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OCTANE #213 – UNLUCKY 13

HAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA
SOMEWHERE ELSE

Click.

Static covers the screen as a Play ► symbol appears in the bottom right-hand corner.

The Emporium.

Doctor D’Ville, SeeSaw and The Blood Red Shark are trundling down the halls of the Emporium, heading towards the cells. D’Ville walks centrally, flanked by his two warriors.

“Now listen,” he says, stopping both men before they enter the cells. “Edward is not the man you once knew. He would’ve changed drastically. There’s no telling what we’ll find inside here.”

“I just can’t wait to play with him, daddy,” SeeSaw says gleefully.

“Will he be ready for Chain Reaction?” Shark says sternly. “We need to assemble our team. We’ve yet to meet with Sandman either.”

D’Ville nods, opening the cell door.

“All in good…”

He stops abruptly.

His eyes dart around the room. D’Ville becomes frantic, immediately flanked by his associates.

Edward Newton is no-where to be seen.

He’s gone.

D’Ville stops at a wall, looking at the writing scrawled across it in blood.

HahAHAHAHAahahahaha

He gulps.

“Where’s he gone?” SeeSaw questions, looking around the room. “Daddy, did you let him go?”

“He’s escaped,” Sharkman interrupts.

Doc takes a minute, thinking about it.

“We’re going to need to find him and fast. My tonic will have a profound effect on him. He may not be ready to be released.”

“Mr. Sandman could track him down,” Shark says eagerly. “I’d be interested to see that in action.”

“Absolutely not,” D’Ville barks. “That could be catastrophic. No-one should be inside the mind of The Riddler,” he continues. “Especially not after what I’ve done to it.”

Cut.

A DIVISION
BACKSTAGE

Voynich.

The archaeologist sits calmly in one of the Slaughterhouse’s many locker rooms, a well worn history book in hand. He scribbles notes in the margins, stuck in his own little world until light appears behind him, a portal opening up and Sigil walking through. He exits with grace, placing a hand on Voynich’s shoulder.

“Voynich, correct?”

The Best Kept Secret nods his head, closing his book and standing up to meet Sigil eye to eye.

“May I ask why you’re looking for me?”

Sigil merely chuckles, shaking his head.

“No particular reason, you just happened to be here at the same time I decided to arrive. Though I will say I’ve kept my eyes on you. I have a bit of respect for a fellow collector in this world.”

Voynich looks to reply but a knocking on the door frame causes both men to look that way, Luke Storm standing in the doorway, a scowl on his face as his eyes land on Sigil Storm walks forward, ignoring Sigil as best he can as he speaks to Voynich.

“Hey, kid. I just came to pop by and talk to you about our tag match later.”

Storm looks dead serious as he speaks, taking off his glasses and placing them on the collar of his shirt.

“This guy, Plant. We need a strategy against him, work together to take him down since it’s two on one.”

“Looking to make him your pawn, Lucas?”

Storm side eyes Sigil, turning towards him and jabbing a finger into his chest.

“You got a lot of nerve talking about pawns when you have four of them at your beck and call. What the hell are you trying to say about me?”

Sigil shoves Luke back, animosity in his voice as he replies.

“I’m just warning Voynich that maybe you aren’t trustworthy. Not too big a fan of the truth, are you?”

Voynich isn’t sure what to do as Storm and Sigil get closer, practically nose to nose. Luke’s fist clenches and just as he goes to swing a fourth voice permeates the air and draws their attention.

“Stop. Now.”

Sweet Alice. The Dreamer has arrived on the scene, actively moving forward and prying Sigil and Storm apart.

“Voynich, Storm, go and talk about your match, I need to speak to Sigil.”

Luke takes a moment to go, still sneering at Sigil as he and Voynich vacate the room. As soon as the door closes behind them Alice turns back to Sigil, shaking her head.

“Now isn’t the time to be starting fights.”

“And who are you to tell me what to do, Alice?”

The girl looks up at Sigil, not replying for a moment before sighing.

“The voice of reason. Banzan was attacked earlier. The IWF is trying its best to destroy us and if you keep old grudges now then when we’re most divided they’ll take their chance and conquer us.”

Sigil is silent for a few moments before looking at the door Luke just walked out of.

“Fine. But once IWF is dealt with you should consider staying out of my personal matters.”

“Deal.”

The duo takes their leave, the scene fading out.

Cut.

BISHOP VS. KORRA VS. REDWING
TRIPLE THREAT MATCH

Three stars go head to head tonight for a chance to rise ahead in the rankings. Will the hero shine true, will the outlaw unleash his fury or will the underdog slip through the snow and steal her first victory?

The bell sounds as Bishop rushes forward, nearly decapitating Korra with a massive Lariat that sends her spinning inside out in mid-air before crashing down hard on the canvas. The Outlaw quickly pulls her up, lifting her up high before POWERBOMBING HER OVER THE ROPES TO THE OUTSIDE! Korra lands hard and damn near broken as Bishop just cracks his neck, before he gets spun around

GODWATCH! The Ripcord Knee hits flush before he’s lifted high into the air, RED JUSTICE! Bishop’s head gets snapped over Redwing’s knee with that brainbuster as he covers, ONE…TWO…KICK OUT! Redwing pulls Bishop up, trying to whip him into the corner but gets reversed as the Red Knight hits hard on the metal before a big Lariat crushes his throat. Stunned, Redwing can’t fight back as he’s lifted up and dropped face first onto the steel buckle with Snake Eyes before Bishop lines up the CROSSHAIRS with a massive Big Boot.

