MD109: Chris KO vs. Blade
- Thread starter Ty Burna
- Start date
- Status
Richard Blonoff
Make America Rassle Again
Deadline has been extended by 24 hours.
In a local New York City news station, the production team are preparing for todays broadcast. The anchors, one male, one female, sit behind the desk going over the stories.
Okay, we open with NATO summit. Transition into pieces about ISIS, then Ukraine. Move into the celebrity leaks, then the net neutrality protest. All good?
Yep, got it.
The producer walks to the cameras. Were on in two minutes, guys.
Thanks, Craig.
Suddenly, the doors to the newscast area burst open and Blade struts in, flanked by his Men in Black army.
Sorry Im late. The traffic was terrible.
The producer storms up to him.
Who the hell are you?
Blade smirks.
Im the guest news anchor for today. I guess you missed the memo.
How the hell did you get past security?
You have four security guards. Theres ten of us. Do the maths, big guy.
The Men in Black position themselves around the room. Two go behind the news desk, and pull the anchors out of their seats. Blade vaults over the desk, and takes a seat.
Aw hell yeah! A spinny chair!
He spins around gleefully before grabbing the desk to stop himself.
Make up!
He closes his eyes, extending his jaw, awaiting the make up. After a few moments, he opens his eyes, and stares daggers at the make up artist, whos cowering to the side. Blades expression suddenly become intense and intimidating, with anger bubbling just beneath the surface.
I said Make up.
The make up artist nervously scuttles over. She uses a brush on Blades face, before backing off. Blade looks over at the production team, who stand frozen, scared and confused.
How do I look?
No one responds.
Good stuff.
He picks up the anchors notes and starts shuffling through them.
Dont need this.
He throws a page away.
Or this.
And another.
Yknow what? Ill just improvise.
He tosses the rest of the pages behind him.
How long till were live?
Th-thirty seconds
Okay. Vocal exercises How now Brown cow. How now brown cow. The rain in Spain Falls mainly on the plane Okay, Im good.
He looks up at the petrified production team with a broad grin.
Okay, team! Lets make this a great broadcast. Cant do it without you guys!
The red light on the camera pops on. Hes live on air. With a smirk, he looks right into the lens.
Good afternoon, New York. Do not adjust your TV sets. My name is Blade. I am a professional wrestler for Wrestlezone Championship Wrestling. Yeah, I know what youre thinking. Why bother having the word Wrestle twice in the promotion name. Surely once would suffice. Silly names aside, Im here with a very serious message.
He cracks his knuckles and leans forward over the desk. Deadly serious.
At this moment in time, my friends and I are taking over this town.
The Men in Black walk into the shot.
Should you be nervous? Well, that depends on who you are. Are you watching this on a wide-screen LCD TV inside your six bedroom home, as you sip on a fine wine? Then maybe you should be nervous. Those of you who have sold you soul for fortune and fame are seen as enemies to the Men in Black. People like Mick Overlast, who hide who they truly are in order to sell more merchandise and become more popular with the fans. People like .
He pauses for a moment, and sighs a weary sigh.
Chris K.O. A man who has taken a tragedy such as a plane crash, an incident where people lost their lives, and he has turned it into some kind of PR campaign. People are talking about how miraculous it was that Mister K.O. survived on a remote island for so long. It was all over the news. Indeed, it was this very news channel that first broke the news that Chris K.O. had rejoined our society. Its truly pathetic that people think hes worth such fanfare. The men standing behind me? Theyve gone through hell worse than Chris K.O. will ever understand. These men dont have souls, they have no hope. All they believe is in is what Im doing.
He takes out a cigarette and lights it up. With a deep drag, he looks back into the camera.
But there are some of you that should be very happy that my boys are in town. The hundreds of you in homeless shelters across the state, all gathered around the one TV. The sick and addicted, who watch this in hospital waiting rooms, knowing youll be kicked out at any moment. Mothers and fathers who pawned off their most valuable possessions and family heirlooms because their children wanted a TV to watch cartoons on. These are the people who Im talking to. My people. You can suffer and feel sorry for yourself Or you can join me. Go out and create a little chaos for those people who need order and structure to survive. Those people who need their money and possessions to feel safe. Those are the kind of people I want to tear down And if youre as poor and oppressed as the men standing behind me once were, you can fight back. Ill be at Meltdown, destroying that fame-seeking poser Chris K.O. and the phony traitor Mick Overlast. I encourage you to come along. Make your voice heard, because you are the majority. You have the power. You just dont realise it yet. And the rich minority among us hope you never realise it.
He looks over at the producer.
Now cut the cameras.
The cameramen comply.
And that, as they say, is a wrap.
