Click.
Static covers the screen as a Play ► symbol appears in the bottom right-hand corner.
Continued. Last Week.
After that gruelling fight between Sigil and The Butcher, both of them now sit on the concrete floor, capturing their breath.
The meat cleaver sits ominously on the floor between them and when their eyes notice it, they immediately lunge.
Only it’s The Collector who reaches it first.
He gets back to his feet, clutching it and looming over The Butcher.
“Did you really think you’d be able to kill me?” He angrily yells.
Cartwright just laughs.
“You’re a fool,” he replies confidently. “And you still haven’t figured it out, have you?”
Sigil doesn’t understand at all.
“Wasn’t this all just a little too easy?” He offers. “I took Voynich, I beat him up and then I simply gave you the location – does none of that strike you as odd?”
“You wanted to trap and kill me,” Sigil angrily reminds him. “That’s why it was all so easy.”
“You’re wrong,” The Butcher spews, spitting venomously as he does. “None of this was my idea. None of it.”
Sigil shrugs, as if he doesn’t understand the point.
“But I will tell you this; that kid can take one hell of a beating.”
The Collector turns around to see Voynich free from his restraints, smiling like a lunatic with blood drying around his face.
He rushes towards him, only Sigil throws the cleaver up into the air, slamming it into the ceiling above.
A white current suddenly snaps with the breaking of the circle above them and as Voynich storms in to grab at his partner, Sigil vanishes into a portal and escapes.
Having barely missed him, Voynich angrily roars.
A guttural yell.
“I’m sorry,” The Butcher says sincerely. “I shouldn’t have taken my pound of flesh.”
Voynich offers a hand and helps him back to his feet.
“No, I know you needed that, that’s why I didn’t intervene earlier,” he admits.
“It was a great plan, kid,” he says proudly. “From taking that beating I gave you to finding the Primordial Trap. He knows you’re not to be trifled with.”
Voynich looks at him – there’s a sincerity in his eyes.
“After what he did to your family, after the lies he told and the making me an accomplice, I realized exactly who he is; this isn’t over, not by a long shot.”
Cut.
The war for the future of Old School Wrestling is upon us, and the armies are in position in the battlefield!
On one side of the ring, we see the full IWF squadron ready to wage war. On the other, we see…four men.
Monty Straight, Banzan, Jac Bastard and Major Thom are ready for war…but there is no sign of Luke Storm.
This does not bode well for the OSW team, but the IWF army doesn’t care as they ambush their opponents! The numbers game appears to be all IWF’s as the Terror Squad, Rain, and Rick Plant send out all but Bastard out of the ring, leaving him with Anna Goodchild to officially start this match as the bell rings!
The two trade blows, neither side letting up until Anna catches Bastard off guard with a drop toe hold to get an advantage. She uses this opportunity to connect with a quick leg drop across the back of Jac’s head, and immediately tags in Rick Plant!
“Power” really lives up to his namesake here, laying in some hard hits on Bastard before picking him up, only to send him smack dab into the corner with a THUD!
Rick immediately uses the momentum to catch Bastard with a German suplex, bridging the neck to keep the shoulders pinned down as the ref counts!
ONE!
KICKOUT BY BASTARD!
Jack quickly gets to his feet, making a tag to an amped up Major, who goes on the warpath with a flurry of offense on Plant, unleashing a kick to the midsection that sinks in deep before Thom hoists Plant onto his shoulders!
CODE–RICK COUNTERS OUT!
DDT ON THE MAJOR, DRIVING HIM HEADFIRST INTO THE CANVAS!
Plant makes a quick tag to Rain, who smirks as he approaches the fallen Major…but Thom is able to get back to his feet, rocking Rain back with lefts and rights so he can dive toward Banzan for the tag!
It’s now a Mountain against a Monster in this war, the former gearing up for a bear stance…only for the latter to charge at him with a big shoulder tackle that sends Banzan reeling back…
…AND RIGHT INTO A BLIND TAG BY STRAIGHT!
Rain just stares down the Straight Shooter, chuckling in dismissal before looking over to the Terror Squad and tagging in Cody. The two trade lefts and rights, opening Straight up for a chance to strike!
TERMS AND CONDITIONS ON CODY! A MASTERFUL RUSSIAN LEG SWEEP, AND STRAIGHT’S GOT THAT CROSSFACE CINCHED IN TIGHT!
Problem is, Brooks is right there with a boot to Straight’s head to break up the submission! Major Thom comes in to even the odds as Cody gets to his feet…
…AND THE TERROR SQUAD TAKE THE MAJOR DOWN WITH A DOUBLE SUPERKICK!
This brings Bastard back in, but Rain cuts him off at the pass with a hard chop that can be heard throughout the Slaughterhouse before Rain lifts him up…
…WHEN IT RAINS! BASTARD’S DOWN AND OUT AFTER THAT!