Bishop signals for the end as he goes to pull Redwing up to his feet but gets kicked low by Korra who sneaks into the ring, before grabbing the rising Redwing and drilling him into the mat with a lighting fast CLIFFHANGER DDT! Korra doesn’t cover straight away, turning to Bishop as she tries to hit one on him but a stiff headbutt rocks her before she’s lifted up off her feet and spiked down with the LAST RITES! Bishop quickly covers for the ONE…TWO…THREE!!!

The Outlaw picks up a huge victory here tonight but from the look in his eyes, the fury he’s held back over the last few weeks is far from sated.

YOUR ENEMY I
SOMEWHERE ELSE

Alton Whitlock has been watching the crowd grow in the shadow of Telegon Towers for nearly an hour now. Several members of his staff surround him as he calmly sips a cup of coffee, looking up at the top-floor corner office where he knows The Herald of The Future is perched, looking down at him.

A staffer nods at Whitlock. It’s time.

The team walks together toward a rudimentary camera setup. Whitlock is framed against his wide array of supporters, most of them holding signs decrying Mark Gouldern and the Telegon empire.

Whitlock smiles at the camera and begins his speech.

“Mark Gouldern wants you to believe he’s your friend.”

“He and his multi-billion dollar marketing department want you to believe that his goal is to improve your life. They want you to think he’s trying to help humankind.”

“He’s not.”

“He’s only trying to help himself.”

“He’s your enemy–not your…”

Something unseen catches Whitlock’s eye. To the viewers on the livestream, it’s plain to see he’s caught off guard, shocked. He peers out of frame. Then he turns entirely. He’s staring at something.

The cameraman, not knowing what to do, turns the camera to match Whitlock’s gaze.

Hundreds–no, thousands of black-shrouded figures are marching down the wide city avenue.

Each and every one wears a Guy Fawkes mask.

They’re completely silent.

A low murmur rises among Whitlock’s supporters as the Anonymous horde draws closer.

Whitlock turns to look at the camera, and he’s about to say something when…

WHIRRRRRR.

THUMP.

THUMP.

THUMP.

The cameraman, obviously panicked, abruptly pans back to Telegon Towers…

Where the very walls of the huge structure have opened up.

And three massive, vaguely humanoid mechs are crunching out of them.

Mark Gouldern himself appears next, walking rapidly on foot and wearing a black suit, his gauntlet glowing on his wrist, flanked by just two security guards.

He’s smirking.

Cut.

ARBITER
SOMEWHERE ELSE

Inside the Butcher’s office, a table that would otherwise look fancy if not covered in a thick layer of grime sits at the centre. Around it, three chairs.

Redwing sits in one.

A slender figured balding man with horn-rimmed glasses sits at a second, he places a briefcase on the table and clicks the locks open.

Luke Storm sits in the third.

“Thank you gentlemen for being here. I am here to see if we can come to a peaceful resolution to our issues. It is important that you each are heard and that you each listen carefully to what the other has to say.”

Both men are silent, glaring at one another.

“Redwing. Why don’t you start us off?”

Redwing draws a deep breath first.

“I own my actions. The actions of my own hands. But what I do not own is the intention behind those actions. I have come to learn that I was used. Used by your own brother.

You have to see that he has been, has always been, the manipulator behind everything that has come your way.”

Luke doesn’t say anything, but based on the look on his face, he doesn’t believe a word of it. Redwing pleads.

“He toyed with us both, Luke. For me, it was a serum. It twisted my mind, made me see things and believe things that were…”

His voice trails off.

“… For you, it was Scarlett.”

Luke bursts out at this point.

“Don’t you even utter her name. Not after what you did to her, to me. Not after everything you put us through. You ruined our happily ever after.”

“She was a pawn, Luke. A pawn in a devious game of chess mastermineded by her own uncle.”

Luke stands up, seething.

“If that is all you have come here to say, that none of this is your fault, then I’m wasting my time as much as I thought.”

The arbiter makes a small noise at this point. Inconspicuous, but enough to capture attention.

“Gentlemen, take a breath. Calm down. We are not here to fling accusations.”

The tone of his voice has changed, more forceful now. Both men take a moment before the arbiter continues.

“Redwing. Can you tell us how you feel when you look at Luke?”

“I feel…” He doesn’t finish the sentence. “I can’t help feeling anguish, pain and grief when I look at you. Every time I look at you, I can’t help feeling that you killed my family…”

“You son of a bitch!”

Luke stands once more, reddening with more anger. Redwing rises to meet him.

“In my mind, I know that you didn’t. Another one of your brother’s little tricks was to implant that vision. But a vision so vivid that part of me believes it each and every time I look at your face. And a part of me… A deep, dark part of me… Wants to strangle you.”

The arbiter looks somewhat shocked.

“Now gentlemen, these emotions are getting a little…”

“Well, take your shot then Kirby. I’m standing right here.”

Redwing’s eyes seeth with anger.

“You have to understand how hard it is to see another man kill your wife and children, then to see him holding that Championship belt. It does things to a man’s mind, drags up feelings of anger that cannot be controlled.”

But Storm is done talking. He glares right into the eyes of his foe. And Redwing glares back. Neither man wants to give an inch.

BAM!

BOTH STORM AND REDWING SNAP SIMULTENOUSLY! LEFT AND RIGHT STRIKES THAT ROCK THE OTHER MAN TO THE CORE!

LUKE STORM CATCHES REDWING WITH A RIGHT UPPERCUT THAT SENDS HIM SPRAWLING ONTO THE BUTCHER’S DESK!

The Arbiter ducks for cover under the desk, knowing that his little session has gone all the way to hell.

BAM!

