Take my mind away
Take my mind away"
The music fades out and the lights return to normal.
Al Locker: Well folks, here we go, Martin Seas gets a shot at Tyke Index's Pure Championship
Richard Basset: His opponent ... The HcW Pure Champion ... Tyyyykkkkkeeeeeeee Innnnnnddddeeexxxxxxxxxx!!!!
An aura falls over the arena as the opening guitar line to "Box Full of Sharp Objects" by the Used blasts across the PA. Strobe lights shiver across the dark lit ceiling and entrance way. Tyke Index can be seen in his full glory - black hoody over his head giving him the look of a stealth assassin. He slowly walks down to the ring as the crowd go crazy for the former World Champion. As he enters the ring he then leans back in the corner looking almost stoned and disillusioned. The injuries from the attack clearly aren’t helping either...
Alan Carcia: Is Tyke in any fit state to defend...
The referee calls for the bell...
DING! DING!
The referee gets the match under way. Tyke Index and Martin Seas meet in the centre of the ring to lock up. Tyke doesn't want any of that and stands to lay in to Martin with kicks to the stomach. After three kicks Tyke hits a quick dropkick to Martin Seas which backs him up in to the corner. Tyke gets up gingerly holding his ribs and runs in with a clothesline in the corner. He moves back and pulls Martin out of the corner and brings him crashing down in to the centre of the ring with a vertical suplex. Tyke is then seen holding his mid-section again as he goes for the cover with one arm.
1...
Tw-
Martin Seas kicks out.
Al Locker: I think Tyke knew he wasn't going to get the win there, just playing mind games
Alan Carcia: He has that look about him tonight Locker, somethings going on in that head of his
Tyke gets to his feet and pulls Martin Seas to his feet quickly. He pushes him back first in to the ropes and whips him across the ring. As Martin comes back he ducks a clothesline and comes off the ropes again and as Tyke turns around he's levelled with a clothesline from Martin. Martin quickly gets Tyke back up and scoop slams him down to the canvas again. Martin then hits a senton splash on Tyke right across the mid-section and goes for the cover.
1...
Tw-
Tyke Index kicks out.
Al Locker: I don't know how but Tyke is actually out here fighting after being attacked by Ricky Stanton and also Lance Mikes
Alan Carcia: He's got a lot of fight in him Locker, I commend him on that
Martin Seas gets up to his feet and brings Tyke to his. He starts to kick away at the stomach of Tyke and backing him in to a corner. Tyke pushes Martin back but Martin comes back with a clothesline in the corner. Martin stands in the centre of the ring and waits as Tyke slowly makes his out. Martin then levels him with a clothesline which knocks Tyke down.
Al Locker: Martin has the upper hand here
Alan Carcia: This could be over soon if Martin has his way
Martin lifts Tyke up slowly as Tyke is holding his mid-section from the beating he got earlier. Martin kicks Tyke in the stomach and then hits a swinging neck breaker on him and goes for a cover.
1...
2..
Th---
Tyke Index kicks out!
Al Locker: How is he doing this?
Alan Carcia: I don't know Locker, that championship means a lot to him!
Martin gets up and starts to stomp away at Tyke who is on the floor, clearly in a lot of pain. Martin then drops down with a knee to the mid-section of Tyke, followed by another. Martin then lifts Tyke up to this feet and kicks him in the stomach and sets him up for The Masterstroke. He jumps up but Tyke pushes him away. Martin bounces off the ropes and gets levelled by a clothesline from Tyke which takes a lot out of Tyke who is now gathering himself on the floor, as Martin is slowly getting to his feet.
Al Locker: Where did that come from?
Alan Carcia: What a counter by the champ, Tyke
Tyke gets to his feet slowly and waits for Martin to turn around. He levels him with a quick clothesline and then again as Martin bounces back up. Tyke then scoop slams Martin to the floor.
Al Locker: He's running on pure adrenaline here Carcia!
Alan Carcia: This is why he is one of the best in this industry Locker.
Martin gets up and Tyke hits him with the Total Definition and lays over him holding his rib, and hooking a leg.
1...
2..
3.
DING! DING! DING!
Al Locker: Wow! He managed to pull off a great win!
Alan Carcia: I don't know how he does it Locker, but he does!
