“DRAWER TO DRAWER”
Click.
Static covers the screen as a Play ► symbol appears in the bottom right-hand corner.
It’s cold.
It’s pitch black.
There’s no light at all.
He shuffles, but there’s a ceiling, so he can’t sit up. There’re steel walls surrounding him, so he’s completely confined.
“Help!” He yells, hearing the echo’s bounce back at him. “Is there anyone out there?”
It’s Teddy O’Toole.
“Teddy, you mother fucker,” a voice says back, from somewhere nearby. “Did ya fuckin’ kill us both, dawg?”
“Drexl?” He asks in surprise.
“Yeah, boy. Wagwan? Where da fuck we at?” He responds, echo’s bouncing around him too.
“I have no idea. The last thing I remember was trying to, uh…”
“Kill me?”
Teddy smiles.
“No,” he protests. “I was simply establishing my position.”
Big Slim laughs.
“And yo position was dat you wanted my black ass dead, innit?” He says with a wry chuckle. “Don’t worry bout that right now. We needs to find a way outta here, yo.”
“Can you see anything? All I can feel is cold hard steel and it’s pitch black in here. My eyes haven’t adjusted yet,” Teddy notes, worriedly.
“I’ve been awake a while mang,” Big Slim replies with a sigh. “If I ain’t say so myself, I think we in a steel coffin.”
That concerns O’Toole, big time.
“They don’t make coffins out of steel, Drexl; we’re in death drawer. You know what that means, don’t you?”
There’s a pause.
“Aw shit,” Drexl says loudly. “That mother fuckin’ Tombstone.”
To be continued…
Cut.
Two teams of big, tall boys square off in hot tag action as Kpavio and Aarman Fidel take on The Burned Man and Kaiju Chiba tonight!
The bell rings and Kpavio and The Burned Man tie up, collar and elbow. Kpavio drops down and arm drags the Arcadian Mummy, keeping ahold of the arm and powering TBM onto his stomach and wrenching in the Crippler Crossface— JUSTICE!! TBM uses his strength to drag himself to a rope break!
Kpavio and TBM tie up again, this time TBM transitions behind the Skull and latches on the crossface chicken wing— ETERNAL BURNING!! Kpavio slips out and drills TBM with a back heel kick before kneeing TBM in the face, toppling him backwards right into— A TAG FROM CHIBA!
Chiba rushes at Kpavio like a bull in a China shop, but Kpavio wisely tags out to Fidel and rolls out of the ring, who gets biel tossed over the top rope into the ring. Fidel pulls himself up in the corner as Chiba charges— CHIBA SPLASH CONNECTS!!
Chiba stuffs Fidel’s head between his legs and signals for the end to the crowd, but Fidel scrambles out underneath him and runs the ropes— GORE!! Kpavio distracts the ref and tosses something to Fidel— A HUMERUS BONE? THWACK! Fidel cracked Chiba over the head, dropping him, and covers— ONE! …TWO!! …THREE!!!
Fidel steals a victory for his team tonight thanks to the Skull’s bone!
WINNERS: KPAVIO & AARMAN FIDEL
“TOY SHOP”
The bell jingles as the door to Deville’s Curiosities opens.
As ever, the shop is full of people looking for what they truly desire in their heart of hearts, and they pace around looking at the wares on the shelves.
But there is one man who is not looking at the shelves. He is not really looking at anything. He looks decidedly lost in this new place.
It’s Mannfred Curze.
He continues to walk around from place to place in the shop with no real purpose until he hears a voice call to him from the counter.
“Not sure what you’re looking for?” says Draco Deville. “I can give you anything your heart desires. All you have to do is ask for it.”
“That’s the problem,” responds Curze. “What I wasn’t isn’t a tangible thing. I don’t know that you’ll even be able to help with this.”
“Try me, I’m very resourceful…”
“Okay,” responds the Night Haunter. “I’m looking for knowledge.”
“Knowledge?”
“Knowledge of who is kidnapping the people of The Bleak. How do I find out who it is? I’ve tried everything I can think of.”
The shopkeeper looks puzzled for a moment, until an idea comes to him.
“I think I’ve got just the thing,” he says, rummaging around behind the counter. “Aha! Here it is. Now it’s tucked away inside this gift box to keep it safe…”
He puts an arm around The Horror, drawing him away from the crowds in the shop.
“You’d be best minded to leave it sealed until you’re in a safe place. Then look inside, and I’m certain you’ll find what you need.”
“Thank you,” The Horror responds, and begins to turn to leave.
But the shopkeeper is licking his lips lightly and holds one manicured hand out, palm up. The Night Haunter sighs and picks a bundle of credits from his pocket, handing some over to Draco.
Cut.
