“DISAPPEAR”
BACKSTAGE
Click.
The Drag’em to Hell logo flickers in glowing neon.
It floats over a raging inferno, the camera focusing on it heavily as a shadow appears behind it, walking up to the flames and staring at them intently. As we adjust to what we see, the sounds of rain pouring, pelting the pavement, brings us in.
One Day Before Drag’em to Hell.
Alton Whitlock, still alive, his defaced driver’s license in hand, looms over the remains of his car. He winces a bit, feeling the area on his head where he was knocked out. We are once again treated to the etched image on his license. Disappear.
“You’re a good man. But I’m not sure you get what it means to see you as a person.”
He shakes his head, taking the license and tossing it into the flames, letting them eat away at it before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a phone, calling up what we can only assume is a member of his campaign committee.
“It’s Alton. I need you to drive out to me right now. Don’t ask questions. Once you have me somewhere safe, put out a press release.”
He waits for the man on the other side of the line to finish what he’s saying before calmly replying.
“Tell them Alton Whitlock has been found dead.”
His words hang in the air as he slowly makes his away towards the bottom floor of the parking deck, the scene fading out, leaving us with nothing but darkness.
“LOOSE”
BACKSTAGE
The entranceway to the Slaughterhouse. Where usually the stragglers of fans are filling in, what we are greeted to is more horrific. A trail of bodies lie strewn across the scene, with blood smeared on the floors. It is here that we find the Caped Crusader, Redwing, kneeling over one of the victims who is still conscious. An orderly, dressed in green scrubs now stained crimson.
A feeble cough from across the hall catches Redwing’s attention. He leans the orderly up against a pillar and investigates the noise. The source is familiar to us. Mr Johnson, Mez’s Warden. He struggles to sit up as Redwing reaches him. The warden grabs at Redwing’s hands, desperately.
“You have to help…” He pleads. “He’s loose!”
Redwing doesn’t need to ask who, he knows. And judging by the trail of victims, he can tell exactly the desperation in which the Warden speaks.
“You have no idea how dangerous he could be. You have to subdue him. Find him. Bring him under control. Protect the people, they are all in danger.”
Redwing stands, looking down the hallway in the direction of a set of large bloody footprints. As he sets off, the Warden calls after him.
“Oh, and Redwing… He has a knife.”
Redwing disappears from view and the Warden pushes himself to his feet. Wincing in pain, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a phone. With a few taps, he makes a call.
“Yes, it’s done. Minimum collateral damage. He is on the trail… Have you tripled security at each exit? He cannot escape the Slaughterhouse… No, of course they haven’t signed off, you leave that to me… The payoff once people see what a monster he can be on the loose, that’s our ticket. Bigger and brighter things, my friend.”
He hangs up the phone and puts it back in his pocket with a smirk.
Cut.
LUKE MARSHALL VS. IGNATIUS
SINGLES MATCH
“The Father” looks to get back on track and bring down the Black Flame so he can spread His word to the masses.
Marshall wastes little time in going on the offensive, driving his shoulder into the gut of Ignatius and drilling them into the corner, unleashing a vicious barrage of punches and kicks. Ignatius tries to slip between the ropes but the Father grabs it by his mask and begins pulling back, putting pressure on the neck of the Black Flame.
After a few moments, the Father wraps his arm around Ignatius’ neck and drops down with a neckbreaker, snapping Ignatius over the top rope. Ignatius can’t figure out this from that as he crumbles to the mat as Marshall stands to his feet, driving his weight down knee first into the neck of the Black Flame, delivering some more punches to the head of his opponent.
The Black Flame tries to fight free, throwing some punches and kicks of his own but they just barely miss the Father as he gets back up. Luke delivers a teeth rattling boot to the side of Ignatius’ head, lifting him up and tossing him hard into the turnbuckle before charging in himself with a stiff corner lariat that shifts the ring some. Luke unleashes another barrage of stomps that drop Ignatius to a seated position.
Luke backs up some steps before running in and driving his knee into the head of Ignatius that nearly spins his mask free. Luke Marshall drives his foot into Ignatius’ throat, choking the life out of the masked soul as much as he can, praying as he does so.
Tired of manhandling the Black Flame, Luke Marhsall lifts the Ignatius to his feet, placing his head between his legs. Hooking both arms, Luke lifts Ignatius up, dropping him down. SENT FROM ABOVE! The Butterfly Piledriver drills Ignatius to the mat.
ONE!
TWO!
NO!
Luke stops the count himself, lifting Ignatius up. Luke knows he has this match in hand, but wants to send a message. Marshall stands to his feet and lifts Ignatius up onto his shoulders in a torture rack position. Luke throws the Black Flame’s feet over, driving his knee hard into the masked face of Ignatius. GOD’S DYING BREATH! Luke covers.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
“The Father” Luke Marshall extinguishes the Black Flame in a show of force. Who else will fall?
“WILL THE REAL JUNKRAT PLEASE STAND UP?”
BACKSTAGE
“I’m the real Junkrat!”
“No, I’m the real Junkrat!”
“All you other Junkrats are just imitating!”
In a locker room stuffed full of Junkrats like a can of sardines, it appears that Junkrat has grown tired of himself.
The Junkrats bicker back and forth, rabble rousing and yelling and making provocative gestures.
Finally, the door swings open.
Sigil.
“Hi, Sigil!” They all scream.
“Gentlemen,” Sigil nods.
“You gotta kill all these other Junkrats, Sigil!”
“Hey, fuck you Junkrat! You’re a clone!”
“Yeah well so are you!”
“Why don’t all of you just suck my rig!?!”
Sigil shakes his head. “Junkrat, have you forgotten the promise I made?”
“No,” they all reply. “You promised a Big Boomer. But you’re a damned liar so we had to build one ourselves.”
Sigil tilts his head to the side, “Oh?”
“Yeah,” they all say with a grin. “It’s fucking massive. We were thinking about blowing you and this whole god damn place to smithereens with it!!”
Sigil looks around. “Hmm, interesting.”
“What?” Asks the Junkrats.
“It’s just… Where is it?”
“Where’s what?”
“The big boomer you built.”
Awkward silence.
Crickets.
“Alright,” one of the Junkrats says. “Which one of you idiots forgot to bring the big ass bomb?”
“You did you fucking moron!”
“Oi! No one calls me a moron!”
“Gentlemen!” Sigil yells. “Settle down! Now, I have a surprise for you.”
Sigil reaches into his bag and pulls out a rather futuristic looking gun. He fires it, and a portal opens up in the room.