REDWING SLAMS STORM WITH THE ARBITER’S BRIEFCASE!

HE STANDS UP, LOOKING FOR ANOTHER BLOW!

SMACK!

LIGHTNING STRIKESLAMS THE BRIEFCASE RIGHT INTO REDWING’S SKULL!

HE GOES DOWN HARD AND LUKE MOUNTS HIM, PUMMELING HIM TO UNCONSCIOUSNESS WITH CLUBBING BLOWS!

Finally, Luke Storm stands up, turns and walks out of the office, slamming the door shut behind him. He leaves behind a trail of destruction and one arbiter, quivering under the table hoping that the storm has passed.

Cut.

JUNKRAT, MOIRAI & MARK GOULDERN VS. SIGIL, SEESAW & PYRE
TRIOS MATCH

Truly a mixture of combustible elements on display in this trios bout as Junkrat, Moirai and Mark Gouldern take on Sigil, SeeSaw, and Pyre!

Moirai and Pyre start things off as Moirai unloads a flurry of offense, only for Pyre to fire back with some hard strikes to bring things back to her advantage. Pyre goes for the Awakening, but Moirai slips out to make a tag to a very eager, very excited Junkrat!

Junkrat charges at the Fire Witch, looking to set off a spark as he lays in some hard lefts and rights before jawing off at Sigil and SeeSaw on the apron…which gives Pyre an opening to knock the master exploder down with a roundhouse kick and a tag to SeeSaw!

SeeSaw’s eager to play as he goes to work on Junkrat with some strong kicks before lifting him up…ROCK-A-BYE! Junkrat goes down hard as SeeSaw goes for a pin…but Gouldern stops the pin at one! This brings in Sigil, which leads to a big brawl between all of the competitors!

The chaos boils back down as we see Junkrat manage to get a tag to Gouldern as SeeSaw getting a tag to Sigil! The two trade blows until Gouldern gets the upper hand, sending Sigil to the ropes…DISRUPTION! Gouldern’s TeleGauntlet came in handy as he gets the cover…ONE! TWO! THREE!

Out of the chaos, the Herald of the Future leads the charge as Mark Gouldern, Junkrat, and Moirai pick up a big win tonight!

BLOOD ON THE WALLS
BACKSTAGE

Malice.

He stalks through the hallways like a man on a mission.

Slaughterhouse staff clear out of the way as he marches past them, knowing if they don’t, they’ll be run over.

He’s that focused.

Finally he arrives at a locker room door, “War Machine” labelled on it.

He swings the door open.

“Yo Bishop, it’s time to kick Thom’s…”

He trails off.

For in the middle of the locker room floor lies Bishop.

Bloody.

Bruised.

Broken.

He’s been beaten to a fucking pulp.

Blood is splattered all over the floor and walls like a fucking murder scene.

Malice’s eyes widen, his jaw drops so hard it almost hits the floor.

Painted on the wall in blood, it says:

“Give up bitch.”

Malice snarls.

He moves quickly and drops to a knee, checks Malice for a pulse.

Stable.

In fact, he quickly realizes that despite Bishop’s bloodied face, all the blood in the locker room can’t possibly belong to Malice.

The amount of blood in the locker room would leave a body drained completely.

Who does all this blood belong to?

A lump forms in Malice’s throat.

He quickly stands and reaches in his pocket, pulls out his cellphone, makes a call.

“Come on babe,” Malice says. “Answer the phone. Please, answer the phone.”

Cut.

FATHERS AND SONS
BACKSTAGE

In their own corner of the Slaughterhouse, we catch up with Brent Kersh and Jessie Williams. They’re mid-conversation, but we’re about to get the important parts.

“…I’m not joking, kid. That Ducksworth lady was missing a hand.” Kersh says. “And she said she knew me…”

“Mia Allen.” Jessie finishes the thought. “Somehow, someway, that woman is the same one we’ve been hunting. Sandy put her right under my nose, showed me the truth, but I couldn’t see it.”

Kersh nods.

“I think you’re right.” The Enforcer says before getting a stern look on his face. “Maybe this one is too mu…”

Jessie cuts him off with uncharacteristic anger.

“Sandman killed my uncle.” The Prince says, his finger pointed into Brent’s chest. “Matthew Cories died because of this. Because of me…”

Brent’s eyes cloud over for a moment.

FLASH

Afterburn #2.

The Scarecrow with his hand wrapped around Matthew Cories throat.

“Why don’t you fight someone who will fight back?” Kersh’s voice calls.

FLASH

“…and I’ll bet everything I have that Rogers, Sandman, whatever this guy is, knows where my father is. Mia didn’t have the book. Dad didn’t have the book, so now he’s coming after me.”

Kersh tries to interject, but Williams pushes into his chest with his finger.

“I’m going to avenge my dad, goddammit.”

Brent shakes his head, memories flooding his mind.

FLASH

VHS #19.

Brent Kersh stands in the morgue, looking into the dead face of his son Trevor.

“I failed, my son. I failed you.”

Kersh’s resolve grows just as Trevor’s face mutates…

“But I won’t leave your side now. I promise.”

..into the face of Tank Kersh.

FLASH

Kersh is snapped out of his memories as he notices the pair isn’t alone.

Moirai.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jessie says, squaring up. Kersh places a hand on the young man’s shoulder.

“I invited her.” Kersh says. “Vengeance can wait, kid. We’ve got more immediate problems right now.”

The tension starts to lessen as Moirai suddenly looks up, her brow furrowing.

“What’s u…” Kersh begins.

“Something approaches.” Moirai says.

Cut.

MALICE © VS. THE REAPER
VHS CHAMPIONSHIP

Which man is bound for glory!?