Designer meets Puppetmaster tonight in an important battle. Whose will be standing tall tonight?
The bout begins with a fair a mount of feeling out, before Felix and Narcissa lock horns. Felix gains the upper hand and DROPS NARCISSA WITH A SUPLEX! He runs the ropes and rebounds. LEG DROP HITS HOME! Felix wastes no time, hoisting her to her feet and dragging her over to the corner.
Foley sits Balenciaga up on the top turnbuckle, looking for a SUPERPLEX! NO! NARCISSA KICKS OUT AND CATCES FOLEY WITH THE TOE OF HER STILETTO! Felix staggers backward, reeling. TILT-A-WHIRL DDT PLANTS FOLEY! Narcissa looks for the STO! EYE OF THE BEHOLDER! BUT SHE CAN’T QUITE GET THE THUMBS IN FOLEY’S EYES!
Felix Foley does what he can to crawl his way to the ropes, using them to pull himself to his knees with Narcissa on his back. The Puppetmaster stands, DRILLING NARCISSA WITH A BACKPACK SENTON! The dust settles, and both claw their way back to a vertical base, locking horns again.
But Narcissa’s attention is caught by the sudden flash of a camera in her eyes. Colt Ramsey stands upon the entrance stage, smiling at her. The distraction is enough for Foley to get his opening. CUT THE STRINGS! DOUBLE ARMED DDT DEMOLISHES NARCISSA AND FOLEY PINS! ONE! TWO! THREE!
A sheepish looking Colt Ramsey cost Narcissa tonight. Foley celebrates his win, and Balenciaga looks decidedly pissed off.
WINNER: FELIX FOLEY
“DESPAIR”
Grimskull walks the slums alone. Although usually bustling with people waiting to hear a sermon from him, the makeshift streets and alleyways are empty today.
He continues along the pathways, until suddenly the ground begins to grow redder.
Grimskull turns the corner and takes a step back from the shock of what he sees before him.
They’re all dead.
Every single one of them. All those who follow him from the slums. His trusted advisors and right hand men. Each one with their heads cut clean off and placed next to their bodies, the blood pouring from the open wounds into the soil below.
Grimskull drops to his knees, the pain and despair etched into his face. He leans back and lets out a deep and gutteral roar.
And then he opens his teary eyes.
He’s lying down, and around him are members of the Third Eye, chanting with their hands over his prone body. He sits up and pushes them away in one swift movement, and stands from the marble surface upon which he was lying. He looks around and finds he’s in The Altar, and in front of him?
Vision.
“What have you done to my people?” he roars.
Vision does not flinch.
“Nothing,” he answers. “Your people are alive and well, in your slums.”
“Then what did I just see?”
“What you were supposed to see,” says Vision. “What I wanted you to see. Though both of those are the same thing.”
Vision sits on a wooden chair next to him.
“You would not have felt the same had you not seen it with your own eyes. No, to make you feel real despair, you had to feel it in your very soul – if you have one.”
Grimskull almost growls.
“Despair is the blue facet of the prism. You can never feel truly free until you have sunken to the deepest depths of despair. You needed to feel every moment.”
“You sick fucker.”
Cut.
“SHADES OF GREY”
We find Kaiju Chiba backstage, walking the halls much like last week…except here, he is on a mission. He has been looking around for Gemini since his match concluded, the concern growing on his face as he comes to grips with the fact the Photog is missing.
It’s a concern that reaches its peak when Kaiju realizes he’s not alone, turning his attention to the figure approaching him…Kpavio. Kaiju stares the Skull down, the concern quickly turning to a sense of rage as he bellows his inquiry.
“You have something to do with this, don’t you? Where is she, Skull!?”
Kpavio simply stares his adversary down at first, before shaking his head in response.
“Your guess is as good as mine, hero. I’ve made it my goal to teach Gemini her next lesson…but I have not seen her tonight.”
Kpavio looks Kaiju up and down, a slight chuckle escaping from his mouth before continuing.
“Shame on you for losing track of your friend, Kaiju. Seems your black and white ideals of heroism can’t hold a candle to shades of grey…some darker than others. Gemini will come around to understanding this, I’m sure of it…and then she’ll be ready to do what must be done.”
“That’s where you are wrong, Skull,” replies Kaiju, shaking his head. “And I’m willing to prove it, should the need arise.”
“We’ll see about that, hero,” retorts Kpavio, scoffing at the Big Save’s remarks as he leaves Kaiju to continue his search for Gemini, eager to keep her protected from the darkness surrounding Kpavio.
If not him, then who?
Cut.