“The last Junkrat through doesn’t get the boomer I promised you. Better hurry!”
Junkrats don’t ask questions. They all just haul ass towards the portal and leap into it.
All but one of them.
The portal closes.
“Aww,” Junkrat says. “Did they get to go back to Paradise? Is that where you left the boomer?”
“Huh?” Sigil says. “Oh, nah. They all just ran straight into outerspace. At this very moment, they’re all choking to death, floating through the void.”
Junkrat stands there, confused.
“Im other words, congratulations,” Sigil says. “You’re the real Junkrat.”
Junkrat grins and places his hands on his hips. “Right, I absolutely knew that. I kept telling them I was. Idiots! So where’s my bomb you promised me?”
“After,” Sigil says.
“After what?” Asks Junkrat.
Sigil exits the room. “Our match!”
Junkrat smiles.
Time to whoop some ass.
MEZ VS. REDWING
SINGLES MATCH
A trail of blood and screams has led Redwing into a corridor of the Slaughterhouse.
Before him lies three dead bodies.
Stabbed to death.
Mez hovers over them, a large, bloodsoaked knife in his hand, looking at Redwing. “Breadcrumbs,” Mez says smiling behind that mask. “Breadcrumbs for Hansel.”
Before Redwing can respond, Mez charges.
And this is how the match begins! GUT CHECK to Redwing!!! Redwing doubles over and Mez mounts him!
MEZ STABS THE KNIFE DOWNWARD AT REDWING’S THROAT!!!
Redwing jilts his head to the side and the sharp end collides with the ground!! A jab to the throat from Redwing and he’s able to shove Mez off of him!!! Mez drops the knife. Redwing kicks the knife away and beckons Mez to stand up.
“You’ve crossed the line no one is supposed to cross, Mez.”
“Lines! Lines, lines, lines!” Mez screams. “What is it with heroes and their lines?”
Mez charges Redwing, but Redwing counters another Gut Check with a drop toe hold!
MEZ’S HEAD GOES THROUGH THE DRYWALL!!!
IT’S STUCK THERE!!! HE CAN’T PRY HIMSELF LOSE!!!
Redwing examines the situation. He lines himself up!
SHOULDER BLOCK INTO THE BACK OF MEZ’S KNEE!!! MEZ CRIES OUT IN PAIN!!!
Redwing begins stomping the back of Mez’s knee as he falls to it!!! Once, twice, three times, four times, five times!!!
Mez finally frees his head from the dry wall, turns, and uses his remaining good leg to grab Redwing’s face!
HEAD CHECK!!!
REDWING IS FUCKING OUT!!!
Mez grabs Redwing and drags him out of the corridor and into the gorilla area, even with the damaged knee. The strength of the monster is absolutely undeniable! Mez throws Redwing through gorilla and out onto the entrance ramp!
Redwing rolls halfway down. Finally coming to, he slowly starts to climb to his feet!!!
Mez charges!!!
LOU THESZ PRESS!!!
NO!!! MONKEY FLIP COUNTER FROM REDWING!!! MEZ FLIES THROUGH THE AIR AND LANDS ON HIS BACK RIGHT NEXT TO THE RING APRON!!!
Redwing scrambles to his feet and jogs down the ramp to Mez, pulling him to his feet!! He rolls Mez in the ring and follows suit!!!
DING! DING! The match has officially started!!
Redwing makes the cover!!!
HE HOOKS THE LEG!!!
ONE!
…
TWO!
…
THREE!!!
It’s over!!! Redwing has beaten the monster! Redwing stands to his feet, raising his arms in victory!
NO!!! Mez’s free foot was on the rope!!! The match continues!!!
Redwing smells a victory over the vicious murderer and lifts him to his feet!
THE SEDATIVE!!! SPINNING ELBOW OUT OF NOWHERE TO REDWING!!! RIGHT INTO HIS CRANIUM!!!
NO!!! REDWING DUCKS!!!
KICK TO MEZ’S GUT!!!
RED JUSTICE!!! RED JUSTICE RIGHT ONTO REDWING’S KNEE!!! WILL IT BE ENOUGH TO TAKE OUT THE HARD HEADED MEZ!?!
REDWING HOOKS BOTH LEGS!
ONE!
…
…
TWO!
…
…
THREEEEEE!!!
Redwing and Mez drug each other to hell, but Redwing emerged victorious over the monstrous killer!!!
“YOU”
RINGSIDE
The match is over and the Slaughterhouse is flooded with figures. Orderlies and doctors swarm the ring now that Mez has been located and somewhat contained by Redwing. Taking no chances, they push past the Red Knight and the numbers game begins to subdue Mez.
It is then that Redwing lets out a gutteral scream that causes many of the orderlies to stop in their tracks. His chest heaves in heavy breaths. Redwing reaches out, grabbing an orderly by the throat and choking him till he passes out!
“WAS IT YOU?!” He screams before tossing the orderly aside.
A group of white clad figures corner Redwing. DARKNESS FALLS TO ONE ORDERLY! AGAIN, A SECOND ONE GOES DOWN! THIRD CURBSTOMP TAKES OUT ANOTHER!
REDWING HAS SNAPPED!
“WAS IT YOU?! WAS IT YOU?!”
He screams the line over again, practically foaming at the mouth as he strangles another scrub unconscious. One nearly gets a shot in before Redwing has him in a headlock. He slams the orderly’s head into the turnbuckle… OVER AND OVER AND OVER! THE POOR GUY’S HEAD IS BUSTED WIDE OPEN BUT HE KEEPS ON PUMMELING IT! THERE’S BLOOD EVERYWHERE!
“YOU! WAS IT YOU?!”
With nothing else, he turns his attention to the monster, Mez, now calmed with a shot of whatever drug cocktail the Warden ordered for him. Redwing tosses aside the two Orderlies that protect him and starts PUNCHING A CATATONIC MEZ RIGHT IN THE MASK! HE DOESN’T CARE! HAMMERING BRUTAL BLOWS TO THE ALREADY PROTECTED HEAD OF MEZ! WITH NO CAUTION TO HIS OWN FISTS!
“WAS IT YOU?!”
By the time he had finished, Redwing leaves nothing but destruction in his wake. Orderlies lie strewn about the Slaughterhouse. Battered, broken and bleeding. Redwing has snapped. He collapses to his knees at ringside with a primal scream before making his exit, storming off, destroying a trail of more Orderlies who try to stop him as he goes until there are none left standing.
Only destruction and blood in his wake.
Cut.
