is a steroid I'm giving you to help strengthen your already weakened immune system. It's just a precautionary procedure to ensure your health during surgery. I'll be right back in just a couple of minutes to take you to the Operating Room.

Alright, doc. Sounds good to me.


The anesthesiologist turns around, and for the first time we can finally get a clear look at her face. It's none other than Alexis. She winks at Vega as she walks on by and exits the room.


So you gonna stick around for when I wake up, or what?


Vega calmly looks down at his wrist watch.


What, you got somewhere to be?


Vega waits a couple of moments, staring intently at the second hand on his watch before finally looking up towards his father.


As much as I'd love to stick around and watch you die, I've always thought it best to leave the scene of the crime as fast as possible.


His father grows confused as an obvious look of concern comes over his face.


Die? What are yo-


Suddenly, Vega's father just stops speaking. He doesn't move at all. He just stays absolutely still. His eyes, however, remain open.


You see, that was no anesthesiologist. That was my accomplice. My partner in crime. Her name is Alexis Escobar. And that was no steroid she just injected into your system. That was Pancuronium Bromide. I'm assuming you're too simple minded to know what that is, so I'll tell you. It's a paralytic solution. That's why you can't move a single God damn muscle. Not even your tongue. Look at you... you can't even move your eye lids to blink. Can't open your mouth to spew anymore bullshit my way, huh? Do you realize that I can walk over to you right now, and simply pinch your nose... and I would stare deep into your eyes as all signs of life slowly faded away?


Vega casually walks over to the bed and sits down right next to his father. His dad's eyes are fixated on him, but he's unable to make any facial expressions. It's as if he's emotionless.


But you see... I'm not going to do that. No, no... that would be far too peaceful a death for you. Truth be told, I've already pulled the proverbial trigger. The "bullet" is arriving shortly, and it's in the shape of a heart. See, this is what this is all about... dad.

I told you, I'm not the child that you left behind. I don't go by William Howard anymore. In fact, when you left, I forged my own school records so that I could go by mom's maiden name; De La Vega. I wanted nothing to do with you. I am not the same person you left behind 12 years ago.


Vega shakes his head as he continues to pity his own father, all the while donning a sadistic smile on his face.


Heart. That's what this is all about. Your lack of a heart lead to childhood of pain and agony for mine. You have no idea how my heart felt, having to watch mom go crazy in front of my very own eyes... watching her jump off the side of a building because she wanted to "fly." You have no idea... and I think that it's about time that you do.

That's why I'm not killing you. Not just yet, at least. I'm going to leave very soon, and you're going into surgery. Alexis will be in that O.R. with you, posing as your anesthesiologist, except she won't be administering any anesthesia to you. She's just going to give you plain old oxygen, and then her job is done. She'll quietly make her exit from the room, never to be seen or heard from again.


The smile on Vega's face grows bigger.


See, that means you'll be wide awake during the entire surgery. You'll feel the knife as it cuts down the center of your chest. You'll feel the surgeons cut and sever your body open, pulling it apart. Then you'll feel every single second of them reaching inside of you and pulling your heart right out of your God damn chest. You're going to finally feel what it's like to have your heart ripped out... and you're not going to be able to do a God damn thing about it.

Oh, and then comes that "heart shaped bullet" I was talking about? I personally injected a dose of cyanide into the heart that is scheduled to be transplanted into your body. That means, you will feel every single second of the surgery... every cut, every incision, every pull, every rip, every tear... and then the moment it's over, the moment you're brand new heart beats for the first time... that lethal dosage of cyanide will instantly be pumped throughout your blood system, painfully poisoning every organ in your body as you die, in agony, within minutes.

By that time, Alexis and I will be on our way to Las Vegas in a private jet for a much needed vacation.


Vega gets up off the bed and leans in close. His face is a mere inch or two away from his paralyzed father's face. Their eyes are locked.


I told you, dad...


Vega stands up straight as he gently places his finger tips over his fathers eye lids, and closes them shut for him.


You have no idea of the mayhem I'm capable of.


--------------------------------
New York City
Vega's Penthouse
Present Day
--------------------------------


De La Vega...

My mother's maiden name.


Alexis nods, finally understanding where Vega gets his alias from. She looks absolutely stunned at the entire revelation she just had, and is trying to take it all in.


I can't believe that was your father. I thought that was just another random enemy from your past.

He's the first enemy I ever had. He's the reason I've been able to eliminate every single enemy I've ever had since then. He's the reason my hearts gone cold, the reason I'm able to do the sinister things that I do. On that day, I decided to show him the mayhem I'm capable of... and now, it's time I finally show WZCW, by eliminating the entire roster, except one. Then I'll finally get my rightfully deserved World Title shot.


A smile creeps up onto Vega's face.


Sunday Night...

I unleash hell.


-Close-​