The Explorer goes one on one against Perseus here tonight as we see which hard hitting Olympian is truly superior
Jackson Cade rockets out from the bell, drilling an unsuspecting Drewitt with the BREACH AND CLEAR Slingblade, sending the Explorer crashing to the mat. Drewitt stumbles up to his feet into a flurry of lefts and rights before a leaping knee stuns Drewitt enough for Cade to lift him up into the air, MASTER…NO! Drewitt slips out of the Brainbuster attempt, driving Cade to the mat with a Bulldog.
Drewitt doesn’t let Cade get up, mounting him as he begins to ground and pound with heavy lefts and rights that Perseus can barely defend against. A right to the temple finally stuns Drewitt as Cade manages to get back to his feet, only for a hard elbow to the jaw to rock Perseus as he finds himself lifted up off his feet and spiked with the SIGHTSEER DDT! That could be it there as Drewitt drops down for the cover
ONE…NO! Cade just gets the shoulder up! Drewitt lifts him up off the mat, gripping around his throat but Cade slips out of the Chokeslam attempt, landing a DDT of his own before rolling back and delivering a brutal INCENDIARY ROUND Bullhammer to a kneeling Drewitt.
Perseus is fired up as he backs up, stamping his foot as the Explorer slowly rises to his feet right into the HOSTILE DOWN! Beautiful Superkick knocks Drewitt out cold as Cade rolls down for the cover and the one…two…three!!!
Jackson Cade emerges victorious here tonight, taking another Hostile Down with that brutal Superkick.
WINNER: JACKSON CADE
“NOT A HAIR ON HIS HEAD”
Aleki Tuga walks casually and fearlessly through the cell block. No-one would dare touch a hair on his head, as far as he’s concerned. After all, he’s the brother of the mighty Amataga.
However, not everyone shares that same belief.
From the shadows reaches an arm, pulling Aleki inside.
He screams.
He bellows.
But these noises are par for the course on Deathrow and no-one pays them any attention.
Finally, the sound of him screaming for help subsides, and his bloodied body falls from the shadows back into the centre of the block.
That’s when Prometheus walks by, stumbling upon him. He quickly bends down to check for a pulse but finds nothing.
“Fuck,” he says in shock.
That fuck turns quickly into fear as thundering footsteps can be heard from behind. Amataga swoops in, grabbing him immediately by the throat and thrusting him into the nearest wall.
It’s clear that he thinks Prometheus murdered his brother.
“W-Wait,” Prom says through gritted teeth, the life being choked out of him. “I-I didn’t do it.”
Just then, the voice of Red Hood interrupts.
“Don’t do it, Amataga,” he pleads. “You can’t kill him. You can’t.”
Tuga turns to look at him as if to say ‘can’t I?’.
“I’ll give you him in a match In two weeks, I promise. You and Prometheus – one on one; I’ll put the Deathrow title on the line too. Just don’t kill him. I can assure you that he didn’t kill your brother.”
Amataga looks at Prometheus and then back at Hood.
He drops him, drawing a thumb angrily across his throat before scooping up his brother and walking away.
“We need to find who did this and fast; if we don’t, Amataga might just kill us all,” Hood says to Prometheus, who rubs his throat. “I mean, you know why the Tuga brothers were sent here, right?”
The Deathrow Champion shakes his head.
“Their sister Amelia was murdered. They didn’t catch the killer. Amataga went on a rampage and killed hundreds of men searching for the culprit. They say he’s inhabited by a demon, but all we know for sure is that he won’t stop until he finds who murdered his brother.”
Cut.
“TO TRY”
As the scene opens, we find ourselves staring down The Burned Man’s ramshackle shack. Inside of which the Sole Survivor is sitting at his desk tending to his bandages, grumbling beneath his breath at himself.
“Boy won’t listen… Gotta be a way to get him to understand me.” He seems lost in his own thoughts, clearly thinking of a way to approach Destructo Boy when the door to his home slowly begins to open. Burned Man looks towards the entrance, seeing the very boy he was talking about walking inside.
“Destructo Boy. Is there something you needed?” The Burned Man’s attempt at small talk falls to deaf ears as Destructo Boy takes a seat.
“We need to talk.” The young hero is more stern, more serious than we’ve seen him before. It’s clear that we’re not seeing Destructo Boy, we’re seeing James. He sneers a bit, finding his words. “I know you want to help me. But you need to understand that I’m a hero. You don’t understand the legacy I have to carry, okay? My father was a hero, he would have wanted me to be a hero now that he’s gone. I can’t just stay safe. I won’t stay safe until Arcadia is safe.”
There’s a long pause, awkward silence filling the room as Burned Man stews on the words before sighing.
“You’re right. I suppose I don’t know the weight placed on your shoulders. I just fear what could happen.”
“I understand, but you need to try and understand me too. I’m happy for your help, you’re knowledgeable, you care about me and I appreciate that. But you have to remember, I’m not a child, and I’m not your child. I’m going to fight, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be able to rely on you when I do.”