Blade gets to his feet and starts a slow clap, his expression becoming lighter in a split second.
Now THAT is what I call journalism.
He walks over to the angry, scared producer and puts an arm around him.
Listen, buddy. Im afraid I have to destroy your studio a little bit. Its nothing personal. Well, its a little personal. See, the person who owns the studio, the person who owns the whole damn network is the kind of person Im trying to destroy. Profiting off attention and fame seeking ****es like Chris K.O. has become. My mission wont be accomplished overnight, but I try to chip away at it. And chipping away includes taking out fear-mongering propaganda-spreading hack hives like this one.
He snaps his fingers and the Men in Black do their thing. Tearing down the set, smashing cameras off the ground, ripping equipment apart. Blade watches with a mixture of pride and bloodlust, before letting out a content sigh.
Okay guys, Im going for a drink. You know where to find me when this job is done.
He looks around at the news station employees.
Anyone wanna join me?
Silence.
Are you sure? The drinks are one me...
More silence.
Fine, your loss. Later, boys and girls.
He struts out of the building as his minions continue their demolition.
Okay, we open with NATO summit. Transition into pieces about ISIS, then Ukraine. Move into the celebrity leaks, then the net neutrality protest. All good?
Yep, got it.
The producer walks to the cameras. Were on in two minutes, guys.
Thanks, Craig.
Suddenly, the doors to the newscast area burst open and Blade struts in, flanked by his Men in Black army.
Sorry Im late. The traffic was terrible.
The producer storms up to him.
Who the hell are you?
Blade smirks.
Im the guest news anchor for today. I guess you missed the memo.
How the hell did you get past security?
You have four security guards. Theres ten of us. Do the maths, big guy.
The Men in Black position themselves around the room. Two go behind the news desk, and pull the anchors out of their seats. Blade vaults over the desk, and takes a seat.
Aw hell yeah! A spinny chair!
He spins around gleefully before grabbing the desk to stop himself.
Make up!
He closes his eyes, extending his jaw, awaiting the make up. After a few moments, he opens his eyes, and stares daggers at the make up artist, whos cowering to the side. Blades expression suddenly become intense and intimidating, with anger bubbling just beneath the surface.
I said Make up.
The make up artist nervously scuttles over. She uses a brush on Blades face, before backing off. Blade looks over at the production team, who stand frozen, scared and confused.
How do I look?
No one responds.
Good stuff.
He picks up the anchors notes and starts shuffling through them.
Dont need this.
He throws a page away.
Or this.
And another.
Yknow what? Ill just improvise.
He tosses the rest of the pages behind him.
How long till were live?
Th-thirty seconds
Okay. Vocal exercises How now Brown cow. How now brown cow. The rain in Spain Falls mainly on the plane Okay, Im good.
He looks up at the petrified production team with a broad grin.
Okay, team! Lets make this a great broadcast. Cant do it without you guys!
The red light on the camera pops on. Hes live on air. With a smirk, he looks right into the lens.
Good afternoon, New York. Do not adjust your TV sets. My name is Blade. I am a professional wrestler for Wrestlezone Championship Wrestling. Yeah, I know what youre thinking. Why bother having the word Wrestle twice in the promotion name. Surely once would suffice. Silly names aside, Im here with a very serious message.
He cracks his knuckles and leans forward over the desk. Deadly serious.
At this moment in time, my friends and I are taking over this town.
The Men in Black walk into the shot.
Should you be nervous? Well, that depends on who you are. Are you watching this on a wide-screen LCD TV inside your six bedroom home, as you sip on a fine wine? Then maybe you should be nervous. Those of you who have sold you soul for fortune and fame are seen as enemies to the Men in Black. People like Mick Overlast, who hide who they truly are in order to sell more merchandise and become more popular with the fans. People like .
He pauses for a moment, and sighs a weary sigh.
Chris K.O. A man who has taken a tragedy such as a plane crash, an incident where people lost their lives, and he has turned it into some kind of PR campaign. People are talking about how miraculous it was that Mister K.O. survived on a remote island for so long. It was all over the news. Indeed, it was this very news channel that first broke the news that Chris K.O. had rejoined our society. Its truly pathetic that people think hes worth such fanfare. The men standing behind me? Theyve gone through hell worse than Chris K.O. will ever understand. These men dont have souls, they have no hope. All they believe is in is what Im doing.
He takes out a cigarette and lights it up. With a deep drag, he looks back into the camera.