Laughing at their heavy leather restraint, Malice—defending Champion—charges at Reaper. The Harvester, however, ducks a BUCKSHOT gore! He wraps the strap around Malice’s throat and pulls it tight! The Michigan Mauler’s eyes bulge in their sockets as he claws the air. His mask gives him room to breathe, though, and he pancakes Reaper in the corner!

He pulls him out – right into the GRAVEDIGGER lariat! Malice drags Reaper’s carcass and slaps the top turnbuckles. ONE… TWO… TH—Reaper yanks him backwards! JUSTICE BROUGHT – Samoan drop! The avenger hauls 295 pounds of deadweight as he hits the pads. ONE… TWO… THREE… FO—Malice jerks him back! BUCKSHOT! He cuts him in half with the gore!

Malice knows better than to leave a man for dead; you have to finish it yourself. CRACK! He tans Reaper’s hide with the strap! SNAP! His skin blisters and peels as the strap cuts into him! The Harvester rolls onto his back… Using the strap to sweep Malice’s legs! SMACK! Reaper takes his turn to brand the Mauler!

Reaper whips the legs of Malice, reaggravating old war wounds! The marine tries to stand but stumbles into the referee. With the official disoriented, Malice tugs the strap into Reaper’s nethers – low-blow! Malice heaves him up in the torture rack—but Reaper escapes MALICIOUS INTENT! Nursing his boys with one hand, he fires a SHOTGUN BLAST with the other! He takes the lap – ONE… TWO… THREE… FOUR!

NEW Champion!

STORIES FROM THE SANCTUARY
SOMEWHERE ELSE

In the middle of what looks like an abandoned building in the middle of no-where, Rain stands in the darkness, under a solitary light, awaiting a very special guest.

Mr. Sandman.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d come,” Rain growls, stepping forward to be toe to toe with another terrifying monster.

“I have no interest in your wars,” Sandman replies. “And curiosity had the better of me.”

Rain folds his arms.

“I’d like you to have an interest in our wars,” Rain says with a stern expression. “In fact, I’d like you to turn your back on OSW and join the IWF. We’ve come to end this place and with someone like you by our side, we might just be unstoppable.”

Mr. Sandman laughs almost hysterically, tilting his head.

“I’ll consider it,” he says, surprising The Soul Taker. “But first, I need to find out who the real Rain is.”

Slowly but surely, Mr. Sandman backs away, only to turn around and bump into a surprising face; Jimmy Sartyr.

The Innovator looks less than infused.

“I know what it’ll take to stop Old School Wrestling,” he admits. “But not every measure is a measure that I’m willing to take. I joined him,” Jimmy says pointing over Sandman’s shoulder to Rain. “That was bad enough. But I’m not onboard with you joining too.”

Mr. Sandman steps in a little closer, almost uncomfortably so, peering down at the smaller Sartyr.

“Your leader seems to be making that decision for you, does he not?” Sandman says looking back towards Rain, who can’t hear them but seems to be curious about what they’re saying. “Perhaps you should discuss that with him.”

As Sandman walks away, Jimmy looks towards Rain with a frown.

Their eyes meet.

Their history reborn.

Perhaps the Internet Wrestling Federation has a couple of underlying stories of their own?

Cut.

ALTON WHITLOCK © VS. SWEET ALICE
DOUBLE FEATURE CHAMPIONSHIP

A rematch from a hellacious ladder match a few weeks ago, will Sweet Alice rebound from her failed takeover of the Red Queen and regain the Double Feature gold or will Whitlock’s new nature be too much for the Dreamer?

The bell sounds as Whitlock rushes forward, taking Alice by surprise with a flurry of heavy blows, a stiff headbutt staggering her back before a hard boot squashes Alice’s head against the cage with a sickening thud. Alice slumps down to her knees in a daze as Alton grabs the back of her head before slamming it into the steel over and over in a fury before pulling her up to her feet, a knee draped around her neck, PARTY POLITICS! And a particularly vicious one at that.

Whitlock goes to pull Alice up but a desperation low blow slows him down before a DDT drills him into the mat. Whitlock staggers up into a leaping knee before he’s swept onto the mat as Alice hops in mid-air for a moment, being TERRIBLY LATE WITH A HARD LEGDROP ACROSS THE THROAT! Alice pulls Whitlock up but another stiff headbutt out of nowhere rocks her as he lifts her up onto his shoulders, SNAP ELECT…HURRICANRANA! Alton rolls through, WELCOME TO WONDERLAND!

Alice pulled that book out of nowhere, knocking Alton damn near out cold with it as she doesn’t cover, instead beginning to slowly climb up the cage. Whitlock recovers faster then expected as he follows Alice who manages to get to the top, Alton shaking the cage as Alice clings for dear life high up in the air. Whitlock swings over as both competitors fight it out on top before a third headbutt stuns Alice once more, Alton standing on shaky legs up on top as he lifts Alice up onto his shoulders before diving off. BETTER WORLD! VERTEBREAKER FROM THE TOP OF THE CAGE! Both competitors are out cold on the mat as Alton just manages to swing an arm over Alice for the ONE…TWO…THREE!!!

Whitlock just manages to shut down Alice here tonight, retaining the Double Feature Championship in a brutal war.

FAITH
EARLIER TONIGHT

Draped in darkness, we find Banzan alone. In deep meditation, he seems to almost be glowing with the energies moving around him.

“The monk,” a voice calls from behind him.

Banzan’s eyes open, the glow ceasing as he rises to his full height, towering over the intruder.

Anna Goodchild.

No fear in his eyes, the Mountain regards the woman as a curiosity.