There’s nothing but silence, Burned Man nodding his head as he stands up, tightening his bandages as he does. “Okay. I’ll try.”
Despite the agreement, there’s still an awkwardness in the room, one that’s only alleviated by Destructo Boy opening the door to leave.
Cut.
“UNCHARMED”
We find Narcissa Balenciaga walking the streets of Arcadia with a phone to her ear.
“I’m here. Are you sure your directions are accurate? There doesn’t seem to be much around.”
She listens for a moment, nodding instinctively.
“Alright, I’ll believe you. But you need to believe me too. I need him away from me or I’m going to break his puny little neck. Can you run some defense for me?”
She smiles as the phonecall comes to an end with an agreement. Moments later, she spots her destination. A non-descript doorway in amongst the hustle and bustle of Arcadia. The kind of place that remains hidden in plain sight if one wants it to. Taking a bobby-pin out of her hair, she jimmies it into the doorlock and unlocks the door with swift precision. Narcissa slips inside the doorway.
A staircase takes her up to the second level of the dwelling, a small room with a desk and computer, kitchenette and a television that quietly plays out Arcadia’s news channel. On a small couch in front of the television, flipping through a little black book, sits Colt Ramsey. He looks surprised, but not shocked to see her and subtly puts the little black book away as he smiles at her, standing as the Designer steps into the room.
“Narcy… I knew you’d come around. But I didn’t think you’d care enough to seek me out here…”
Narcissa holds her hand up to stop him before he’s even started his trademark brand of sleaze and slick.
“No, don’t even try. I made myself crystal clear, did I not? I want no part of anything you’re offering. No means no Colt. You can either hear that, or I can beat it into you. Either way, you’re going to leave me the hell alone.”
Colt smiles at her, lowering his sunglasses in what he thinks is a seductive pose.
“Narcy-Doll. The dance has begun, I just wonder how long we have to keep waltzing around before you admit what I already know. Some time, we have to get off the dancefloor and into the bedr-”
Narcissa cuts him off before he can finish completely.
“Ew, just ew. You think this is some kind of dance? A flirt? You disgust me. I cannot say it clearer than that. Leave me the hell alone.”
Colt’s smile doesn’t falter.
“One doesn’t give up just because they are told no. The best stories in life require plenty of seeking, persistence and determination. That’s what makes me the very best… And you deserve the best, Doll.”
Narcissa balls her fist, speaking through gritted teeth.
“This may have all started with a story, but it stopped being a story a long time ago, Colt. Just back off, and I won’t have to hurt you.”
Colt doesn’t back off. On the contrary, he steps forward, reaching out to fondle her hair. Narcissa doesn’t miss a beat, slapping him fully across the face for his troubles. She backs away, back towards the staircase she had entered from, as Colt reels from the slap.
Narcissa points at him, warningly, as Colt’s hand rubs his cheek… barely hiding a smile. In frustration, she exhales, before exiting back down the stairway.
Cut.
Tonight, we see The Horror become the latest Olympian to try and take down the unstoppable World Champion.
The bell sounds as Curze rushes forward, trying to take Doom by surprise with a leaping knee but Doom was ready for that as he rolls underneath before landing a snap neckbreaker on the Horror. Curze gets to his feet into a flurry of lefts and rights from Doom as he’s pounded on his knees before he tosses the Scientist away. Doom rolls through the power throw, smirking before thrusting out his left hand as it rockets forward.
WATCH MY RIGHT…CURZE CATCHES IT! Doom looks shocked for a moment before Curze throws it back, Doom getting clipped on the chin with his own fist before getting absolutely wiped by a brutal BLEAKS BLADE! Discus Clothesline turns Doom inside out as Cuze drops down for the cover, one….two….DOOM JUST GETS THE SHOULDER UP!
The Horror grips Doom, going to lift him up to his feet but suddenly staggers back as Doom’s drones surround him, peppering him with projectiles IN THE MAD MONOLGUE as the ring begins to fill with smoke. Curze swings wildly, batting the drones down but they were just a distraction for HOVER, NO BOTHER!
Curze is stunned on his feet as through the smoke, an electrical spark begins pulsing. It slices through the smoke as Curze is doubled over in pain before a swift leaping electrical uppercut drops Curze to the mat in a SHOCKING CONCLUSION! That very well could be it as Doom drops down for the cover and the one…two…three!!!
Doom reigns supreme once more, yet another Olympian failing due to those wonderful toys of his.
WINNER: STUBBINS DOOM
“THE SHEET OF DOOM”
With Stubbins Doom still returning from Olympus, Doctor Death finds himself in the Doom Factory, rushing towards El Mariachi Muerte.
