We sit in an abyss of pure, untouched darkness. Nothing stirs and nothing speaks. It is deathly silence. We wait for a few moments, the sound of silence still strong. Then, it begins to change. We hear things. Various little things. We cant quite make out what they are. It is far too quiet. Slowly, but surely the decibel level increases until it becomes apparent to what is being said:
Voice #1: Free me?!?
Voice #2: I must win!
Voice #3: That name...
Voice #4: I am the master of fear...
Voice #3: ...makes me sick.
These voices grow in length and in volume. The noise going up and up. Still we sit in darkness.
Voice #5: I am omnipotent...
Voice #6: I cant do it...
Voice #4: ...and he shall know fear!
Voice #6: ...and yet I must.
Voice #1: Free me?
Voice #5: ...I AM GOD!
The volume now becomes maddeningly loud. No one man can surely contain such a vile racket within ones head. It would cause your ears to bleed and your brain to melt. Still our screen is filled with nothing but utter darkness. It is only our hearing that has fallen prey to this insanity.
Voice # 1: Free Me?!?
Voice #5: I SEE ALL AND KNOW ALL!
Voice #6: HIS MISERY IS MY MISERY!
Voice #1: Free ME?!?
Voice #7: The End Approaches!
Voice #1: FREE ME?!?
Voice #7: Redemption...
Voice #1: FREE ME?!?
On that final voice, our screen suddenly whitens. Its almost as if the darkness is being burnt away by a flame of white. As the white now dominates, burned into our screens and our retinas, it soon quickly disappears. It is replaced by a close-up of the pale blue eyes of someone. The opening is quick and the eyes are wide. Slowly we pull back to see Steven Holmes. He sits, much in the same place that he did last time we were in his presence; the arm-chair of the grand-hall of Holmes residence. It has played many a role in his career so far, most notably perhaps the union of Holmes and Constantine as a force designed to reign supreme across WZCW. Many months later and the scene is indeed very much different:
Suddenly the television screen dies. It is replaced by a black screen not dissimilar to where we found ourselves earlier. Holmes has the remote control in his hand. He has switched the screen off in sheer hatred. He casts, nay; he throws the remote aside, disgusted by its presence. Holmes rises, noting an alcoholic drink of some sorts waiting for him on the fireplace which roars mightily. It is a healthy, warm glow which takes a dark and disturbing twist when its after-effects are observed. The rather gothic local is filled with twisting, jagged shadows of pure unbridled evil. Holmes staggers, his legs still weak from the sleep. He makes it to the fireplace, where his portrait should be hanging gloriously above it. It is no longer adorning the fine walls though. He turns to the right of the fireplace. The portrait sits, shrouded in mystery beside the fireplace instead. He notes his Elite Championship in the portrait, won in a match that featured John Constantine no less. He sneers at that thought and consumes his beverage in one fell swoop. A sigh echoes throughout the hall, originating from Holmes.
Holmes: Its almost time...
Holmes glances in the general direction of a clock that stands watch over time in the Holmes household. He cannot quite make out the time, but knows it is close. He can sense this. He can taste this...
Holmes: The hour is at hand John. The hour when you and I finally eliminate our ties to the past and ignite in a glorious revolution of hatred and destruction. Our symphony is playing cant you hear it John? Its coming, so softly, until...
Holmes closes his eyes and once more the loud, violent voices are screaming:
Voice #7: Redemption...
Voice 8: Tremble in your boots!
Voice #7: REDEMPTION!
Voice #1: FREE ME?!?
Holmes snaps his eyes open.
Holmes: Its so close John. Its so, so close. I cant wait for the moment. I cant wait for the reality. I have only imagined what it shall taste like. I have only dreamt about the copper stained taste of your blood on my tongue as I sample the spoils of war. And we shall engage in perhaps the bloodiest of wars my dear boy. For so long I have said you are a war machine and that is without question the truth, but the fact of the matter is this; I built the war machine. I know how to demolish it too. I am in your psyche John and Im, sitting there, perched right in the forefront of your mind, playing with your head. Youre not necessarily afraid of me John, but I know you will be. Ive seen it. Ive tasted it...
Sweat drips off of Holmes forehead. A combination of the shocking visions he seems to be hearing along with the fact that hes wrapped tightly in a large robe next to a roaring fire have lead to this. Holmes now moves away from the fire, slinking away into the shadows, his voice still audible, his presence omnipotent in this venue.