But there are some of you that should be very happy that my boys are in town. The hundreds of you in homeless shelters across the state, all gathered around the one TV. The sick and addicted, who watch this in hospital waiting rooms, knowing youll be kicked out at any moment. Mothers and fathers who pawned off their most valuable possessions and family heirlooms because their children wanted a TV to watch cartoons on. These are the people who Im talking to. My people. You can suffer and feel sorry for yourself Or you can join me. Go out and create a little chaos for those people who need order and structure to survive. Those people who need their money and possessions to feel safe. Those are the kind of people I want to tear down And if youre as poor and oppressed as the men standing behind me once were, you can fight back. Ill be at Meltdown, destroying that fame-seeking poser Chris K.O. and the phony traitor Mick Overlast. I encourage you to come along. Make your voice heard, because you are the majority. You have the power. You just dont realise it yet. And the rich minority among us hope you never realise it.
He looks over at the producer.
Now cut the cameras.
The cameramen comply.
And that, as they say, is a wrap.
Blade gets to his feet and starts a slow clap, his expression becoming lighter in a split second.
Now THAT is what I call journalism.
He walks over to the angry, scared producer and puts an arm around him.
Listen, buddy. Im afraid I have to destroy your studio a little bit. Its nothing personal. Well, its a little personal. See, the person who owns the studio, the person who owns the whole damn network is the kind of person Im trying to destroy. Profiting off attention and fame seeking ****es like Chris K.O. has become. My mission wont be accomplished overnight, but I try to chip away at it. And chipping away includes taking out fear-mongering propaganda-spreading hack hives like this one.
He snaps his fingers and the Men in Black do their thing. Tearing down the set, smashing cameras off the ground, ripping equipment apart. Blade watches with a mixture of pride and bloodlust, before letting out a content sigh.
Okay guys, Im going for a drink. You know where to find me when this job is done.
He looks around at the news station employees.
Anyone wanna join me?
Silence.
Are you sure? The drinks are one me...
More silence.
Fine, your loss. Later, boys and girls.
He struts out of the building as his minions continue their demolition.
Kermit
the Frog
We once were vultures. Scavengers of sorts. Ty would kill, and we would eat. That was the system for those of us who had not evolved yet. Ty was the leader of the pack, and we latched onto his back like parasites (for the time being, that is). But these two men are no vultures. They are lions. They are kings in their own right. Ty injected quality allies into his regime. This is different.
Ty Burna, Steven Holmes, and the Elite X Champion, Constantine, stand tall in the center of the ring at the end of Ascension 83. The crowd is half-stunned, and the other half is booing merciless. Chris K.O. finds himself aligned with the former group. His eyes are wide and fueled with questions. He stands among a group of superstars and backstage officials as they watch the newly formed Elite stand tall in the ring on a flat screen in the back. Every eye is glued to the TV, as if it were broadcasting some kind of national tragedy. It takes a moment, but Chris sheds the stunned skin and begins to grow cold. He mutters under his breath.
Chris: Not again.
He steps back from the group and picks up a stray chair leaning on the opposite wall. He takes it and lets out a barbaric yawp as he slams the chair against the TV screen. The group steps back as pieces of glass fall down from the television. Chris drops the chair and looks up at the concerned, and confused group. He storms away to make his way down the hall.
The scene switches to the island. The sound of tree limbs breaking and swift footsteps fill the air as we see Chris and Steve frantically rushing through the woods. It was only seconds ago that they heard a growl deep within the jungle on the island. They continue running until finally reaching the beach where they originally landed. Chris and Steve both start looking around for what to do next.
Chris: What the hell was that?
Steve: I dont know, but it sounded like some kind of animal.
Steve runs over to the shelter and starts to pull it apart.
Chris: What do we do? We cant stay on the beach if something like that lives here. We could be killed if we fall asleep.
Steve: Thats why we are not staying on the beach. Now, shut up and help me untie this twine. Were going to need all of it.
Chris looks puzzled as to why they need to break apart the shelter, but he follows the order. Steve seems to have a plan.
Chris: How in world does something survive on this island? How did it even get here?
Sweat pours down Steves forehead as he frantically tries to untie a knot.
Steve: Well, there are two possibilities. One, its a herbivore, and it only eats fruits and plants. Which, would be a great thing for us. Two, its a carnivore, which means there are other animals on this island to eat, or it eats fish. Which, means that we are potential prey as well.
Chris: Lets hope for the former.
They finally finish getting the twine. Steve quickly rolls it up and then grabs a large stick down at his feet.
Steve: Come on.
Chris nods in curiosity.
We transition back to real time. We see a giant conference table where Ian Crawford is sitting at the head with several businessmen lining the sides. Ian is reading from a document as he goes over some numbers.
Ian: So, the quarterly numbers show a steady increase in-
BOOM! The door of the conference room bursts open. An emerging Chris K.O. (with Steve tucked underneath his arm) steps in. Ian looks slightly annoyed as he pushes his glasses up on his face.