The Invasion Briefcase holder is unconscious in a steel lab chair, probs sticking into his scalp and pinching the skin on his bald head.
The Doc quickly tries to remove them, but only succeeds in waking Muerte up.
Gasp.
“No,” mutters the Mariachi.
“I need to get you out of here, old friend,” Death says, looking at another painful probe and how to remove it.
“No, put the sheet in the analyser,” he suggests, nodding behind him. “We need to know what it all means.”
The Luchadoc reluctantly does as suggested, walking around the chair to the analyser and placing the sheet within it. As the invention begins to do its job, he rushes back to Muerte.
“Right, it’s analysing it. Now let’s get you out of here, shall we?” One half of the Tag Team Champions proposes. El Mariachi nods, letting him take out another probe, to which he winces.
Suddenly, the analyser beeps, stopping them both in their tracks.
“Go,” Muerte pushes. “Get it.”
Death sighs with frustration and goes to grab it, only there’s a shuffle at the door.
“Get out of here, mi amigo,” EMM desperately pleads. “Go!!”
He quickly rushes away, looking for a secondary exit as Stubbins Doom enters the lab with his OSW World Championship and approaches. He notices the probes missing and frowns.
“Had a visitor, have we?” He asks, tapping away at his wrist held device. Suddenly, the monitors around the room begin to flicker and we see Dr. Death put the sheet in the analyser from earlier.
Doom smirks and walks over, picking it up and looking, before reviewing the information on the screen.
“Hmm,” he muses. “Very interesting indeed.”
And now he has the mysterious song sheet.
Cut.
The Coyote isn’t looking to be in fighting shape, limping to the ring while holding his back.
Thorpe is quickly on the attack with a barrage of fists but Harold blocks and ducks to the best of his ability!
LEGSWEEP BY MR. NOBODY! THORPE LANDS BACK FIRST AND YELLS OUT IN AGONY!
The Coyote tries to roll over but Attano nails him with a soccer kick to the back that sends him to the outside! Thorpe is gasping for air as Harold gets to the apron!
CJ YANKS HAROLD’S LEG! MR. NOBODY LANDS HEAD FIRST ONTO THE CONCRETE FLOOR!
Thorpe grabs a piece of rebar from beneath the ring and lays into Attano with it!
THWACK!
THWACK!
THWACK!
Blood spills from Harold’s head and Thorpe pulls him to his feet! He goes for a powerbomb!
BUT HIS BACK GIVES OUT! ATTANO BACK BODY DROPS HIM ONTO THE GOD DAMN RING APRON!
CJ teeters painfully on the apron before Harold elbows him in the face and fucking drops him to the ground! CJ can barely stand and Attano stops his back once more for good measure as he backs up and begs Thorpe to get to a knee!
SILENCED! HIDDEN BLADE ELBOW TO THE FUCKING SKULL!
THORPE IS STILL CONCIOUS!
KNEECAP! HAROLD NAILS A SHOTGUN KICK TO THE BACK! THE SHOCK KNOCKS THORPE THE FUCK OUT!
CJ wheezes on the ground as Mr. Nobody walks away with the win in a brutal match!
WINNER: HAROLD ATTANO
“HUNGER”
The Mystic Grove is a place of terror and wonder.
A clearing in the heart of a dense forest, it’s surrounded by twisted, gnarled trees that reach towards the sky like crooked fingers.
Blacktooth, flanked by several Blood Runners, enters the Grove cautiously.
“Who knew there were forests down here?” He comments, his hand never straying far from the hilt of his knife.
The air, thick with the scent of incense and the rustling of leaves, seemed to spook the Blood Runners.
But not Blacktooth.
In the center of Mystic Grove stands a stone altar, stained with the blood of countless sacrifices.
“Under the light of a full moon,” a voice sings behind them, “witches gather here to commune with the spirits of the dead, or so they say.”
Gemini.
Dark Gemini.
Blacktooth turns to face her with a scowl, but she walks up to run a finger down his chest.
“But I prefer the living.” She says seductively. “Don’t you? Warm, wet, and hungry that’s the way it should be. Just like our kiss. A hunger that burns so good.”
“I prefer it bloody.” Tooth Rot adds.
She scrunches her face.
“Have it your way.” She replies, changing gears. “Thank you for coming. I hope my performance at Pandemonium has made our alliance more concrete.”
Stepping back with an even bigger grimace, Blacktooth seems befuddled.
“What the fuck?” He growls. “What about you eliminating me makes ‘our alliance more concrete,’ are you mad!?”
Gemini’s cool exterior seems slightly rattled by the question.
“Eliminating you?” She says, confusion all over her face. “I saved you from that insane puppet master.”