“Do you wish to battle?” He asks, a sparkle in his eye. He’s toying with her. “Or have you finally come to talk?”

Anna smiles, her eyebrow raised at the big man.

“I did not come to fight you.” She says, her arms raised in a gesture of peace. “I have a question for you, though.”

Banzan nods, and she continues.

“How can you continue to work for a company that is responsible for the death of the gods themselves? The most high powers, and OSW is responsible for their destruction.”

Regarding the question, the Mountain smiles before answering.

“I have pondered that question, both before I came to OSW and even now, but I have something that so many have abandoned in these trying times. Faith, Anna Goodchild. Faith is what guides me. If the gods were truly the most high powers, would they have been destroyed? I have faith in the universe. I have faith that there is a plan that is only beginning to play out.”

Anna shakes her head, letting her arms fall to her side in an exaggerated manner.

“You’re a fool, Banzan.” She states. “But you are correct about one thing: there is always a plan.”

WHACK!

HAYDEN HARDKORE OUT OF NOWHERE! POWER OF THE SOUTHPAW! THE MOUNTAIN HAS BEEN KNOCKED OFF HIS FEET!

Hardkore stands to his feet, sneering down at Banzan. Cowboy Jim Jenkins slinks out of the darkness before stomping a mudhole in Banzan, rendering the Mountain unconscious.

Goodchild smiles at Jenkins and Hayden as the three of them leave Banzan down and out.

Those bastards caught him by surprise!

Cut.

JUDGING FATE
BACKSTAGE

“Something approaches.”

Brent Kersh.

Jessie Williams.

Moirai.

Moirai and Jessie move back to back, fists clenched. The Prince’s eyes move everywhere.

“You know who it is?” He queries.

Moirai almost rolls her eyes.

“Of course, it’s…”

“The Judge.” Brent Kersh finishes.

Moirai and Jessie both stop to look at Kersh, who seems entirely unconcerned. Almost at the same time, the Judge appears in the room with them, his weapon slung over his shoulder. He looks at Kersh.

“You requested my presence, Enforcer?” He states, a question in the air…

…or maybe a threat.

Brent nods.

“Listen up,” he begins, getting the attention of all.

Thus is the respect given to the Enforcer.

“We’ve all got our own problems. I’d sure like to get my son back to where he belongs, but right now that’s not possible. Because every step we take, we’re having to keep our heads down. The IWF is attacking from all sides. They want to end OSW, but we can’t let that happen.”

Kersh looks at the Judge and Moirai.

“In a world without gods, your powers have made you the closest things to them. This place is just beginning to show you how you fit into this new world. If the IWF has their way, you’ll be loosed out into the universe with no place to go.”

He looks at Jessie.

“Your dad sent you here to find out how to rescue him. Your uncle died here. The creature that did it is here. If the IWF destroys OSW, then all of that goes away. Matt died for nothing, your dad will be lost to you forever, and there will be nothing to stop Rogers from doing whatever he intends to do.”

The Judge cocks his head.

“What about you, Brent Kersh?” He says. “Why do you fight?”

The Enforcer meets the gaze of all.

“OSW has taken so much from me, and from those I love.” He pauses. “But three years ago, I looked into the eyes of the only God I ever worshiped. OSW, whether the IWF likes it or not, is a place of universal importance. I’ll be damned if the IWF makes everything I and others have fought and died for worthless.”

The others nod, feeling his passion.

“They’ve struck from the shadows, but it’s time to rip them into the daylight. OSW will not go down without a fight, and it’s up to us to give that fight.”

Cut.

BLOOD SHARK & THE JUDGE © VS. STRAIGHT & KANE
TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIPS

Who will be sleeping with the fishes tonight?

The imposing Judge steps forwards to defend the Championships. Candy doesn’t back down. He flings her into the ropes, but The Canary flutters into a headscissor takedown! She mounts the iron giant and pummels him with lefts and rights that would make anybody sing. He throws her off, however, then delivers his VERDICT – Sparta kick into the corner!

He tags Shark, who mauls Kane. He chokes her with his foot – ONE… TWO… THREE… FOUR… Stopping just shy of a DQ! He leads her out, then drops her with a headbutt! Shark hits the ropes, tearing back towards a kneeling Candy… BLOODY MARY! Kane ducks the shining wizard! CRIME AND PUNISHMENT – gogoplata! Shark is caught!

Judge intervenes—The Dick moves—Shark eats a 380-pound elbow from his teammate! Hot tag to Monty! The emcee clotheslines Judge over the ropes, then drops Shark with the DEAL BREAKER headlock-backbreaker! No pinfall, though: it’s a COMMERCIAL BREAK – emerald flowsion powerslam! Straight is on fire! He goes for the Russian leg sweep – but Shark dives into a tag!

Order in the court! Judge shows The Deal Maker that YOUR PAST MAY BITE YOU – bite-cutter combo! He takes him up top on his shoulders… PERFECT BALANCE electric chair drop! The arbiter plucks Monty off the mat. RESTORATION powerbomb! ONE – here comes Kane! TWO – BLOODY MARY shining wizard by Shark! THREE – Judge pins Straight!

The Champions retain!

YOUR ENEMY II
SOMEWHERE ELSE

Alton Whitlock stands among his crowd of terrified supporters–and he senses a fight. He looks at his nearest staffer.

“Get these people out of here,” he says, motioning around him. He’s taking off his suit coat and rolling up his sleeves. “They’re not soldiers. They didn’t sign up for this. Get them out of here. Then get out yourselves.”