Banzan comes charging in, looking to offset the Monster…only to deal with the combined might of Plant and Goodchild! They lay into the Mountain with some hard strikes, but he lays out Goodchild with a clothesline and grabs Plant, lifting him overhead!
DUKKHA ON RICK PLANT, SLAMMING HIM ONTO THE CANVAS!
Banzan turns his attention back to Rain now, a smirk back on the face of the Monster as they trade heavy blows before attempting to take each other down with a shoulder tackle, but to no avail. Banzan takes a swing but misses, giving Rain an opening as he rears back a fist!
SOUL PUNCH BY RAIN…BUT BANZAN DODGES IT! TIGER CLAW TO RAIN, AND THE MONSTER IS DOWN!
Banzan doesn’t get much room to breathe as Terror Squad attack him from behind, though! HAYDEN HARDKORE IS IN TOO!
RIGHT HANDS BY HAYDEN! EYE OF THE SAVIOR BY BROOKS! PERFECT RUSH BY CODY!
Banzan drops to the canvas after that assault by Terror Squad, who find themselves standing tall with the remaining soldiers, OSW and IWF, down and out!
Brooks turns around, looking for a high-five from Hayden and Cody. All three slap hands.
SUPERKICK!!
ANOTHER DOUBLE SUPERKICK, ONLY THIS TIME… IT’S…
IT’S.. TO HAYDEN HARDKORE!!?
WHAT THE FUCK?
What the fuck is going on? Tyler Brooks and CXDY just Superkicked their own team mate and friend.
CXDY pulls Hayden back to his feet and throws him towards Tyler.
YOUR FORETOLD DESTINY!
LEAPING ROUNDHOUSE TO THE FACE!
As Hayden hits the canvas having been utterly betrayed, CXDY drags Monty Straight and lays him over.
The referee tries to explain that Hayden isn’t even in the match, but Brooks and CXDY threaten him into making the count…
ONE…
….
TWO….
….
THREE!!
It’s over! Terror Squad turn on the IWF and help OSW pick up the victory here tonight. What the fuck just happened?
What an absolutely shocking conclusion to that match!
The Terror Squad have done the unthinkable – two of them have turned on one of their team mates and gifted Old School Wrestling the victory.
Tyler Brooks and Cody Williams remain in the ring with big smiles on their faces, thrilled with themselves.
That’s when The Butcher steps out onto the stage.
“Did you really think I was just going to let this stand?” He queries, pacing. “Did you think I was just going to let the IWF waltz into and take my company?”
Brooks and Williams smirk from inside the ring as Lance Norman looks on from shock outside it.
“I bought the Terror Squad,” he announces. “And I paid them in more than false promises.”
The Butcher grins.
“To think that your own son turned on you; what kind of father must you be for that to happen?”
He shrugs.
“However, the truth is that for as long as there’s a Tyler Brooks in OSW, there’s a Lance Norman waiting to invade it; I just can’t abide that.”
Suddenly, a figure dressed in black drops from the ceiling, as if out of no-where, forcibly thrusting a blade into the throat of Tyler Brooks.
Cody Williams can’t believe it.
Brooks holds his throat, immediately falling to the canvas, bleeding out all over it.
As Williams goes to check on him, Lance Norman looks on in horror.
“I’ll give you a headstart, Lance,” he growls. “Run.”
Cut.
The Boiler Room.
In the guts of Old School Wrestling, in a dimly lit boiler room, we can see the bludgeoned face of Luke Storm.
Blood has dried upon his scalp, but his eyes are open. He’s led on the cold concrete floor, on his side, looking straight ahead.
Meanwhile, sat opposite and rocking back and forth is his brother.
“You don’t have to do this,” Storm pleads. “I did what I did for your own good, Eddie.”
Nygma just keeps rocking.
“I don’t know what you’re planning but think about mom. Think about our family. Think about Scarlett – I’m all she has.”
The Riddler suddenly snaps his head back around.
“Don’t,” he mutters. Scarlett is clearly a favourite of Edward Newton, who resides somewhere in this monster.
Storm coughs.
“It doesn’t have to end this way. Look, why don’t we settle it in the ring?” Luke offers. “You won Ring King; you’re the King of Old School Wrestling and that makes you entitled to a shot at the Champ.”
He tries his best to sit himself up, leaning against the wall.
“You said you want to take everything from me, little brother. If you take my life, you’re missing out,” he says convincingly. “I’m still the OSW Champion and if you kill me, you can’t take that. C’mon, one last stop before the end of the road.”
The Riddler grimaces before chuckling faintly.
“Have it your way,” he growls. “… brother.”
Cut.