“Then you rolled me up!?” Blacktooth finishes.
“No?” She says, unsure. “That isn’t how I remember it. You and I were about to take out Jackson Cade, and…”
She trails off.
The Devil isn’t playing 21 questions here today.
“Exactly.” He says, angry. “Get your shit together if you want any of my time.”
He looks at his Blood Runners.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here, boys. This bitch ain’t got nothing for me today. And this place gives me the creeps. Zeus-damned witches…”
They leave quickly, leaving Gemini to lean on the altar.
She doesn’t remember what happened. How could she? It was her Light version who rolled up Blacktooth.
But she doesn’t even know her counterpart exists.
Cut.
The enigmatic Tombstone faces off against the Luchdoc here tonight, will speed be enough or will power overwhelm the tag team champion?
The bell sounds as Death rushes forward, ducking underneath a Lariat attempt before leaping off the ropes with a beautiful springboard kick that staggers back Tombstone. Death leaps off the ropes again with one to the back of the head that drops the bigger man to one knee before the Luchadoc sprints away, leaping off once more, RIGHT INTO A BOSSMAN SLAM! YOU CAN’T RUN FROM THE FERRYMAN DEATH!
Death slowly stumbles to his feet right into a hard uppercut that staggers him. Tombstone delivers a second and then a third as the Ferryman begins to Knock before lifting Death up and wrapping him into a Bearhug. Tombstone begins to walk forward but Death begins to fight back with a series of hard headbutts that force Tombstone to drop the submission. Death delivering a hard kick to the jaw before rushing to the ropes once more
As he bounces off into a skull rattling Big Boot! Death stumbles back to his feet right into a kick to the gut as Tombstone could be looking for the end here, placing Death between his legs but as he lifts him up high, Death counters into a DDT, spiking Tombstone into the mat.
The Luchadoc is dazed but he quickly delivers another hard kick to a rising Tombstone before he leaps over the ropes onto the apron, waiting for Tombstone to get to his feet before springboarding off FOR WHOM THE BELL TOLLS! Death leapt right into a brutal falling Chokeslam as Tombstone drops down for the cover and the one…two…three!!!
Tombstone proves his overwhelming power here tonight as even Death couldn’t ignore the bells.
WINNER: TOMBSTONE
“AND TELL ME HOW THAT MAKES YOU FEEL”
Medbay.
Felix Foley and Damien Wolfe sit in a therapist’s office – set up by Zeus himself. After their beating last week and subsequent mandate by the Baron himself, they’re forced to attend together.
They both sit, patched up with various plasters and stitches, their eyes refusing to meet or look at the therapist.
They’ve been this way for quite some time.
The therapist – Susan, looks calm.
“You’ve not answered any of my questions,” she says firmly. “Zeus won’t allow you to continue wrestling for Old School Wrestling unless we understand this red light situation.”
Again, they refuse to answer.
“It’s in your best interests to comply. This red light is clearly a dangerous situation and I’d like to know how that makes you feel. Damien? Felix?”
“It’s attacked me on numerous occasions,” Wolfe angrily blurts out. “He’s attacked me!”
Foley looks furious.
“YOU’VE ATTACKED ME!” He yells. “At Pandemonium, you tried to hang me from the rafters!”
Wolfe likewise looks furious.
“YOU’RE A LIAR!”
“NO, YOU’RE A LIAR!”
Both men abruptly stand up, going nose to nose.
“Please, gentlemen, let’s talk about this,” Susan pleads. “If this session turns to violence, Zeus will not be pleased.”
Damien pushes Felix.
Felix pushes Damien.
And they’re off. Both men tackle each other to the ground, swinging right and left hands as security rushes into the room to separate them. Susan quickly extricates herself from the situation, backing away to where Ares is seemingly watching behind a closed door. She walks through to meet him.
“Nothing,” she announces. “We’re no closer to answers.”
Ares nods stoically.
“I’ll report your findings back to Zeus,” he says sternly.
Cut.
Will the Preacher or the Serial Killer survive this true trial by fire forged by Hephaestus upon Olympus?
The bell rings and Redgrave and Grimskull lock up as the fire begins to build at ringside.
Jasper quickly shifts, grabbing a side headlock on the Preacher who after a couple of moments whips the Artist toward the ropes…
AND THE FLAMES!
Jasper flops himself onto his own backside and quickly scurries backwards from the fire! Sweat begins to pool on The Artist’s face from the heat as he stares at the inferno before him when…
BAM!
THE WATCHER TEACHES REDGRAVE A LESSON WITH A MASSIVE SUPERKICK TO THE BACK OF THE HEAD!