“WHAT MUST BE DONE, II”
BACKSTAGE
The Slaughterhouse.
Hiding inside of its walls is a small meeting place, a table, the exact same room in which X and Gouldern had met only two weeks previously.
And exactly where they meet now.
Gouldern’s face is smug as always, a half smile gracing his lips as he slides a phone over towards X, a headline on its screen.
Alton Whitlock Found Dead!
The story goes on to say his car was found destroyed, and his ID burned alongside it. Mark chuckles.
“I knew I was right to trust you with this. You’re a soldier, aren’t you? Do what I say, and I’ll reward you. But now, I have a few other targets I want you to focus on before I give you the information you seek.”
X’s lips curl into a scowl as he shoots up, a dent in the table from where his metal arm landed.
“We had a deal, Mark. I did as you asked, now you help me. That’s how this works.”
Mark chuckles.
“Is it? If I remember correctly, you were never repaid for what you did, were you? You were merely followed orders. And now, I know what you did. If you don’t do as told, I’ll see no problem using my knowledge as leverage.”
X looks ready to leap over the table but stops, Mark backing up to the open door way behind him, showing his escape route clearly. X stops and Gouldern chuckles.
“Sit back down. I have a list and you have work to do. What must you do, X? Tell me.”
“He only does what must be done.”
A new voice from behind Gouldern makes the mogul turn around in shock, a boot to the chest pushing him back into the table, X grabbing old of him and forcing him down to the table, a hand on his throat. Mark snarls, looking up at his assailant.
Alton Whitlock.
The Candidate straightens his tie and looks at X.
“I’m sorry I didn’t stay away. I had the headline put out to fool Gouldern, but I knew he would try something else. So I came back to put a pin in whatever he may try.”
X is quiet, merely tightening his grip on Mark’s throat only for Alton to stop him with a hand on the shoulder.
“Don’t. He’ll get what’s coming to him the fair way. With a trial. Though in this case, that trial will be by combat. The Butcher has granted us a match at my request. There will be no friends, no foes. You are merely free to choose what you do in it. Don’t let me stop you.”
X looks at Alton for a moment, then back to Mark before sighing and letting go. Mark gasps for air as X moves past Alton, the Candidate leaving soon after, both going separate ways. And with that, the scene fades out, focused in on the seething rage on Gouldern’s face.
SIGIL VS. JUNKRAT
SINGLES MATCH
The last of 128 Junkrats stands in the ring, staring at Sigil. Sigil stares right back at Junkrat.
“This is for all the marbles!” Junkrat screams!
“What marbles?” Asks Sigil.
“These!” Junkrat grabs his nutsack and shakes it. Sigil rolls his eyes.
DING! DING! Junkrat charges Sigil, but Sigil drops him with a drop toe hold that smushes Junkrat’s face into the second turnbuckle. A dropkick to Junkrat’s exposed ribcage causes him to hit the mat and roll out of the ring! Sigil climbs to the top rope! Junkrat slowly staggers to his feet!
CORKSCREW SENTON!!!
BUT JUNKRAT DODGES!!!
SIGIL DISAPPEARS BEFORE HE HITS THE GROUND!!! COSMIC LEAP!!!
HE REAPPEARS RIGHT IN FRONT OF JUNKRAT!!! ROUNDHOUSE KICK!!! FINITE!!!
Junkrat staggers backward into the guardrail!
Sigil clotheslines him over! NO!!!
JUNKRAT GRABS SIGIL’S ARM AND BITES IT!!! HIS TEETH SINK INTO THE COLLECTOR’S FLESH!!!
Sigil cries out in pain!! He tries to free himself, but its no use!!!
Sigil cosmic leaps with Junkrat!
A whistle sounds through the arena, crescendoing as a shadow grows in the middle of the ring that looks a lot like…
SIGIL AND JUNKRAT!!! THEY SLAM INTO THE MAT FROM THE CEILING ABOVE!!!
Junkrat lets go of Sigil’s arm! The Collector attempts the pinfall!!!
ONE!!!
…
TWO!!!
…
THREE!!! NO!!! SO CLOSE BUT NO CIGAR!!!
Sigil feels the victory now. That pinfall was so close. He climbs off of Junkrat and sets up for his Planeswalker dropkick finisher!
Junkrat coughs and slowly begins climbing to his feet. Sigil lines up the perfect angle.
SIGIL CHARGES!!! PLANESWALKER!!!
BUT SIGIL HAS A BOMB!
BOOOOOM!!!!
JUNKRAT AND SIGIL FLY ACROSS THE SLAUGHTERHOUSE IN OPPOSITE DIRECTIONS!!!
Junkrat sighs. “Oh, Bugger!”
Junkrat splats against the wall, slowly peels off of it like a decal, and falls into the crowd of rabid OSW fans.
Sigil nearly collides into the wall but cosmic leaps just in time back to the ring, where he lands on the mat.
Suddenly, Sigil and the entire audience hears:
KAAAAAAAAAAAA
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!
Junkrat is riding on a tiny rocket through the air! He has a cowboy hat on his fucking head!
“Yeeeeeeeehaaaaaaaaw!”
He soars right towards the middle of the ring where Sigil stands!
PLANESWALKER!!! SIGIL TAKES JUNKRATS HEAD, AND HIS BODY, OFF THAT LITTLE ROCKET WITH A SINGLE DROPKICK!!!
BLOOD POURS DOWN JUNKRAT’S FACE!!! THE ROCKET EXPLODES INTO FIREWORKS IN MIDAIR!!!
SIGIL MAKES THE COVER!!!
ONE!!!
…
TWO!!!
…
THREEEEEEEE!!!
…
NO!!!!!! Junkrat, somehow, kicked out!!!
Sigil stands up, a plan formulated in his head. He waits patiently for Junkrat to climb to his feet. Junkrat, slowly but surely, arrives to his feet wearing a mask of blood.
Sigil charges Junkrat!!!
PLANESWALKER!!!
JUNKRAT DODGES!!!
COSMIC LEAP!!!
BUT JUNKRAT JUKES AND SIGIL STILL MISSES!!! JUNKRAT CHARGES HIM!!!
THE CONCUSSION MINE!!! SIGIL IS OUT COLD!!! JUNKRAT MAKES THE COVER!!!
ONE!!!
…
…
TWO!!!
…
…
THREEEEEEEEEE!!!
Junkrat has done it. He’s defeated Sigil, and the referee raises his arm in victory. Before Junkrat leaves, Sigil arrives to his feet and reaches in his bag.