Ian: Gentlemen, would you all please excuse us.
The businessmen look confused and whisper to each other, but they all eventually stand up and exit with their briefcases. Each one passes Chris (with glares abound), but his eyes are angry and fixed on Ian. Ian responds back with a strong stare. The last man out closes the doors behind him. Ian begins to speak, but Chris cuts him off.
Chris: You told me you could handle the intel side of this Ian.
Chris reaches for something in his back pocket as he walks towards Ian.
Ian: Chris, please. I know you are angry, but that gives you no right to barge in here like you did.
Chris throws a wadded up folder out on the table in front of Ian. Papers fall out of it to reveal that it was the folder Ian gave him on Kagura Ohzora.
Chris: What use is this intel and if you cant tell me what the hell Ty is up too? Your vision has grown dull. Maybe you can't handle what I need help with due to your new business.
Ian stands up in defiance.
Ian: I AM NOT SOME KIND OF MAGIC MAN!
Chris stands down as Ian raises his voice.
Ian: You of all people should know that Ty Burna is a master of deception. How was I to know that he would spear his oldest rival and consume the power of The Elite? HOW?!
Silence reigns in the room as Chris doesnt respond. Ian follows up with softer words.
Ian: I am as surprised as you are.
Chris hesitates for a moment, but then takes a seat at the table. He puts Steve in the seat next to him.
Chris: I was fully prepared to get on the microphone and call out Ty the next night, but him leading the Elite makes things more complicated.
Ian: When I slotted you to speak on Aftershock, I did not know what would happen at the end of Ascension. I agree, Holmes and Constantines involvement in the equation makes things more complicated. It is as if Ty himself lassoed the largest dwellers in the dark and placed them at the foot of his door. It is as if he is expecting a visitor.
Chris and Ian stare at each other for a moment. Chris strokes his beard roughly before standing up. He paces over to the walls of Ians conference room. He peers into a trophy case hanging on the wall.
Chris: These men at the door, Ian. They are not apostles. They are not followers. They stand nearly equal alongside Ty. Its happening again, yet its all so different.
Chris looks over at Ian.
Chris: The game has changed.
We switch back to the island, and now the day is at twilight. We see that the raft Chris and Steve floated in on is several dozens of feet off-shore. The twine Steve used earlier for shelter is wrapped around one of the rungs on the raft. The other end of the twine is tied around a large rock on shore. The waves rock the raft as Chris and Steve peer over the edge to see if the beast has revealed itself. Steve has the stick he grabbed earlier in-hand. Chris whispers.
Chris: Do you think it is going to show up?
Steve: I dont know, but where we are is a lot safer than on the shore. Well pull ourselves back to shore in the morning.
Steve and Chris both stop looking over the edge and sit opposite each other inside the raft. They lean up against the sides. Chris watches Steve as he inspects the stick.
Chris: You should sharpen that thing. I need get one for myself, too.
Steve: I plan on it tomorrow. Ill use a rock to do it. We will find you one, too.
Steve smiles, but Chris doesnt reciprocate. He stares down at the bed of the raft for a moment before speaking.
Chris: What do you do, Steve?
Steve: Hmm?
Chris looks up at Steve.
Chris: What do you do for a living?
Steve: Oh, I teach.
Chris: What subject?
Steve: Island survival 101.
Steves joke is enough to crack a smirk on Chris face.
Steve: No, but seriously, I teach Math.
Chris: That sounds interesting.
Steve: Not as interesting as being a professional wrestler.
Chris pauses to think.
Chris: I dont think I ever told you officially that was my job title. Do you watch?
Steve: Not really. Im a teacher, though. I try to stay hip and follow a broad range of pop-culture media to stay relevant amongst my students. Once you told me your name, I instantly remembered seeing you before. You were in a article a few years back where you almost overdosed on pills.
Chris smirk fades. He rubs his buzzed head as he looks back down at the bed of the raft.
Chris: Yeah.
Feeling some awkwardness, Steve lightens up the mood.
Steve: So, are you going to suplex whatever that thing is if you encounter it?
Chris lets out a small laugh as he leans back into a cozier position. He rubs his hands over his face.
Chris: Maybe.
Steve begins to laugh as he adds on.
Steve: Ill make the three count!
The two share a laugh as the camera pans up and shows the star gods watching over the island and the raft. The camera remains focused on the stars as a shift in time occurs. It is still dark, perhaps in the early morning, as the camera pans back down to reveal that Chris is now asleep. We get a close up on him as a hand grabs his shoulder. Chris jolts awake, but he is met by Steve telling him to be quiet with a finger over his lips. Steve then uses the same finger to point towards the island. Chris nods and slowly joins Steve by peering over the side of the raft.