The team disperses. Meanwhile, Gouldern and his entourage have stopped a stone’s throw away from the frontlines of the Anonymous legion. As Whitlock starts walking toward the two forces, Gouldern steps forward.

“This is the scenario,” he begins.

“Backyard script-kiddie nobody meddles with a giant he wants no part of.”

“Some kind of statement, one supposes. You are the reason I lost my title, Anon. Extensive analysis shows it was no fault of my own.”

“Meanwhile, a baby-kissing buffoon waddles up to my castle and flings simple-minded criticisms at my walls.”

“I lose one million, four hundred and seventy eight thousand, six hundred and twenty three dollars and forty four cents every minute I waste out here. You’re disrupting my business. Leave.”

In response, every member of the Anonymous horde speaks as one.

“BIG BROTHER WILL SOON FIND HIS THROAT SLIT.”

“WE ARE MORE THAN A NUMBER. WE ARE ANONYMOUS.”

Mark laughs, then gives a subtle hand motion. The mechs move forward.

Suddenly, their arms transform–becoming assault rifles.

For an instant, Whitlock runs his hand along the scar on his cheek. He stares at the Anonymous legion.

He wants revenge. He wants to watch the killing machines reduce that entire horde to nothing.

But something stops him.

“Murder? Slaughter?” Whitlock asks himself quietly, grimacing. “A man like BEG or Mark Gouldern might see this as an opportunity. But I won’t watch blood run in this country’s streets.”

He takes off in a sprint, roaring, “MARK! CALL THEM OFF!”

The mechs raise their weapons.

But just then, there’s a flicker.

The entire Anonymous horde blinks out into nothing. Holograms.

Automatically, the robots stand down.

Whitlock glares at Gouldern.

“The data suggested he was BEG, Alton,” Gouldern says bluntly, suddenly losing his robotic cool. “High certainty, too. Those fucking mouthbreathers must have hacked my biometrics database and implanted false information in BEG’s file for when I ran the simulations.”

“Bullshit,” Whitlock growls.

“Believe me or not, Alton,” Mark continues. “Something needs to be done.”

“I’m working on it.”

Whitlock starts to walk away from the disbelieving Gouldern.

“And Mark?” Alton asks suddenly, turning back one last time.

“Stay the fuck out of my way.”

Cut.

THE MOUNTAIN
SOMEWHERE ELSE

High in the Amulet Mountain, Korra is talking to her tribe.

“I know how you are feeling, I feel it too. Our village, ripped away from us, destroyed by that wicked woman. Everything we ever had, everything we fought for, everything our ancestors worked for lost because of another white demon.”

“But you know what my father would say in this, what I’m saying to you now?”

The tribe shouts in unison.

“We keep fighting!”

“That’s right, we keep fighting, we still have the two things that give us the most strength, our mountain and our people. As long as our tribe sticks together, we can…”

A burst of flame whizzes past Korra’s head!

It’s Pyre!

“What can you do? Accomplish anything? Is that what you were going to say Pocahontas?”

“No, not necessarily…I was going to say kill the bitch!”

It’s an ambush! The shouting was meant to draw her in! Along with drawing her in, it has caused an avalanche! She is caught in the snow but Korra’s tribe know exactly how to avoid it and they shoot 100 arrows in her direction!

She takes them out with another burst of flame but she hasn’t noticed Korra marching towards her!

Korra has a blade right across Pyre’s throat!

“Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right here.”

“Because I’m the only one who can reverse the damage I caused.”

Korra withdraws the blade.

“If you are lying, I will not hesitate the next time.”

Cut.

LUKE STORM & VOYNICH VS. RICK PLANT
TWO V ONE MATCH

Will lightning fell flora, or will its roots dig their heels in to save it?

Eager to cement his legacy, Voynich goes first. He gives Plant the slip and floors the veteran with a fireman’s carry takedown. He slaps a chinlock on him, but Rick powers to his feet! He ducks behind the Austrian – rude-awakening neckbreaker! ONE… TW—Kickout! Luke was ready to step in, but the archaeologist has grit.

Plant sends The Best Kept Secret into the corner… Stinger splash! The IWF loyalist tosses him overhead with a belly-to-belly suplex! He sits in the corner and screams for Voynich to “get up!”. Here it comes… POWER SUR—Voynich dives out of harm’s way! Rick misses the spear – and Voynich gets the hot tag!

Luke storms into the ring, and we have a slugfest! Rick gives as good as he gets, but Stormking is the fresh man. Plant reels back into the ropes – big back body drop by Storm! ONE… TWO… Shoulder up! Rick nurses his trick back. Luke stomps the mat… LIGHTNING STRIKE—POWER SURGE! The spear cuts off the superkick!

ONE… TWO… Voynich makes the save! The referee ushers him onto the apron, where he rallies support for Storm – and OSW! Rick scoops Luke into the tombstone… POWER CUT!? He wriggles free – DOWNPOUR codebreaker! Storm collapses – but Voynich tags in! He grabs Plant and runs at the turnbuckle – sliced bread #2, THE EIGHTH WONDER! ONE… TWO… THREE!

Power suffers a blackout!

SUSPECTS
BACKSTAGE

The Reaper rounds the corner in the backstage area when he’s suddenly met by Candy Kane taking a long drag from her cigarette.

“You’re a hard man to get a hold of friend,” Kane muses, cracking a sly smile.

“I make it a habit of keeping a low profile. Is there something I can help you with, I’m not one for small talk and I’m sure as hell not looking for a date.”

Kane takes another drag from the cigarette and smiles.

“Murdering psychopaths aren’t really my type.”

As Kane begins to ask another question, a microphone slow begins to descend from above. Monty Straight smoothly enters the picture, smiling wildly at the potential contestants.