“THE BIG BOPPER”
RINGSIDE
Sigil digs through his bag and reveals two small vials of a black, sludge-like liquid.
“Here you are,” Sigil says, showing the two vials. “Not one, but two, Big Boomers.”
“But… But…” Junkrat struggles to express himself. “They’re small.”
“Yes, they are very small. But if one of these vials were to shatter, it could potentially destroy a small city.”
“Promise?” Asks Junkrat hopefully.
“Promise.” Sigil answers.
Junkrat looks at the vials and then back at Sigil.
“A bomb that powerful ain’t a Big Boomer,” Junkrat grins toothily. “That’s a Big Bopper.”
Suddenly, Junkrat lifts an eyebrow and looks at Sigil. “So why are you giving me two?”
Sigil nods. “Well, I made use of the replicator you and… Well, you, helped me obtain. Consider it a gift.”
“Fuckin’ A, Sigil. That is an excellent gift.”
Sigil hesitates for a moment, as though he is actually considering the ramifications of giving Junkrat two bombs that could destroy a city.
“Once I hand these to you,” Sigil says. “Junkrat, you can’t drop them. When the vials break…”
Junkrat nods. “Boom.”
Sigil nods back. He places the two vials in Junkrat’s hand. Junkrat immediately places one in his vest pocket.
The other?
“Well,” Junkrat says. “May as well give it a whirl, eh?”
Junkrat lifts the second vial high into the air.
The crowd screams and begins moving towards the exits, panicking.
“No!” Sigil screams, and he swiftly reaches in his bag and pulls out that portal gun, and fires it right at Junkrat.
Junkrat and the bomb disappear.
Sigil has literally saved Hell’s Kitchen from exploding all together.
The fans roar with approval as Sigil bags the portal gun.
MEANWHILE…
…IN GARY, INDIANA…
A whistle crescendos as a shadow grows larger.
Junkrat falls towards the ground.
He shrugs, and throws the vial at the ground below him. He then turns to where his back is facing the ground, folds his hands behind his head, and closes his eyes.
BOOM.
“TIPPING POINT”
SOMEWHERE ELSE
In a dark hallway in the depths of The Slaughterhouse, The Judge sits in pre-match meditation.
All is silent. His eyes are closed. His axe rests across his lap.
Balance.
But behind him, a shadow moves.
Blackveil.
She prowls forward until her veiled face is inches from The Judge’s head.
She whispers.
“Your end is nigh, oppressor.”
The Judge eyes dart open. He leaps up, swings his mighty axe…
Swiftly, Blackveil snaps her fingers. Click. She disappears.
“Show yourself!”
She reappears behind The Judge.
“What’s a judge who cares not for justice?”
The Judge flies around, his axe again slicing through the air.
Click.
She reappears down the hall, out of reach.
“A fraud.”
The Judge takes a menacing step forward.
“What’s an executioner who kills upon hearsay and whim, driven by revenge?” he asks.
He points his axe at the veiled one.
“A murderer.”
He charges her. His steps thunder in the dark.
At the last moment, Blackveil clicks her fingers. She disappears, but reappears almost instantly once The Judge hurtles past her position.
“At the point of balance, at the place where you expect to find utopia, there is only rot,” she says. “Those who allow evil to persist in sake of balance are just foul as those they so foolishly protect.”
“Revenge like yours is a fire that will burn the universe to ash,” The Judge says, his voice calm and deep. “A spiteful flame, punishing all for the sins of a few. It shall be extinguished.”
“Enough of this,” Blackveil says. “The scales have shown your worth once. It’s time we weigh it again.”
“Balance,” The Judge says. “I will have it.”
“You will have nothing but the sour taste of defeat, once more upon your craven tongue. The hour of reckoning is upon us.”
Click. She’s gone.
Axe in hand, The Judge stalks off toward the ring.
BLACKVEIL VS. THE JUDGE
SINGLES MATCH
The Judge looks to pass final judgement on Blackveil’s revolution as Blackveil aims to bring down this symbol of the Patriarchy!
DING! DING! The bell sounds as The Judge quickly opens a portal and steps through, re-opening it right in front of Blackveil and connects with a VERDICT! The Spartan Kick sends Blackveil into the corner hard as the Judge quickly closes distance quickly and begins to throw heavy fist after heavy fist. Blackveil suddenly disappears, from the corner.
The Judge looks around wearily, the Sisterhood at ringside making him feel uneasy. Suddenly she appears from the side, blasting the behemoth with a shotgun dropkick. The Judge staggers back as he tries to keep on his feet, but Blakveil doesn’t let up and begins attacking the Judge’s leg, trying to cut him down to size. But it only serves to enrage Judge who charges at the smaller Bride, who disappears with NOW YOU SEE ME!
Judge flies to the outside as Blackveil draws the ref’s attention away allowing the REDRESS to occur, the Sisterhood begin beating the Judge. Fist after fist, boot after boot drives into the massive frame of their “oppresser” but it doesn’t last long as the massive frame of Judge breaks through the crowd, sending several of the Sisterhood flying into the rail. Judge slides back into the ring, ANNULMENT!
NO!
He catches her foot quickly pulling the Bridezilla off balance, slamming her hard to he mat.
Judge gets to his feet and goes to stomp down on the head of Blackveil, who just gets her head out of the way. The giant bruiser doesn’t let that deter him as he stomps down on the body of Blackveil, taking some wind out of her lungs as he grabs her around the throat, lifting her up.
He tosses the smaller woman into the corner, following up quickly with a clothesline. Blackveil is dazed as she is hoisted to the top rope. Judge gets her sitting up onto his shoulders and climbs up the ropes himself, standing quickly before falling backwards. PERFECT BALANCE!
Both competitors crash to the mat with a hard thud. Judge crawls over the body of the Black Bride.
ONE!
TWO!
NO!
Blackveil is pulled out of the ring before the ref can hit three, the Sisters trying to give their leader strength. Judge is having none of it and reaches into the veiled mob outside but can’t find who he is looking for. All of a sudden Blackveil appears behind him, enraged. Before Judge can even begin to attack a mystical force grips his frame as the power overwhelms him.
THE PRICE OF LIBERTY strangles the life out of the Judge who tries his best to resist the power that the Abominable Bride has. He eventually crumbles to the mat before getting met with a vicious ANNULMENT!
Instead of going for a pin, the Bride takes another step back. ANNULMENT! Two punt kicks are delivered to the skull of The Judge.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
The Bridezilla sends a clear message to the Patriarchy that not even a Judge can stop her revolution with a big win here tonight!