There it is, the detour to getting off the island. A shimmering black panther with bright yellow eyes rears its intruding head out of the trees and claims the shore as its own. Steve and Chris are both silent as they watch the beast look around the beach. It spots the rock that the twine is tied too and sniffs it. The panther looks out at the raft, but Chris and Steve quickly duck as to not be seen. They look at each other for a few seconds before looking back over the edge. The panther has found interest elsewhere. Chris speaks under his breath.
Chris: No.
The panther slowly stalks its way to the mound where the woman from the plane is buried. Chris speaks a little louder.
Chris: No.
The panther begins to paw away the sand on the mound. Blood begins to boil in Chris as he stands up. Steve takes notice and quickly tries to pull him back down.
Steve: Chris, no.
Its too late.
Chris: You better not fucking touch her, you bastard!
The panther jerks his head up and stares at Chris. Chris yells through his gritted teeth.
Chris: I swear Ill kill you! Get the hell away!
Steve: Chris, sit down!
The panther only spares Chris a few seconds of attention before continuing its digging. Chris becomes even more furious as he tries to jump out of the raft, but Steve grabs on to him.
Steve: Chris! No! CHRIS, STOP!
Chris: Let me go damn it!
The panther reaches down and grabs the arm of the woman in the mound and drags her out of the grave. Chris snaps and grabs the twine to start pulling the raft back in. Steve tries to grab his hands to stop him, but Chris elbows him off him.
Chris: YOU BASTARD! YOU FUCKING BASTARD!
The raft is far off shore, and by the time they get halfway back the panther has already begun to drag the body into the trees. His yellow eyes still shine brightly in the shadows. Suddenly, Steve steps up and elbows Chris square in the nose. Chris stumbles back and grabs his nose as it begins bleeding profusely. Chris screams in pain, but instantly jumps back up, ready to attack Steve. Steve yells loudly in opposition.
Steve: DEAD IS DEAD!
Chris stops in his actions as he grips his bleeding nose. Steve tosses the twine over the edge, and the raft begins to drift back out. Steve looks back at Chris sympathetically. He tries to catch his breath from having to wrestle Chris before speaking.
Steve: Im sorry.
Chris slowly walks over to the side of the raft facing the island and slowly pushes Steve aside. He leans over the edge and sees the womans feet become engulfed in the shadows of the forest. The last thing Chris sees are the yellow eyes of the disrespectful beast.
We transition back to the conference room. On the screen is a pair of blue eyes to replace the yellow ones. They belong to a photograph of former WZCW World Heavyweight Champion, Steven Holmes. Chris is looking down at a folder stocked with information on the member of the Elite.
Ian: Im sorry there isnt much more there. Holmes, along with Constantine, have been gone about as long as you have. Other than their interesting formation of the Elite, there isnt much more that you dont already know.
Chris nods and closes the folder. He aligns it with the Constantine folder underneath.
Chris: This is fine, Ian. Good job.
Ian: Oh, and dont forget this folder either.
Ian slides it from his position at the table to in front of Chris.
Chris: Dont tell me this is another member of the Elite?
Ian: No, its your opponent this week.
Chris opens up the folder to reveal a headshot of Blade.
Ian: While the members of the Elite may not have changed very much, Blade has, especially recently. He has revealed himself to be the leader of a rogue group of men dressed in black. They have targeted various superstars of all shapes and sizes in random attacks. Even your old friend, Everest.
Chris looks up at Ian for a short moment and then back at the folder.
Ian: It should be noted that Blade had a lot of hype going into the Lethal Lottery. He was pegged by many experts to become the winner. I have no doubt this match could have very well been requested by himself as a type of redemption. After all, you are the 2nd place finisher of the Lethal Lottery. Beating you would grant him a linear concept of achievement and would instill self-entitlement to the very lottery winner himself. In other words, beating you would put him in line for a world title shot.
Chris thumbs through the folder and sees a picture of Overlast and Blade.
Ian: If that isnt enough for him to want to destroy you, dont forget that you hold a large portion of responsibility for the complete eclipse of Blades former pet project.
Chris: The Sons of Destiny.
Ian: Precisely. You were everything to Ty that Mick Overlast never was to Blade. Under the Apostles shadow, the Sons quickly disintegrated.
Chris: And what of Mick Overlast? Surely his recent spat with Blade is a wild card shuffled into an already foreign deck.
Ian: Hes not someone I would trust if that is what you are asking. However, you find yourself pitted against the man who has turned his back on him. With the men in black lurking outside the ring, he might prove to be a helpful ally in this match.
Chris: And with all this chaos, I still have to worry about the Elite. I am not dumb enough to believe that Ty has turned a blind eye to my return.