Red Snow! Christmas! The Toybox is decorated with tinsel, barbed wire, and boxes of new toys! And SeeSaw stands in the center of it with a sickening smile on his face as Dr. D’ville enters the Toybox with his son.
D’ville walks around the Toybox cautiously as SeeSaw claps his hands together manically, tearing open the top of one of his presents! HE PULLS OUT A NAIL COVERED LIGHT SABER! Mr. Make Believe rushes down the good doctor and takes a wild swing!
D’Ville ducks the blow and grabs a nearby gift that he bashes SeeSaw over the head with! SeeSaw is rocked and D’Ville grabs the present from inside to reveal a nerf gun! He fires at will AND NEEDLE TIPPED NERF DARTS COVER SEESAW’S BODY!
Blood drips from poor SeeSaw’s wounds and he catches the butt of the gun to the jaw! D’Ville grabs the lightsaber from his son’s hands and cracks it across SeeSaw’s back!
CRACK!
CRACK!
CRACK!
THE LIGHTSABER BREAKS IN TWO!
SeeSaw has been forced to his knees with blood oozing from his back and his daddy isn’t offering even a second to rest as he kicks his son right to the floor! D’Ville searches through some boxes under the tree and finds the deadliest one he can!
LAWN DARTS!
He turns to throw BUT GETS CAUGHT BY A SPINEBUSTER THROUGH THE TREE! SUPERFINE TURBINE BLAST FROM SEESAW!
Both men land in a heap of presents and D’Ville crawls away, a lawn dart stuck into his ribcage! He pulls it out and turns around to see SeeSaw WITH THE ENTIRE BARBED WIRE COVERED CHRISTMAS TREE HELD OVER HEAD! D’VILLE CATCHES ALL OF IT AS THAT TREE SMASHES INTO HIM AND PINS HIM TO THE WALL!
The Good Doctor’s head smashes into the wall behind him and he doesn’t even know where he is! But SeeSaw isn’t done playing! No, this is the only Christmas he may have with his daddy and he wants to play with ALL of those new toys! HE TAKES ONE OF THE LAWN DARTS AND THROWS IT AT D’VILLE!
BLOOD! BLOOD FUCKING GUSHES OUT AS THE DART TAKES OUT ONE OF D’VILLE’S GOD DAMN EYES!
SeeSaw laughs maniacally, leaping and giggling with joy! But he doesn’t truly seem happy with what he’s done… No! Maybe he just needs to play more with his daddy!
He grabs from the pile of smashed presents and comes out with a magic 8-ball! He approaches D’Ville and goes to crash it down on his daddy’s head- LAWN DART TO THE SIDE! D’VILLE TOOK THAT LAWN DART FROM HIS OWN EYE AND JAMMED IT INTO SEESAW!
He uses the dart as a grip and pulls SeeSaw down to the tree! He stabs him repeatedly, ignoring the pained screams as he wraps the barb wire tinsel around SeeSaw’s neck! He’s trapped him!
D’Ville gets up from behind the tree, grabbing the 8-ball from SeeSaw AND BRINGING IT DOWN AGAINST SEESAW’S HEAD OVER AND OVER AGAIN UNTIL IS SMASHES AND THE LIQUID INSIDE COVERS SEESAW’S FACE!
ACID! THE 8-BALL WAS FILLED WITH FUCKING ACID!
SeeSaw lets out wails of agony as D’Ville walks around him, sneering! He wipes the blood from his ruined eye and kicks SeeSaw in the side!
“You’re useless, Andy! All you want is a mommy? You don’t DESERVE one!”
SeeSaw’s wails turn to tears as D’Ville grabs him and yanks him up, the barbed wire tearing at his neck! With the acid on the metal he snaps free and D’Ville throws him into a pile of presents! SeeSaw tries to get up!
BUT D’VILLE GRABS HIM! DOUBLE UNDERHOOK DDT ONTO THE PRESENTS! SEESAW’S FACE MEETS A PILE OF RAZOR BLADES AND NAILS FROM THE DEMENTED TOYS HIDDEN INSIDE!
He weakly tries to rub the foreign objects out of his skin but D’Ville grabs him again! HE PULLS HIM CLOSE! HEADBUTT TO SEESAW! FOLLOWED UP BY A MASSIVE PILE DRIVER ONTO THE TOYBOX FLOOR!
SeeSaw hits the ground with a thud, blood pouring out of his injured body in buckets! D’ville gets up, looking down at SeeSaw with total apathy. He shoves Mr. Make Believe with his foot to check for life.
But there’s nothing.
No movement.
No life.
D’Ville stands tall, and he turns to leave, SeeSaw’s body left in a heap behind him.
……..
But he can’t move! He looks down, and he sees SeeSaw’s hand clamped tightly around his ankle! MR. MAKE BELIEVE IS STILL ALIVE!