“TO BE OR NOT TO BE”
BACKSTAGE
Backstage, we see Scrimshaw trying to talk to Luke Storm but outside of orders, Luke Storm is not listening.
“I don’t want to do this but listen to me, Luke.”
Luke snaps to attention and acts like a soldier. He stands upright and shouts.
“Sir, Yes, Sir!”
“Boy, I don’t like giving you orders, can’t you understand? I never wanted this, never wanted you. This is not what I wanted. All I wanted was to see a part of the world I never had. Sadly, I’ve seen people controlled like you all too many times.”
Luke Storm looks sad and downtrodden, it is the first time he felt rejection since he got cast in his first film.
“Are you saying I didn’t get the role?”
“I wish I could say that Luke, I really do.”
Monty Straight walks in with a devious smile and talks to Storm easier than Scrimshaw has ever been able to.
“To be or not to be, that is the question, isn’t it friend?”
“To be wanted by those who can’t have you or not wanted by the only one who can.”
Luke Storm’s whole life flashes by his eyes, tears drop one by one as Luke realizes every single person he cares about gone all because of one stupid script. Scrimshaw is angry for the man he has started to care deeply about.
“Can it you wicked bastard! Luke deserves more than this life you created for him. I’m going to make sure he will get it. Listen, Luke, I set you free.”
Luke nods and Scrimshaw smiles feeling like he got one over on Monty.
“People aren’t cargo mate.”
Monty holds up Storm’s contract and the words that make Storm Scrimshaw’s slave light up.
“That’s not how this works Scrimshaw. He might not be your cargo but he will forever be your crew. You might as well enjoy the new vessel.”
Monty waves goodbye as he walks towards the meat locker and opens its door.
Scrimshaw is enraged and he tackles Monty through the plastic flaps between the hall and the locker!
“Luke, this is my last command, defend your title and kick Monty’s ass!”
Luke starts stomping away at Monty when we see Veritas lying on a table bored and waiting for the match. He jumps up and starts shaking his head in anticipation!
“About time fuckers!”
STORM © VS. SCRIMSHAW VS. VERITAS VS. STRAIGHT
HOUSE RULEZ CHAMPIONSHIP
The match is starting with a brawl as these four men are fighting for the House Rulez championship in the meat locker!
DING! DING! The bell is just a formality as Scrimshaw and Luke Storm are stomping away on Monty! Veritas is standing on the table watching the beatdown but he jumps! Diving crossbody to Storm and Scrimshaw! Veritas mounts on top of Monty and starts throwing fist after fist! He is demolishing Monty’s face! Scrimshaw and Storm stand up and Scrimshaw is grinning seeing Monty get some comeuppance! It looks like Monty might be out! Veritas is reaching into Monty’s chest pocket!
HE HAS LUKE STORM’S CONTRACT!
HE TOSSES IT TO STORM!
VERITAS SHOUTS, “WHILE YOU’VE BEEN ARGUING, I’VE BEEN RESEARCHING IN A LIBRARY MONTY KNOWS TOO WELL. LET’S JUST SAY MONTY’S FORMER VICTIM LEFT SOME HINTS AND THE SHORT OF IT IS THE ONE WHO SIGNED THE CONTRACT NEEDS TO DESTROY IT!”
SCRIMSHAW SCREAMS “LUKE, TEAR IT UP!”
LUKE TRIES TO RIP IT APART BUT NOTHING IS HAPPENING!
MONTY SPEARS LUKE OUT OF NOWHERE!
“NOT LIKE THAT, FRIEND.”
Monty starts stomping away on Storm! Scrimshaw is having none of that! DRAGGED TO THE DEPTHS! Scrimshaw hits the saito suplex and drops Straight like its nothing! He’s not done! He locks in the reverse chinlock! CAPTAIN’S HOOK! He’s choking out Monty and Monty is fading! Veritas sees an opportunity! He crouches down to their level!
EYE GOUGE TO SCRIMSHAW!
SCRIMSHAW IS SCREAMING IN PAIN!
NO ONE IS HELPING HIM AS MONTY IS BARELY CONSCIOUS AND STORM IS STRUGGLING WITH THE CONTRACT!
VERITAS YELLS “USE THE HOOK!” STORM DOES NOTHING!
SCRIMSHAW REPEATS IT! THIS TIME STORM PIERCES THE CONTRACT ON THE HOOK!
THE HOOK WAS ENOUGH TO PIERCE THE CONTRACT!
Storm shakes his head like he’s woken out of a bad dream! LIGHTNING STRIKE! Superkick to Veritas breaks the eye gouge! Scrimshaw looks like he is blind and he stumbles into Storm! DOWNPOUR! He hits the codebreaker on his former master! Scrimshaw is rocked but he’s smiling! He knows if Storm can attack him, Storm is truly free! Storm turns to Monty! THUNDER! Storm hits the Moonsault on a downed Straight!
HE PULLS MONTY UP!
DOWNPOUR! HE PULLS HIM UP AGAIN!
TAKE TWO!
He hits the second codebreaker and start dragging Straight to the hook! He grabs Monty by the throat!
CHOKESLAM ON THE MEAT HOOK!
THE HOOK PIERCES MONTY’S SHOULDER!
HIS BLOOD IS DRENCHING STORM’S OLD CONTRACT!
STORM CRANKS UP THE HOOK TO RAISE MONTY TO THE CEILING!
HE DOES IT!
MONTY’S CRANKED ALL THE WAY UP!
What a win for Storm as he not only retains his championship, he wins his freedom!
“THEIR USES”
SOMEWHERE ELSE
Inside a darkened room, the glow of a familiar monitor illuminates the disgruntled face of The Butcher – who sits with his armed folded in front of the glitching monitor.
Static again appears, accompanied by the distorted voice.
“We need to use our resources,” it says. “Starting with Greene.”
The Butcher nods in agreement.
“He can financially secure our search of locations Alpha, Bravo, Charlie and Delta,” he demands. “And supply the right teams. These are costly.”
“Archaeological digs usually are,” The Butcher responds. “And what do I tell him about the item we’re looking for? He’s an industrious if not sceptical man when uninformed.”
There’s a pause.
“Only what he needs to know,” the voice reminds him. “As for Darby Sorrow, we must take a different path with him.”
“I don’t understand what he brings us,” The Butcher says with a shrug, rubbing his chin. “His immortality doesn’t help.”
“But it does,” it responds quickly. “Darby was a man, like any other, in 1923. His immortality was attained at his current age, not that he wants anyone to know it. He hasn’t aged a day since.”