Richard Basset: The winner of this match and STIIIIILLL HcW PUUURE CHAAAAMPPIOON!!! TYYYYKKKEE IIINNNDEEXX!
Al Locker: Wow! Just Wow! This man is of another breed
Alan Carcia: He certainly shows why he deserves to be called the best in HcW Locker. Week in and week out!
Al Locker: This has been some night folks! And we got more to come!
Alan Carcia: It has bee... The fuc..!!
The lights in the arena blink out suddenly, casting a shadow of darkness across the arena. A dim rustling can be heard from the fans in attendance, as they dig for their cell phones. Moments later, the first small beacons of light start to appear amongst the audience as they utilize the flashlight function on their phones, attempting to discern the occurrence.
Half a minute or so later, with more and more lights popping into existence from the audience, the video Tron finally illuminates to a hazy grey. This plain grey slowly dissipates into almost a cloud of fog, slowly revealing a dimly lit, brick room. It isn’t quite apparent where this room may be located; only that there’s old black and white graffiti lining the dilapidated brick walls. Pieces of the floor appear chipped and smashed, suggesting a lack of recent use.
The fog over the scene now completely vanquished, the camera centers to the middle of the room, where a lone man sits in what appears to be an old wooden chair. On the arms, lackluster wrist restraints lie untethered. The chair, warped and discolored from years of abandonment, houses a large, sitting man. He appears to wear a grey jumpsuit, the sort worn by prisoners or asylum inmates. There appears to be a number printed on the jumpsuit, though it’s currently indiscernible. The sleeves of the jumpsuit have also been torn off at the shoulders.
As the camera pans upwards, we can finally see that this man’s face is obscured by a plain, black mask. Only his eyes can be seen… they stare vacantly at the landscape in front of him. He blinks once. Twice. Now, an utterance finally leaves his lips.
“For years and years, I dreamt only of finding success in this world. To bring forth my best self day in and day out to navigate the minefield we call our world. Many early mornings, preceded by just as many sleepless nights were a hallmark of this journey. However, there was no happy ending for me. Failure loomed around each corner. It was unrelenting, casting a net so wide over my existence that any venture or enterprise I involved myself in soon after came to a screeching halt. I’d often sit and wonder what I was doing wrong. Why did life never seem to cut me a break? Why was my effort all in vain? What did I have to do to finally make a name for myself?”
The man pauses, leaning to his right side. A moment later, his dialogue resumes. “It took many years and a great deal of consideration. Still, an answer was not yet discernible. Until, I finally had an epiphany. I realized the common thread. -EVERYTHING- I was involved with suddenly became the Titanic; a sinking ship with no hope of recovery. It led me to single realization. My true self; the inner workings of my soul. The sole purpose of my life… was to destroy. Not to create, to bring light to the world, to bring prevalence to my name. All those were dreams for other men, but were wasted on myself. For the light in the world to have a purpose, there must also be darkness.”
The camera shakes for a moment as the man’s words cease; it refocuses, just in time for the masked man's speaking to continue. “I am that darkness.”
A dark, hearty chuckle emanates from the masked man’s throat. His eyes blink several times in rapid succession, almost as though against the man’s will, in an unrelenting, manic manner. The man shakes his head back and forth for several moments, seeming to regain control of his speech, then proceeds. “It’s not often in a person’s life they can point to a single moment, a sole event that changed the world. However, this is one of those rare occurrences. While wrestling may be the beginning platform for my existence, it is by no means the end. Soon, the world over will utter under their breath; afraid to speak about me openly due to the atrocities attributed to my name. My reign will be eternal, tyrannical and destructive. Those would-be heroes that will attempt to stand in my way; eviscerated. Soon, all will bow before me… or risk their souls being ravaged, as I cast their mortal bodies aside on my path to ascension.”
The video begins to distort again, with static beginning to overtake both the video and audio feed. The camera begins shaking and the last several seconds before the feed cuts out completely, all that can be seen is the masked man’s face pressed against the camera. The final audio, audible above the static only due to the intense level of the man’s voice, is simply “Genocide is upon you”. The feed now cuts completely to black, before the arena lights return to normal a few moments later.
Cameras fade to a commercial
Al Locker: Welcome back to Monday Night Hell ladies and gentlemen... Next folks, we will see Lance Mikes defend the HcW World Heavyweight Championship against "The Big Deal" Gray Zee