“I was hoping I could potentially make both of your dreams come true,” Straight says, staring at Reaper and Kane.

Candy Kane drops the cordial attitude displayed before and approaches both men.

“Straight you could make my dreams come true by shutting your mouth. You’re both prime suspects in the murders that are going on in this place. Straight, I know all about your altercation with Mefisto. Reaper, the carnage fits your profile.”

“I assure you, miss, I’m not a murderer. I’m simply a straighter shooter wanting to make dreams come true. Now, that guy’s a little scary, I could believe his involvement,” Straight states, smiling in Kane’s direction.

Reaper reaches out and grabs Straight by the collar. Kane then steps between the both of them before any altercation ensues.

“I’m watching both of you closely. One fuck up and I’m taking you both down.”

Kane takes a puff of her cigarette and blows smoke in both of the suspects’ faces.

BANZAN © VS. SARTYR VS. WILLIAMS VS. MR. SANDMAN
REWIND CHAMPIONSHIP

As we head ringside for the Main Event, Jessie Williams is already stood in the ring.

The lights dim briefly as the distorted synth buildup to “A City On Fire” by Fighstar kicks in, before Jimmy rushes out from behind the curtain at the ‘Woo!’. He paces around a little, crouching down at the top of the ramp and crossing his arms in an X in front of him. Rising to his feet, he unfurls his arms like wings, posing for a brief moment before making his way to the ring.

Whilst trying to convey confidence, he can’t help but wince at the boos from the hostile crowd before rolling into the ring, darting to one of the far turnbuckles and repeating his swan pose.Hopping down, he adjusts his shoulder pads and waits for the action to begin.

A low pulsing purple glow fills the Slaughterhouse, pulsing in time with the music of “Wolf Totem”. Dry ice fills the entrance stage, coloured purple from the lighting. The gravelly sound of Mongolian Throat singing cuts through the atmosphere and we see the hulking frame of the Indestructible Mountain as the chanting announces his arrival.

He breathes in the incense of his lifeforce, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. When he opens them once more, his eyes are trained on the ring. Slowly, he makes his descent, entering amongst his opponents.

Ladders litter ringside, standing tall in every which direction. Jessie Williams, Banzan and Jimmy Sartyr stand looking towards the Rewind Championship that dangles above.

Mr. Sandman is no-where to be seen.

The bell sounds and Banzan immediately joins with Williams to attack the IWF aligned Jimmy Sartyr. They toss him into the corner and go to work with right and left hands.

Sartyr wisely drops to his butt, scooting between the pair of them to try and escape. He rolls away to the outside, catching his breath.

Banzan goes one way and Jessie goes the other, looking to cut him off.

The Innovator slides back into the ring just as The Mountain approaches, storming off into the ropes and coming back with a Baseball Slide just as Banzan heads under the bottom rope.

Williams meanwhile attacks from behind, clubbing Sartyr across the back with a Double Axe Handle. He scoops him up into a Suplex, only Jimmy drops down behind, running him into the ropes. Jessie holds on, sending the Innovator tumbling backwards.

They both turn, The Prince LEAPING INTO THE AIR!

SUPERMAN PUNCH!

BOOYAH!

NO! SARTYR SPINS UNDERNEATH!

STEP UP ENZIGURI!

Banzan is back into the action with a Ladder, running into the back of Sartyr as he gets back to his feet, almost cleaning his clock. The Champion immediately positions the ladder underneath the Rewind Champion and begins his ascent.

Jimmy though isn’t going to allow that and quickly heads opposite. The both reach the top, Sartyr a little behind and able to connect with body shots.

They weaken the Mountain, who doesn’t see Williams coming from behind.

HE PUTS HIS HEAD UNDERNEATH BANZAN AND PLACES THE CHAMPION ON HIS SHOULDER!

ELECTRIC CHAIR DROP!

ELECTRIC CHAIR DROP OFF THE LADDER!

SARTYR CAN WIN IT!

Jimmy reaches up…

He’s inches away!

STATIC.

DARKNESS!

SANDMAN!

THE LIGHTS COME BACK ON AND MR. SANDMAN HAS JIMMY BY THE THROAT!

He squeezes down, choking him back down the ladder.

But here comes Jessie Williams!

Here comes Banzan! Banzan joins Sandman on one side of the ladder and Williams joins Sartyr on the other.

RUSSIAN LEGSWEEP TO SANDMAN BY BANZAN!

THEY BOTH TOPPLE OFF!

The Prince is looking for a Back Drop, but Jimmy is holding on!

HE TUGS!

THE LADDER TIPS!

THE LADDER TIPS!

JESSIE WILLIAMS CRACKS HIS BACK ON THE TOP ROPE AND FLIPS OVER IT TO THE OUTSIDE!

BUT SARTYR LANDS ON HIS FEET LIKE A FUCKING CAT!

JIMMY LANDS ON THE TOP ROPE. HE STEPS FORWARD BACK ONTO THE LADDER, REPOSITIONING IT BENEATH THE TITLE!

THAT WAS FUCKING BEAUTIFUL AGILITY!

The Innovator reaches up, his fingertips once again on the title. He’s going to do it. We’re going to have an IWF Champion here tonight.

But no!

There’s Banzan!

The Mountain pushes the ladder over!

Jimmy tumbles AND AGAIN LANDS ON THE TOP ROPE!

HE LEAPS OFF!

BANZAN CATCHES HIM IN MID-AIR, BLOCKING THE CROSSBODY!

FALL AWAY SLAM INTO THE TILTED LADDER!

JESUS CHRIST!