That shocks The Butcher, whose eyes widen.
“He’s over a hundred years old?” The Chairman asks, mouth agape.
“He is and he was involved in the experiment that brought about the notion and creation of what we’re looking for,” the distorted voice says with conviction. “He just doesn’t remember.”
The Butcher nods.
“I can handle that,” he says with a smile.
“No, not like that you can’t. He must be taken to a specialist, someone unusual, who’ll be able to enter his mind and force him to remember what we need. It’s an intrusive and painful procedure,” the voice says with no remorse. “And it’s likely that he won’t remain on side after.”
There’s a pause.
“You must get him there.”
Cut.
X © VS. MARK GOULDERN VS. ALTON WHITLOCK
SLAUGHTERHOUSE CHAMPIONSHIP
DING! DING! It is X and Whitlock who take up the early action, as Gouldern simply steps back and watches from the corner. X closes the gap on the Candidate, using his martial arts prowess to slink through Whitlock’s defences with an ELBOW STRIKE! Whitlock staggers and X NAILS HIM WITH A SWINGING BIONIC ELBOW!
HE LOCKS IN A COLLAR TIE AND BARRAGES ALTON WHITLOCK WITH A STORM OF KNEE STRIKES RIGHT TO THE RIBS!
When X lets go, Whitlock falls backwards, gasping for air. X closes in again but Whitlock is gone, out of the ring. Gouldern barks at X to go after him and the Lethal Weapon obliges, stepping onto the ring apron. DOUBLE AXE HANDLE FROM X… NO! WHITLOCK CATCHES HIM AS HE FALLS AND SWINGS HIM INTO A SPINEBUSTER OUTSIDE THE RING!
FLYING ELBOW FROM GOULDERN OFF THE RING APRON TAKES OUT WHITLOCK!
WHITLOCK CAN’T GET A HEAD OF STEAM UP HERE TONIGHT!
The Herald of the Future helps X to his feet first, then the pair pick up Whitlock’s frame. DOUBLE TEAM! DOUBLE SUPLEX INTO THE CROWD BARRICADE!
Whitlock is rolled back into the ring by Mark Gouldern and the pair follow in after. Gouldern takes up his position at the ring ropes once more and orders X to ‘TAKE HIM OUT!’
X obliges by pulling a kneeling Whitlock to his feet and grabbing his neck. VERTICAL KNEE STRIKE! ALTON FLAILS BACKWARDS INTO THE TURNBUCKLE TO WHERE GOULDERN WAITS!
SITOUT FACEBUSTER TO WHITLOCK!
THIS IS A FLAT OUT HANDICAP MATCH! ALTON WHITLOCK IS GETTING HAMMERED!
Gouldern wipes his brow and directs X toward the body of Alton Whitlock. He pulls The Candidate to his feet and locks him up into a Half Nelson, locked in by his bionic arm. Gouldern winds up…
THE DISRUPTION!
WHAT?!
…
WHITLOCK MANAGES TO ESCAPE THE HOLD AND GOULDERN JUST FLOORED X!
THERE’S SOME LIFE IN WHITLOCK YET!
Mark Gouldern cannot believe it. He’s just taken out his muscle inadvertently, and now he’s got to seal the deal alone. Whitlock is still recovering, scrambling to find the ring ropes. The Invasion Winner grabs him by the leg and pulls him back toward the middle of the ring.
RUTHLESS INSPIRATION!
HE’S GOT THE HOLD LOCKED IN AND LOOKING FOR THE SUBMISSION!
WHITLOCK LOOKS LIKE HE’S ON THE EDGE!
AGONY ON HIS FACE, HE’S GOING TO TAP!
NO! HE TURNS HIMSELF OVER AND KICKS GOULDERN OFF HIM!
Both men stagger to their feet simultaneously. Whitlock is fighting on fumes and swings wildly, narrowly missing Gouldern. The Herald follows with a Clothesline that Whitlock manages to duck under.
BLUE THUNDER BOMB DRILLS GOULDERN!
HE PUNCTUATES AN EXCLAMATION MARK THERE… HE’S STILL IN THIS!
Whitlock rallies the crowd behind him. He turns to the people and pumps them up with a fist above his head, but the pain on his face is clear. With momentum on his side and fumes in the tank, he runs the ropes and hits The Herald of the Future on the rebound.
PARTY POLITICS! THE OVERDRIVE NECKBREAKER TAKES GOULDERN OUT!
BAM!
HE’S INSTANTLY CUT DOWN WITH A CHOP BLOCK FROM NOWHERE!
X is back and he’s looking as menacing as ever. A clubbing blow to the back of the head takes Whitlock down to the mat and X follows up with a series of stomps that seem destined to drive him through the mat. With Whitlock sufficiently tenderised, he swoops in to take full advantage.
REAR CHOKE!
HE’S USING THAT BIONIC ARM RIGHT UNDER THE TRACHEA!
ALTON WHITLOCK IS TURNING PURPLE BUT HE WON’T QUIT!
The Candidate continues to fight, pulling himself up at the ropes with X still on his back. He drops himself and X to the ground in a BACKPACK STUNNER! JUST ENOUGH TO GIVE HIM A SMALL WINDOW!
BUT IT CLOSES AS SOON AS IT OPENS!
By the time he managed to clamber back to his feet, Gouldern is waiting. Then X is as well. All three men meet in the centre of the ring, and two of them have their eyes on Whitlock.
The Candidate takes a swing at Gouldern and catches him with a beauty of a hook right on the button, but X rings his bell instantly after the strike lands with an uppercut of his own that sends Whitlock reeling.
BOTH MEN CLOSE IN ON ALTON WHITLOCK AGAIN!
X holds Whitlock by the legs and Gouldern grabs him by the head…
ASSISTED PLANNED OBSOLESCENCE! X HELD HIM UP SO THAT GOULDERN COULD TAKE HIM OUT!
WHITLOCK IS DOWN!
GOULDERN SMIRKS AS HE HOOKS THE LEG FOR THE COVER!
ONE!
…
WHAT?!
X PULLS GOULDERN OFF!
HE HELPED HIM TAKE OUT WHITLOCK BUT HE’S NOT GIVING HIM THE MATCH!
Both men stand toe to toe and neither one looks happy. There’s pushing. There’s shoving.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
DOUBLE SUPERMAN PUNCH!
DISRUPTION MEETS EXECUTION!
GAUNTLET MEETS BIONIC ARM!