Ian: Neither am I. Taking over the Elite would support our notions.
Chris: That is why I need to make a move now. Whether it bleeds into my match with Blade or not, I am going to confront Ty Burna and his new allies. I am not the scared child Ty once knew me as. He can't just hang me on a chaos symbol as he pleases. This is different. I am different.
We get a black screen.
The screen stays black as we hear the sound of two objects rubbing up against each other. A shot appears of a small rock being rubbed down the end of a wooden stick to sharpen its already pointed end. We see several strokes of the rock down the stick. A worn-out hand is holding the sharpening tool. Finally, the sharpening ceases. The hand drops the rock.
We switch to a shot of an animal tooth tied with twine as it dangles on a hairy chest from a bearded neck. The camera angle switches back to the stick as it slowly raises to the face of the wielder. The camera follows it to reveal the fully bearded face of Chris K.O. His eyes are piercing blue. He holds the sharpened part of the stick to his lips. As he blows the shavings away, the camera cuts out.
|---------------------------------|
Ty Burna, Steven Holmes, and the Elite X Champion, Constantine, stand tall in the center of the ring at the end of Ascension 83. The crowd is half-stunned, and the other half is booing merciless. Chris K.O. finds himself aligned with the former group. His eyes are wide and fueled with questions. He stands among a group of superstars and backstage officials as they watch the newly formed Elite stand tall in the ring on a flat screen in the back. Every eye is glued to the TV, as if it were broadcasting some kind of national tragedy. It takes a moment, but Chris sheds the stunned skin and begins to grow cold. He mutters under his breath.
Chris: Not again.
He steps back from the group and picks up a stray chair leaning on the opposite wall. He takes it and lets out a barbaric yawp as he slams the chair against the TV screen. The group steps back as pieces of glass fall down from the television. Chris drops the chair and looks up at the concerned, and confused group. He storms away to make his way down the hall.
|---------------------------------|
The scene switches to the island. The sound of tree limbs breaking and swift footsteps fill the air as we see Chris and Steve frantically rushing through the woods. It was only seconds ago that they heard a growl deep within the jungle on the island. They continue running until finally reaching the beach where they originally landed. Chris and Steve both start looking around for what to do next.
Chris: What the hell was that?
Steve: I dont know, but it sounded like some kind of animal.
Steve runs over to the shelter and starts to pull it apart.
Chris: What do we do? We cant stay on the beach if something like that lives here. We could be killed if we fall asleep.
Steve: Thats why we are not staying on the beach. Now, shut up and help me untie this twine. Were going to need all of it.
Chris looks puzzled as to why they need to break apart the shelter, but he follows the order. Steve seems to have a plan.
Chris: How in world does something survive on this island? How did it even get here?
Sweat pours down Steves forehead as he frantically tries to untie a knot.
Steve: Well, there are two possibilities. One, its a herbivore, and it only eats fruits and plants. Which, would be a great thing for us. Two, its a carnivore, which means there are other animals on this island to eat, or it eats fish. Which, means that we are potential prey as well.
Chris: Lets hope for the former.
They finally finish getting the twine. Steve quickly rolls it up and then grabs a large stick down at his feet.
Steve: Come on.
Chris nods in curiosity.
|---------------------------------|
We transition back to real time. We see a giant conference table where Ian Crawford is sitting at the head with several businessmen lining the sides. Ian is reading from a document as he goes over some numbers.
Ian: So, the quarterly numbers show a steady increase in-
BOOM! The door of the conference room bursts open. An emerging Chris K.O. (with Steve tucked underneath his arm) steps in. Ian looks slightly annoyed as he pushes his glasses up on his face.
Ian: Gentlemen, would you all please excuse us.
The businessmen look confused and whisper to each other, but they all eventually stand up and exit with their briefcases. Each one passes Chris (with glares abound), but his eyes are angry and fixed on Ian. Ian responds back with a strong stare. The last man out closes the doors behind him. Ian begins to speak, but Chris cuts him off.
Chris: You told me you could handle the intel side of this Ian.
Chris reaches for something in his back pocket as he walks towards Ian.
Ian: Chris, please. I know you are angry, but that gives you no right to barge in here like you did.
Chris throws a wadded up folder out on the table in front of Ian. Papers fall out of it to reveal that it was the folder Ian gave him on Kagura Ohzora.
Chris: What use is this intel and if you cant tell me what the hell Ty is up too? Your vision has grown dull. Maybe you can't handle what I need help with due to your new business.
Ian stands up in defiance.
Ian: I AM NOT SOME KIND OF MAGIC MAN!
Chris stands down as Ian raises his voice.