Holmes: Ive tasted victory, and while I have also sampled defeat John, I know the time is nigh. Youre preparing yourself for carnage. You wait for the nastiest, most gruesome fight of your career and life, but in reality, what youre getting is the beauty of war. What you shall see and feel and experience is the utter complete consumption of your soul as I unleash all my built-up rage, and anger over the past year at the copious failed attempts to ascend. I have maintained a steady climb to the top, but through this dance we shall participate in, I will rise higher than anyone has ever before and I will claim my throne as the king of the mountain, reigning supreme and looking over my kingdom from up on high.
Holmes springs back into shot, out of the shadows. Accompanying him is a cutlass of all things. He shadow-fences, fighting with his dark double in a duel which ultimately has no conclusion. He continues his twisted talk.
Holmes: And it will...it will free me John. Ive had this constant voice demanding that I free it and I can do so by conquering you at Redemption. I...I can absorb all of my hatred and my dark, disturbed feelings and finally finish my tapestry of destruction. Once I have gained what I seek from you John, then I can finally focus on the final push towards the summit. Once you are done John, then and only then can it stop being personal and then become business.
Holmes accidently lets the cutlass fly out of his hand, landing in the searing flames, burning at the steel, potentially lost forever. Holmes does not give it a second thought though. To him it is a meagre object.
Holmes: And so we turn our attention to what Ive been waiting for...for the longest time. It has been an eternity since Kingdom Come. It has been a lifetime since I was betrayed by a man I considered to be, potentially, my equal. Instead of soaking up his own moment in the sun, he had to darken mine. Isnt that right John? You couldnt stand being overshadowed by me again so you had to take your pathetic prize and drive it has hard as you could into my back, severing our alliance, our...friendship?
Pondering this thought, Holmes strokes his chin momentarily before shaking his head.
Holmes: No, you were no more a friend to me than a wrench is to a common dirt dwelling workman. John, you were a tool used by me, for me. Why I alluded to you earlier as an equal I dont know, but its time for me to escape the facade I have created and make it apparent, you are, and forever will be an instrument for destruction, played by those wiser and more cunning than you. David Cougar did it and then I did it. You are pathetic, sticking to those more successful than you and sucking them dry like a leech attempting to capture their greatness. Well I refuse to let you do it anymore. I will squash the leech, rendering it useless forever more.
Holmes mimes the action and casts the leech into the fire.
Holmes: Theres so much going on in my head John. So much and its beginning to be let out. Its screeeeaming to be let out. But you know what? I wont let it. Why? Because I like it. No, I...I LOVE it. While it would drive others mad, it is like a lullaby of destruction. Its beauty is not lost on a soul such as mine. A dark, devilish soul. I wont pretend to be the good Samaritan I swore I was for two years now. No longer will I lie to myself. NO! I am the most evil, devilish human being within WZCW now. Not Ty Burna, not Barbosa and certainly not you John. I am pure, blisteringly powerful, evil. And thats what makes me better than you. You, much like Big Dave didnt, you dont have the darker nature within the recesses of your being to pull that final trigger and destroy me forever, and until you do, I will haunt you, stalking you in your dreams, and plaguing you until the day you perish, even seeing you in the afterlife where you will have eternity to battle me. It is as I said; you may not fear me John, but I am, most certainly in your head.
Holmes smiles madly. He is talking to no one. This isnt directed at an audience other than John Constantine who is not present in mind, body or soul within this room. This surreal lunacy is not completed though as Holmes pivots on his toes to now face this portrait he so once loved.
Holmes: Ricky Runn, Steven Kurtesy and then...and then...John Constantine...then it will be complete. My personal agenda. My inner hatred and vile disgusting monstrousness will finally become one with me fully after I have completed my Redemption. It is a marvellous and momentous occasion. I will be whole finally. For the first time in a long time I will be the complete Steven Holmes and will have ended my personal vendettas forever more. Big Dave is no more, Ricky Runn is paying for his sins, Steven Kurtesy finally fell to my feet and at the namesake of my achievement, you too John, you too will be tossed from the cliff-face of victory as I climb to the peak of success and turn my attention to business rather than...pleasure. The World Heavyweight Championship is mine to have...
Holmes lifts his portrait and examines it, pondering what to do with it.
Holmes: I will take it from whoever I need to, but it, along with the rest of the world will be mine. It is a birthright and I am a God. I will have and hold this world in the palm of my hand and it will worship at my feet. And it shall be glorious.
Holmes throws the portrait with all his might into the open flames. The masterpiece is engulfed in flames, reflecting Holmes sanity engulfed in raging madness.
Holmes: I want to watch the world burn as it worships at my feet, but first I must taste Constantines blood. Before then...I must set it free...
As the fire eats away at the portrait even more, we become absorbed by the image. Holmes begins to chuckle before breaking down into full scale cackling. We close out with the twisted sound of Holmes laughter, and the fires of hell engulfing us.