BOTH MEN ARE OUT!
ALL THREE MEN ARE DOWN AND NOBODY IS STIRRING!
Somehow, someway… After everything he’s gone through, it is Alton Whitlock who is first to his feet. He surveys the destruction before him, unsure of how both his opponents are laid out before him. Nevertheless, he hooks up Gouldern for the pin.
ONE!
…
TWO!
…
HE COULD DO THIS?!
TWO AND A HALF!
GOULDERN AND X COULD JUST HAVE COST EACH OTHER THE MATCH AND HANDED THE TITLE TO WHITLOCK!
…
THR…NO! KICK OUT!
Mark Gouldern manages to kick out but The Candidate isn’t finished with him. Whitlock lifts Mark Gouldern up onto his shoulders! He’s got the SNAP ELECTION LINED UP!
He panders to the crowd, ready to seal the deal. He’s been through hell to get here, but Alton Whitlock is finally sitting pretty and looking to SEND GOULDERN TO HELL!
BABOOM!
WHAT THE HELL?!
OUT OF FUCKING NOWHERE!
WHITLOCK DROPS LIKE A SACK OF POTATOES IN AN IRISH KITCHEN!
X NAILS ALTON WHITLOCK WITH HIS PATENTED PUNCH! EXECUTION!
From atop his human tower, Mark Gouldern is hurled out of the ring in the process and bounces hard at ringside. X doesn’t beat around the bush. He covers for the pin to claim back his Championship!
ONE!
…
TWO!
…
…
THREE!
X HAS DONE IT! STILLLL YOUR SLAUGHTERHOUSE CHAMPION… X!
After everything, the deals and the two on one battle, it is X… Not Gouldern who stands tall tonight. Ultimately, the numbers game didn’t work out for Whitlock and it is X who walks way, retaining his own Slaughterhouse Championship!
“PARANOIA”
BACKSTAGE
Ever since he received that video, Redwing has found himself a little more paranoid; a little more volatile and tonight, he snapped. He walks the halls of Old School Wrestling with one eye on every person he comes across, a purpose now in his heart.
Someone here killed his family.
He must find out who.
As he enters a hallway backstage, the lights suddenly begin to flicker.
The doors sound like they lock at either side of the hall.
“He’s watching you,” a voice whispers.
Redwing clutches at his mask, at his head, his face shuddering with every softly spoken word.
“Enough,” he pleads. “Enough of this.”
“He’s here, roaming these halls. He took everything from you. Are you just going to accept it, like the coward you truly are?”
He falls to his knees, clutching at his mask until it feels as if its suffocating him. That’s when he rips it off, tossing it across the floor.
His eyes are squeezed shut, his breathing his heavy, almost panting.
And then calm.
Carefully he opens his eyes to see that the lights are normal.
There’s no voices.
No nothing.
He stands up, reaching for his mask. He takes a deep breath and walks towards the door at the far end of the hall, expecting it to be locked.
It isn’t.
Perplexed, Redwing takes another deep breath and walks away; his mask dangling from his hand.
Cut.
“END OF THE LINE”
BACKSTAGE
Pacing the backstage area, Alton Whitlock appears to be waiting for an extremely important phone call. He keeps checking his cell, his eyes locked on the screen until it finally lights up.
Without hesitation, he answers.
“Tell me you have good news, Steven,” he pleads. “I need good news.”
The voice responds, in detail, and with every word spoken that we cannot hear, Alton Whitlock’s face drops just a little bit more.
Until he’s a ghostly white.
All the colour having left his body.
His hands begin to shake, his eyes begin to well; whatever he’s being told is breaking this great man before our very eyes.
“There… there has to be something we can do,” he whimpers, wiping his face in distress. “My stay here depends on it. I have to find the person responsible for slashing my face. I know it has taken its toll, but there’s nothing more important.”
There’s a pause whilst the person retorts. He sighs, closing his eyes.
“I know, I know,” he says with sorrow, shaking his head. “It’s over, isn’t it? Everything.”
Another pause.
“I’ll settle whatever’s left of my affairs here and catch the next flight out,” Whitlock bemoans, grimacing. “Unless you have an alternative solution?”
His eyes widen at the suggestion given to him.
“I can do that.”
Cut.
DARBY SORROW © VS. BEG VS. BANZAN
WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH
Ladies and gentlemen, this is the main event of the evening! Darby Sorrow’s world championship is on the line against a hungry BEG and the man who wants the title back, Banzan! Can Darby hold on the title as well as he can hold on to life? We find out now!
DING! DING! BEG and Darby charge Banzan! They want to take out the mountain first! Darby hits rapid leg kicks and BEG with some solid body punches! Banzan is just breathing taking these shots like they’re nothing! He finally gets annoyed with the strikes and just chops the throats of both men! BEG is hunched over holding his throat but Darby doesn’t bother! He runs and jumps off BEG’s back hitting Banzan with a flying knee!
BANZAN IS ROCKED AND HE IS AGAINST THE ROPES!
DARBY ROLLS AND HITS A LEAPING CLOTHESLINE!
SORROWFUL LIFE!
THE FORCE OF THAT CLOTHESLINE SENDS BOTH MEN OVER THE ROPES!
BEG RUNS TOWARDS THE ROPES FOR A SUICIDE DIVE!
HE STOPS BEFORE HE JUMPS AND POINTS TO HIS HEAD SAYING HE’S SMARTER THAN THAT!
BEG is content to let the other two men fight and that’s exactly what they do! Before they can even get to their feet, Darby is throwing crazy fists at Banzan and before Banzan can get up, Darby grabs his shovel and drops Banzan with a hard swing! He slides into the ring with the shovel but BEG was waiting for that and levels Darby with a punt kick!
BEG IS READY TO END THIS!
HE RUNS HIS THUMB AGAINST HIS NECK AND LOCKS DARBY IN A CRIPPLER CROSSFACE!
DARBY IS TRYING TO CRAWL TO THE ROPES BUT IT LOOKS LIKE HE MIGHT TAP OUT ANY TIME!
BANZAN IS IN THE RING NOW!
HE HAS THE STEEL STEPS AND HE DROPS THEM ON BEG’S SPINE!
BEG IS FORCED TO LET GO AND THE MATCH CONTINUES!
Darby gets out from under Beg but Banzan swings the steps at Darby now! Darby slides under them and bounces off the ropes! He’s charging at Banzan who swings the steps at Darby again! Darby jumps against them and hits a backflip stomp onto a prone BEG! Darby charges Banzan again and dropkicks the steps! Banzan is backed into the corner and drops the steps! Darby runs and launches himself off the steps!