Ian: You of all people should know that Ty Burna is a master of deception. How was I to know that he would spear his oldest rival and consume the power of The Elite? HOW?!
Silence reigns in the room as Chris doesnt respond. Ian follows up with softer words.
Ian: I am as surprised as you are.
Chris hesitates for a moment, but then takes a seat at the table. He puts Steve in the seat next to him.
Chris: I was fully prepared to get on the microphone and call out Ty the next night, but him leading the Elite makes things more complicated.
Ian: When I slotted you to speak on Aftershock, I did not know what would happen at the end of Ascension. I agree, Holmes and Constantines involvement in the equation makes things more complicated. It is as if Ty himself lassoed the largest dwellers in the dark and placed them at the foot of his door. It is as if he is expecting a visitor.
Chris and Ian stare at each other for a moment. Chris strokes his beard roughly before standing up. He paces over to the walls of Ians conference room. He peers into a trophy case hanging on the wall.
Chris: These men at the door, Ian. They are not apostles. They are not followers. They stand nearly equal alongside Ty. Its happening again, yet its all so different.
Chris looks over at Ian.
Chris: The game has changed.
|---------------------------------|
We switch back to the island, and now the day is at twilight. We see that the raft Chris and Steve floated in on is several dozens of feet off-shore. The twine Steve used earlier for shelter is wrapped around one of the rungs on the raft. The other end of the twine is tied around a large rock on shore. The waves rock the raft as Chris and Steve peer over the edge to see if the beast has revealed itself. Steve has the stick he grabbed earlier in-hand. Chris whispers.
Chris: Do you think it is going to show up?
Steve: I dont know, but where we are is a lot safer than on the shore. Well pull ourselves back to shore in the morning.
Steve and Chris both stop looking over the edge and sit opposite each other inside the raft. They lean up against the sides. Chris watches Steve as he inspects the stick.
Chris: You should sharpen that thing. I need get one for myself, too.
Steve: I plan on it tomorrow. Ill use a rock to do it. We will find you one, too.
Steve smiles, but Chris doesnt reciprocate. He stares down at the bed of the raft for a moment before speaking.
Chris: What do you do, Steve?
Steve: Hmm?
Chris looks up at Steve.
Chris: What do you do for a living?
Steve: Oh, I teach.
Chris: What subject?
Steve: Island survival 101.
Steves joke is enough to crack a smirk on Chris face.
Steve: No, but seriously, I teach Math.
Chris: That sounds interesting.
Steve: Not as interesting as being a professional wrestler.
Chris pauses to think.
Chris: I dont think I ever told you officially that was my job title. Do you watch?
Steve: Not really. Im a teacher, though. I try to stay hip and follow a broad range of pop-culture media to stay relevant amongst my students. Once you told me your name, I instantly remembered seeing you before. You were in a article a few years back where you almost overdosed on pills.
Chris smirk fades. He rubs his buzzed head as he looks back down at the bed of the raft.
Chris: Yeah.
Feeling some awkwardness, Steve lightens up the mood.
Steve: So, are you going to suplex whatever that thing is if you encounter it?
Chris lets out a small laugh as he leans back into a cozier position. He rubs his hands over his face.
Chris: Maybe.
Steve begins to laugh as he adds on.
Steve: Ill make the three count!
The two share a laugh as the camera pans up and shows the star gods watching over the island and the raft. The camera remains focused on the stars as a shift in time occurs. It is still dark, perhaps in the early morning, as the camera pans back down to reveal that Chris is now asleep. We get a close up on him as a hand grabs his shoulder. Chris jolts awake, but he is met by Steve telling him to be quiet with a finger over his lips. Steve then uses the same finger to point towards the island. Chris nods and slowly joins Steve by peering over the side of the raft.
There it is, the detour to getting off the island. A shimmering black panther with bright yellow eyes rears its intruding head out of the trees and claims the shore as its own. Steve and Chris are both silent as they watch the beast look around the beach. It spots the rock that the twine is tied too and sniffs it. The panther looks out at the raft, but Chris and Steve quickly duck as to not be seen. They look at each other for a few seconds before looking back over the edge. The panther has found interest elsewhere. Chris speaks under his breath.
Chris: No.
The panther slowly stalks its way to the mound where the woman from the plane is buried. Chris speaks a little louder.
Chris: No.
The panther begins to paw away the sand on the mound. Blood begins to boil in Chris as he stands up. Steve takes notice and quickly tries to pull him back down.
Steve: Chris, no.
Its too late.
Chris: You better not fucking touch her, you bastard!
The panther jerks his head up and stares at Chris. Chris yells through his gritted teeth.
Chris: I swear Ill kill you! Get the hell away!
Steve: Chris, sit down!