Grimskull continues the assault, kicking Redgrave while he’s down. But in a twist, Redgrave smiles and catches Grimskull’s foot! He gets to his feet, and follows it up by yanking Grimskull in and absolutely drubbing him with a massive clothesline right across the head and neck!
Jasper, keeping the heat on, yokes the Preacher up…
AND SPIKES GRIMSKULL ONTO HIS HEAD AND NECK WITH A CRUCIFIX POWERBOMB–
THE VANISHING POINT!
With the Preacher down and out, Jasper reaches into his trunks and pulls out a soaked rag. An easily identifiable scent wafts over the arena…
KEROSENE!
Jasper then drives the K1 soaked rag into the face of the watcher, running it over his skull-crusted face and soaking it before tossing the rag into the flames to create a giant fireball that flies towards the crowd, barely dissipating before reaching them!
But in the meantime, The Preacher’s been awakened by the smell Of kerosine, and he unloads rights and lefts into the gut of Redgrave, stunning the Sinister Serial Killer when from out of nowhere…
DROP TOE HOLD!
DTH – DEATH TO HELLIONS!
This sends Redgrave sprawling onto his stomach and Grimskull follows up by rolling the Artist over, pulling him into a seated position…
CRACK!
HEADBUTT, FIRST SPIKE!
CRACK!
HEADBUTT, SECOND SPIKE!!
The Preacher steps back in front of Jasper to gain momentum before launching himself at the seated Serial Killer…
CANNONBALL, THIRD SPIKE!!!
MODIFIED MARTYR—
MISSES!!!
Redgrave rolls out of the way and Gimskull’s third spike on the back of his head is now lodged into the mat!
The Artist grabs the legs of The Preacher and…
ATTEMPTS TO SLING SHOT HIM INTO THE INFERNO AT RINGSIDE!!!
…
…
…
BURN BABY BURN?
…
…
…
DISCO INFER… NO!
The spike holds true but the torque on the head and neck is massive, forcing Grimskull to yelp out in pain as Redgrave yanks backwards with all his might. Finally, Redgrave sees the Grimskull’s spike still lodged in the ring and starts stomping and kicking at Grimskull’s head until the spike works its way loose. Jasper then snatches The Preacher from the canvas, lifting him up into a vertical suplex position before swinging him back down to the canvas—
NIGHTMARE PENDULUM—
NO! DDT COUNTER BY GRIMSKULL, SPIKING REDGRAVE ON HIS HEAD AS FLAMES SHOOT INTO THE AIR!
Grimskull drags The Artist to the ropes and The Preacher puts his foot on the back of Jasper’s neck…
HE PUSHES HIS HEAD TOWARD THE FLAMES—
…
…
…
GRIMSKULL IS READY TO GO!
…
…
…
BUT IS JASPER GOING TO BE ALL FIRED UP?!
…
…
…
NO!
THE ARTIST ROLLS OUT FROM UNDER THE FOOT OF THE PREACHER, CAUSING HIM TO STOMP THE MAT AND QUICKLY PULL BACK FOR FEAR OF HIS LEG GOING INTO THE INFERNO BEFORE HIM!
The Watcher stumbles back right into a gut kick from Redgrave, who again lifts Grimskull into a vertical suplex…
AND SWINGS HIM, SPIKING HIM ONTO HIS HEAD AND NECK WITH A NIGHTMARE PENDULUM SO BEAUTIFUL YOU COULD FRAME IT AS…
THE PORTAIT OF A KILLER!
Both men are bathed in a yellow-orange glow as the flames shoot higher from the impact. The Artist, sweating in the heat, goes to lift Grimskull off the canvas but the Preacher slips free and ducks back—
WA-BAM!
SUPERKICK!
A REPEAT LESSON TO THE CREATIVE KILLER…
WHO IS STILL ON HIS FUCKING FEET!
SMACK!
SUPERKICK BY REDGRAVE!
AND THE WAR IS ON AS GRIMSKULL DOESN’T BUDGE!
WHAM!
ANOTHER SUPERKICK!
THE BATTLE CONTINUES AS GRIMSKULL RETURNS FIRE!
LESSON AND VERSE, SAME AS THE FIRST!
REDGRAVE WOBBLES BUT HE DOESN’T FALL DOWN!
KA-RAK!
ANOTHER SUPERKICK SENDS THE PREACHER STAGGERING INTO THE ROPES, AND HE DIVES FORWARD TO AVOID THE INFERNO RAGING BEHIND HIM, RIGHT INTO A SPINNING BACK ELBOW!
THE COLLAGE OF VIOLENCE HAS BEEN COMPLETED!
Both men collapse into a heap of sweat soaked exhaustion as the conflagration of flames rages behind them.
Both men dripping sweat as they start to rise, they desperately exchange blows back and forth, left and right, Grimskull then Redgrave, Artist then Preacher, Watcher then Jasper!