JUMPING CLOTHESLINE!
NO! BANZAN CATCHES HIM WITH A ROUND KICK STRAIGHT TO THE SKULL!
DARBY LANDS HARD ON THE STEPS!
DARBY IS PULLING HIMSELF BUT BANZAN RUSHES HIM AND HITS THE KINSHASA KNEE!
MAGGA!
BANZAN COVERS!
ONE!
. . .
TWO!
. . .
NO! BEG BREAKS IT UP!
Banzan starts to march towards BEG. Beg laughs and asks, “Why are you so pissed? Life is suffering, right?” Banzan looks enraged and starts hitting a flurry of chest kicks! New welts develop with each strike! Banzan goes for a final one but Beg catches the leg and locks in a heel hook!
WHEN OPPORTUNITY STRIKES!
BEG IS WRENCHING THE HEEL WITH FULL FORCE AND BANZAN IS TRYING TO FIGHT IT OFF!
IT’S TO NO AVAIL AND BANZAN LOOKS LIKE HE IS GOING TO PASS OUT DUE TO THE PAIN!
NO! COFFIN DROP OUT OF NOWHERE BREAKS THE HOLD!
DARBY HITS A PRONE BEG AND MAKES THE COVER!
ONE!
. . .
TWO!
. . .
. . .
NO! MICKEY MCGUINESS BREAKS THE PIN FOR HIS BOSS!
Mickey doesn’t stop with the break and he starts dropping hammer fist after fist to Darby! Darby is blocking the punches but Mickey is getting some good shots in! They don’t last long though! Banzan levels Mickey with MAGGA! Another Kinshasa knee knocks Mickey out cold! Banzan gets to a corner waiting for his first opponent to start getting up so he can hit another one!
DARBY IS THE FIRST TO START GETTING UP!
BANZAN CHARGES WITH THE KNEE STRIKE BUT DARBY GRABS HIS SHOVEL AND BLOCKS THE KNEE!
BANZAN DROPS HARD AND CLUTCHES HIS KNEE! IT MIGHT BE SHATTERED!
DARBY GOES TO THE TOP ROPE!
HE’S GOING FOR THE COFFIN DROP BUT BEG JUMPS INTO THE ROPES!
DARBY LOSES BALANCE AND CROTCHES HIMSELF!
BEG GRABS DARBY BY THE HEAD AND DROPS HIM WITH A DDT!
DARBY IS SPIKED AND BEG COVERS!
ONE!
. . .
TWO!
. . .
. . .
THREE!
Beg is our new world champion! What a win over two now former world champs!
NO! DARBY GOT HIS FOOT ON THE ROPES! THIS MATCH CONTINUES!
BEG is enraged and starts stomping away on Darby! He is pissed and he has tunnel vision on destroying Darby! He doesn’t see Banzan right behind him! DUKKHA! Banzan hits the saito suplex and backs into the corner! He’s waiting for his first opponent to get up!
DARBY IS GETTING UP FIRST!
BANZAN IS GOING FOR ANOTHER KINSHASA!
HE CHARGES BUT HIS KNEE GOES OUT!
HE CAN BARELY PUT ANY WEIGHT ON IT!
HE DOESN’T SEE DARBY BOUNCING OFF THE ROPES!
SPRINGBOARD COFFIN DROP!
BEG TOSSES DARBY THROUGH THE ROPES!
BEG COVERS BANZAN!
ONE!
. . .
TWO!
. . .
. . .
BANZAN GETS HIS SHOULDER UP!
BEG is pissed and grabs his cane! He removes the top of it! We see the blade! He reaches high and slams it down with enough force to not only pierce Banzan’s knee but to pin that knee to the mat! Banzan can’t get up and BEG’s mouth is drooling thinking of what he can do!
HE LOCKS IN AN ANKLE LOCK!
WITH EVERY PULL, IT’S TEARING BANZAN’S KNEE APART MORE!
HIS BLOOD IS DRIPPING AFTER EVERY WRENCH OR PULL!
BANZAN SHOULD BE TAPPING OUT BUT HE’S MEDITATING TO CONTROL THE PAIN!
BEG is getting more pissed after every wrench! The wrenches and pulls are getting more desperate and he is destroying the knee! He wants that gold badly!
HE DOESN’T NOTICE DARBY CLIMBING TO THE TOP ROPE!
COFFIN DROP TO BANZAN!
NO! BANZAN CATCHES DARBY MIDAIR AND TOSSES HIM AT BEG TO BREAK THE HOLD!
BANZAN YANKS HIS LEG UPWARDS TO GET UP!
HIS KNEE IS DESTROYED BUT HE CONTINUES ON!
HE PULLS BEG IN AND LOCKS IN THE SHINING TRIANGLE CHOKE!
SAMUDAYA!
BEG IS TRYING TO FIGHT IT OFF BUT HE’S FORCED TO TAP!
Banzan has done it! He fought against two very game opponents in Darby Sorrow and BEG and he is now a multi-time world champion!
“DRAG EM’ TO HELL”
RINGSIDE
With that amazing match over, Darby Sorrow gets back to his feet, looking exhausted. He put everything into this match tonight, his feud with Berkshire Ellison Greene a long time coming.
Suddenly, the lights malfunction.
They turn red and black.
Sorrow doesn’t know what to do.
Suddenly, something bursts through the ring violently.
As canvas sheds in every direction, we see that it’s a man, wearing a large white lab coat. He reaches out for the throat of Darby Sorrow, pulling him down into the canvas with him.
The Gravedigger kicks and screams, trying valiantly to stop this attack, but he’s unable.
He’s being DRAGGED TO HELL!
The Doctor pulls a large needle with what appears to be black serum from his jacket pocket, violently ramming it into Sorrow’s neck.
He almost immediately goes limp.
The fans are dead silent, absolutely terrified.
The Doctor, with his aged, scarred and wrinkly face now on display, smiles a sadistic and toothy smile.
A horrifying laugh echoes throughout the building.
The lights malfunction once again.
And they’re gone.
A hole in the canvas remains, large and open, with claw marks stretching across it from where Darby Sorrow tried desperately to hold on.
Berkshire Ellison Greene looks on in terror, crawling carefully towards the hole to investigate.
He looks down into it.
WHOOSH!
Fire suddenly explodes, barely missing his face as it engulfs the hole where Darby Sorrow was dragged into oblivion.
Greene falls backwards, gulping.
What the hell is going on?
Cut.