Banzan gets back to his feet, bumping immediately into Mr. Sandman. Sandman grabs him, whipping him into the ropes.

END OF DAYS!

DEEP SLEEP!

Mr. Sandman grabs the ladder and puts it back in place. There’s carnage around him. All he has to do is climb up and take the Championship.

He begins trundling up, only Jessie Williams is back into the fray!

The Prince rushes up the ladder as quickly as he can, meeting Mr. Sandman at the top. He grabs the belt just before the Monster does, slamming it into his head.

AGAIN.

AGAIN.

AGAIN!

The Night Terror looks like he’s gonna fall off.

HERE COMES JIMMY SARTYR WITH A SECOND LADDER!

He sets it up alongside them, clambering up the same side as Mr. Sandman.

The Innovator turns himself on the ladder and starts kicking out.

BUT SANDMAN GRABS HIM BY THE THROAT!

LEAPING CHOKESLAM!

LEAPING CHOKESLAM TO THE FLOOR BY MR. SANDMAN, WHO LANDS ON HIS FUCKING FEET LIKE A CAT!

JIMMY SARTYR IS BROKEN IN HALF!

The Night Terror snaps his head towards Jessie, who has stepped over the ladder and now stands above him.

HE JUMPS OFF!

BOOYAH!

SUPERMAN PUNCH OFF THE TOP OF THE FUCKING LADDER!

MAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!

JUST AS BANZAN NAILS THE KINSHASHA!! OH MY FUCKING GOD!

SANDMAN JUST GOT NAILED!

Jessie Williams is hurt.

Banzan is getting back to his feet…

He quickly rushes up the ladder, reaching up…

HE UNSTRAPS THE REWIND CHAMPIONSHIP!

BANZAN RETAINS!

BANZAN RETAINS!

The Mountain sits atop the ladder, Rewind Championship in hand – absolutely exhausted. Beneath him, Jessie Williams was clambering himself up the ladder but stops in exhaustion of his own.

What a title defence. This could’ve went in a whole multitude of ways but Banzan keeps the Rewind Championship over the shoulder of an OSW wrestler.

THE LONG NIGHT I
SOMEWHERE ELSE

Hell’s Kitchen.

It’s raining.

The night is as dark as the air is toxic. The Butcher, wearing a large black rain jacket is stomping through the city puddles, making his way towards a rather quiet alleyway just around the corner from The Slaughterhouse.

When he arrives, a car is parked therein, its headlights shining directly on him as he approaches.

Colin heads to the driver’s side door, where a window is rolled down.

“Get in,” says the driver.

He does as instructed, slumping into a seat with his sopping wet frame.

Sat opposite him? Lance Norman.

“I can’t believe you have the balls to meet with me,” Butch gruffly says.

“Look behind you,” Lance replies.

The Butcher looks to see the driver with a silenced pistol pointed at the back of his head.

“I’m surprised you came,” Norman continues with a smile of his own.

Carefully and slowly, Colin opens his jacket, revealing a tiny bomb strapped to his chest. In his hand is a pressure trigger.

“Touché,” Lance chuckles, waving to his man to put the gun down – which he does. “You’re not to be underestimated, are you Colin? I admire that.”

“It’s clear your entire roster forgot that about you,” Butcher responds in kind. “After all, I’m assuming none of them know why you’re really here. That speech about the destruction of Old School Wrestling was catchy, but nowhere near the truth.”

Norman shrugs.

“Do you know why they’ve followed me into the breach once more?” He asks with a resounding nod. “It’s because of what OSW has taken from them. Each of them has lost something in the world created by the death of the Gods.”

“That was before my time,” Colin interrupts. “And before the time of a lot of these wrestlers. Do you think Luke Storm knows how Judgement Day was averted?”

“We don’t care. This company has to cease. It’s less an industry and more a pestilence. Don’t you see that, Colin? At the heart of what could’ve been the end of the world, was OSW. At the heart of what could’ve been a glorious confirmation of deity, only to see it decimated and the world along with it, was OSW.”

“Cut the shit,” Butcher angrily interrupts. “That’s not why you’re here and we both know it.”

They both smile.

To be continued.

WE ARE IWF
SOMEWHERE ELSE

Static.

A shaky camera records grainy footage, walking down the corridor of a dimly lit warehouse. When it comes to a stop, it’s at the feet of someone sitting on a wooden chair.

Slowly the camera rises, revealing Moirai – bleeding from a wound on her forehead, tied to the chair with her arms behind her back and a bandana stuffed in her mouth.

“When my father told me to come to Old School Wrestling and end it, I thought that it’d be out of character for a man like me,” a somewhat arrogant voice says, his hand grabbing Moirai by the throat. “But when he told me what I’d be saving, I couldn’t help but understand.”

The hand slips slowly squeezes, waking Moirai up with a jump. She chokes, her eyes bulging as the hand grips tighter and tighter.

Her struggling soon gets weaker, until finally, it stops.

With her eyes open, her head flops forward.

The camera spins, showing the culprit.

Tyler Brooks.

The son of Lance Norman, blonde as ever, smiles a toothy grin at us. He looks older than we last saw him, but you’d never forget that arrogance.

“Your savior has arrived,” he says right into the camera. “I’m not talking to you, Old School Wrestling; I’m talking to the people. There’s no God’s anymore, no-one to save you from the evil of this world.”

He chuckles.

“Except me.”

Tyler points to the camera.

“And him.”

The camera spins, revealing a second shocking face.

Cody Williams.

The Reflection of Perfection smiles.

“And we’ve started with her. We are the IWF,” Cody bellows. “And we are the end of OSW.”

Cut.