And then a kick to the abdomen by Redgrave brings the exchange to a halt and The Artist hooks an arm into an underhook—
WILL THE PEDIGREE BE A SYMPHONY OF SYMMETRY?
NO!
LOW BLOW BY GRIMSKULL WITH HIS FREE ARM!
This frees Grimskull from Redgrave’s clutches as the Artist slinks to his knees. Sensing the need to make a move now, Grimskull dives forward—
CANNON BALL!!
A MODIFIED VERSION OF THE MARTYR HITS ITS MARK!!
An exhausted Watcher goes to the corner and starts pushing himself up to the top rope, back-first. With the flames a mere foot away, one false move would end this all…
Grimskull launches himself into the air looking for the Flying Headbutt—
ON HIGH HOPES, A PRAYER!
BUT THE WATCHER’S HEAD MAKES CONTACT WITH THE CANVAS!
REDGRAVE ROLLED OUT OF THE WAY!
Jasper spins to his feet as the wall of flames rages higher, and double underhooks Grimskull’s arms as the Preacher gets to all fours—
SYMPHONY OF SYMMETRY!
THE PEDIGREE CONNECTS!
But Redgrave isn’t finished yet. The Artist has been painting his canvas all match to build to this point…
The kerosene-soaked rag to the Preacher’s inflammable skull…
Working over Grimskull’s head and neck…
…
REDGRAVE WANTS TO LIGHT UP OLYMPUS WITH A FLAMING SKULL!
Jasper drags Grimskull to the edge of the ring and uses his whole body to pull Grimskull’s head towards the flames in a side head lock—
…
…
…
BUT THE PREACHER SAW IT COMING!
HE POPS HIS OWN HEAD OFF HIS BODY, AND IT ROLLS TO THE SIDE AS REDGRAVE FALLS UNCONTROLLABLY INTO THE FLAMES!
GRIMSKULL USED REDGRAVE’S OWN MOMENTUM AGAINST HIM!
IT’S AS IF A THIRD EYE CLUED HIM IN, AND THE BELL RINGS AS GRIMSKULL DROPS TO HIS KNEES, CLASPING HIS HANDS IN PRAYER!
The trial is over, and as if by fate itself or some sort of vision, Grimskull has emerged victorious over Redgrave tonight!
WINNER: GRIMSKULL
“THE FIRST STEP”
Just as the fire begins to die down from the Inferno Match, the crowd begins to get real fired up.
Jackson Cade is here.
And he is PISSED!
Jasper Redgrave, still recovering from the war he just endured, sees what’s happening…
…and smiles?
The sick son of a bitch.
Perseus slides into the ring, and Redgrave, on his knees, beckons for him to bring it.
GET THAT SICK SON OF A BITCH, JACK!
He does.
The crowd goes absolutely banana as Cade slams into the Artist.
Redgrave’s eyes roll back in his head as Cade’s powerful fists pummel his face and body, each blow fueled by the pent-up anger and frustration of a tireless pursuit.
RIGHT.
LEFT.
RIGHT.
LEFT.
ANOTHER. ANOTHER. ANOTHER.
HE KILLED RIGGS AND HIS WHOLE FAMILY!
HE NAILED YOUR HANDS DOWN AT PANDEMONIUM!
RIP THAT BASTARD’S FACE OFF!
“You’re finished, you son of a bitch,” Cade growls, his eyes burning with righteous anger as he lifts a groggy Redgrave up by the hair. “This ends tonight.”
But the Artist’s eyes flick to the side, a sinister smile playing on his lips, even as blood spills from his mouth.
“You think you’ve won, Cade? This is only the first step. You have no idea what I’m capable of.”
Tonight, Jackson Cade isn’t the Specialist of Eagle Unit. He’s not a member of A.P.D. at all.
Handcuffs mean nothing to him; instead, he lets his rage take over, beating Redgrave into submission.
The crowd watches in stunned silence as Cade unleashes a relentless onslaught on the Artist.
Finally, with one last powerful blow, Cade sends Redgrave crashing to the mat, battered and broken.
Perseus stands over his defeated foe, chest heaving as the realization of his actions washes over him.
The exhilaration of getting revenge is quickly overshadowed by the gravity of his actions.
He was taken off the Redgrave case.
He’s went rogue, and by taking matters into his own hands, he has taken his first step down a dark path.
Is that what Redgrave meant?
Leaving the Artist down in the center of the ring, Jackson Cade stumbles out of the ring in a haze.
What will the Captain say?
Will he still be an Eagle?
Is this what Redgrave wanted?
With no answers, Cade walks out of Olympus with a very uncertain future.
Only one thing’s for certain.
This isn’t over.