The panther only spares Chris a few seconds of attention before continuing its digging. Chris becomes even more furious as he tries to jump out of the raft, but Steve grabs on to him.
Steve: Chris! No! CHRIS, STOP!
Chris: Let me go damn it!
The panther reaches down and grabs the arm of the woman in the mound and drags her out of the grave. Chris snaps and grabs the twine to start pulling the raft back in. Steve tries to grab his hands to stop him, but Chris elbows him off him.
Chris: YOU BASTARD! YOU FUCKING BASTARD!
The raft is far off shore, and by the time they get halfway back the panther has already begun to drag the body into the trees. His yellow eyes still shine brightly in the shadows. Suddenly, Steve steps up and elbows Chris square in the nose. Chris stumbles back and grabs his nose as it begins bleeding profusely. Chris screams in pain, but instantly jumps back up, ready to attack Steve. Steve yells loudly in opposition.
Steve: DEAD IS DEAD!
Chris stops in his actions as he grips his bleeding nose. Steve tosses the twine over the edge, and the raft begins to drift back out. Steve looks back at Chris sympathetically. He tries to catch his breath from having to wrestle Chris before speaking.
Steve: Im sorry.
Chris slowly walks over to the side of the raft facing the island and slowly pushes Steve aside. He leans over the edge and sees the womans feet become engulfed in the shadows of the forest. The last thing Chris sees are the yellow eyes of the disrespectful beast.
|---------------------------------|
We transition back to the conference room. On the screen is a pair of blue eyes to replace the yellow ones. They belong to a photograph of former WZCW World Heavyweight Champion, Steven Holmes. Chris is looking down at a folder stocked with information on the member of the Elite.
Ian: Im sorry there isnt much more there. Holmes, along with Constantine, have been gone about as long as you have. Other than their interesting formation of the Elite, there isnt much more that you dont already know.
Chris nods and closes the folder. He aligns it with the Constantine folder underneath.
Chris: This is fine, Ian. Good job.
Ian: Oh, and dont forget this folder either.
Ian slides it from his position at the table to in front of Chris.
Chris: Dont tell me this is another member of the Elite?
Ian: No, its your opponent this week.
Chris opens up the folder to reveal a headshot of Blade.
Ian: While the members of the Elite may not have changed very much, Blade has, especially recently. He has revealed himself to be the leader of a rogue group of men dressed in black. They have targeted various superstars of all shapes and sizes in random attacks. Even your old friend, Everest.
Chris looks up at Ian for a short moment and then back at the folder.
Ian: It should be noted that Blade had a lot of hype going into the Lethal Lottery. He was pegged by many experts to become the winner. I have no doubt this match could have very well been requested by himself as a type of redemption. After all, you are the 2nd place finisher of the Lethal Lottery. Beating you would grant him a linear concept of achievement and would instill self-entitlement to the very lottery winner himself. In other words, beating you would put him in line for a world title shot.
Chris thumbs through the folder and sees a picture of Overlast and Blade.
Ian: If that isnt enough for him to want to destroy you, dont forget that you hold a large portion of responsibility for the complete eclipse of Blades former pet project.
Chris: The Sons of Destiny.
Ian: Precisely. You were everything to Ty that Mick Overlast never was to Blade. Under the Apostles shadow, the Sons quickly disintegrated.
Chris: And what of Mick Overlast? Surely his recent spat with Blade is a wild card shuffled into an already foreign deck.
Ian: Hes not someone I would trust if that is what you are asking. However, you find yourself pitted against the man who has turned his back on him. With the men in black lurking outside the ring, he might prove to be a helpful ally in this match.
Chris: And with all this chaos, I still have to worry about the Elite. I am not dumb enough to believe that Ty has turned a blind eye to my return.
Ian: Neither am I. Taking over the Elite would support our notions.
Chris: That is why I need to make a move now. Whether it bleeds into my match with Blade or not, I am going to confront Ty Burna and his new allies. I am not the scared child Ty once knew me as. He can't just hang me on a chaos symbol as he pleases. This is different. I am different.
We get a black screen.
|---------------------------------|
The screen stays black as we hear the sound of two objects rubbing up against each other. A shot appears of a small rock being rubbed down the end of a wooden stick to sharpen its already pointed end. We see several strokes of the rock down the stick. A worn-out hand is holding the sharpening tool. Finally, the sharpening ceases. The hand drops the rock.
We switch to a shot of an animal tooth tied with twine as it dangles on a hairy chest from a bearded neck. The camera angle switches back to the stick as it slowly raises to the face of the wielder. The camera follows it to reveal the fully bearded face of Chris K.O. His eyes are piercing blue. He holds the sharpened part of the stick to his lips. As he blows the shavings away, the camera cuts out.
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