D’Ville starts kicking at SeeSaw again and again, trying to keep the monster down! But D’ville’s baby boy is up and he gets caught with a massive right! D’Ville stumbles back and SeeSaw has grabbed one last present! He pulls the toy from inside!
It’s Jack, his favorite toy. His crash test dummy.
D’Ville goes to grab for it BUT SEESAW CRACKS JACK’S HEAD AGAINST D’VILLE’S!
CRACK!
CRACK!
CRACK!
CRACK!
CRACK!
CRACK!
CRACK!
CRACK!
BLOOD!
BRAIN MATTER!
PIECES OF BONE!
D’VILLE’S REMAINING EYE!
ALL OF IT SPLATTERS THE GROUND AS EACH CRACK LANDS! EACH SOUND MORE SICKENING THAN THE LAST!
CRACK!
CRACK!
CRACK!
CRACK!
SeeSaw’s lost count! But when all is said and done, all we see before us is the bloodied remains of what was once D’Ville’s head, now a stain on the Toybox floor.
Something has changed.
SeeSaw looks at the body of D’Ville, but he has absolutely no desire to make him into a toy.
Instead, he walks towards the exit of the Toy Box and into the Warehouse that houses it, solemnly walking down the corridors.
We follow him towards a dirty old bathroom and watch as he enters, stopping short of the nearly complete shattered and dirt-stained mirror.
He uses the side of his palm to wipe away the muck, cutting his hand, before turning the taps on to reveal running water – brown running water no less.
With an old rag that sat on the basin, he begins using the dirty water to wipe away the make up on his face.
Every wipe takes away a little more until his not so pale exterior is revealed. Behind the paint is a man – a man we’ve never met before.
He tosses the rag aside and uses the water to slick back his hair on the tops and sides, almost becoming an entirely different person.
When finished, he exits the bathroom and doesn’t look back.
On the doors ahead of him, guarding it with their lives, are two of D’Ville’s men – each looking extremely confused.
“Where’s the Doctor?” One asks.
“And who the fuck are you?” The other demands to know.
SeeSaw stops, looking one dead square in his eyes.
“You may call me Mister Andy,” he replies in a deeper more masculine tone than we’ve come to expect. “Now please, excuse me. I have some toys to make for Christmas.”
The two guards reluctantly step aside and let him leave the building.
What the hell is going on?
Cut.
Will Bishop slay his biggest monster or will the hunter become the hunted? We find out now!
DING! DING!
Both men are circling around each other, neither of them want to rush into this. One mistake could be their last. Bishop goes for a jab! No! Banzan catches it! He starts squeezing hard and Bishop starts wincing in pain but he pokes the eye with his free hand!
BANZAN IS BLINDED AND BISHOP IS LOOKING TO TAKE ADVANTAGE!
FRONT KICK TO THE KNEE!
BANZAN CRUMBLES AND IS DOWN ON HIS KNEES!
SNAP DDT!
BISHOP MAKES THE COVER!
ONE!
BANZAN TOSSES BISHOP OFF HIM!
IT’S GOING TO TAKE A LOT MORE THAN THAT!
Bishop starts stomping away on Banzan! Stomp! Stomp! Stomp! Banzan catches the foot and stands up with it in his hands! He spins Bishop around and levels him with a massive elbow strike! Bishop goes down but he rolls under the ropes and gets on the apron!
BISHOP IS TRYING TO CATCH A BREATHER!
BANZAN IS HAVING NONE OF THAT AND MARCHES OVER TO GRAB HIM!
HE GRABS THE ARM TRYING TO PULL BISHOP UP BUT BISHOP HAS A HOLD OF BANZAN’S HAIR!
BISHOP DRAPES BANZAN’S NECK OVER THE ROPES AND JUMPS!
HOT SHOT!
BANZAN IS HOLDING HIS THROAT AND BISHOP CLIMBS THE TOP ROPE!
DIVING CLOTHESLINE!
NO! BANZAN COUNTERS IT INTO A POWERSLAM!
What a counter but Banzan doesn’t follow it with a cover! No, he picks Bishop right up like that and falls backward! Overhead toss right into the turnbuckles! Bishop hits the corner hard and is trying to pull himself up!
BANZAN CHARGES AT HIM!
RUNNING SPLASH!
NO! BISHOP ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY AND BANZAN HITS THE CORNER HARD!
BANZAN STUNS HIMSELF AND BISHOP CAPITALIZES!
BISHOP NAILS BANZAN WITH A BIG BOOT!
Banzan goes down hard and Bishop mounts on too! Massive rights from the hunter! Right hand after right hand and Banzan looks compelling out of it! Bishop sees Banzan suffering and he simply smiles! He just punches harder and harder! Banzan finally uses some leverage and tosses Bishop off of him and out of the ring!
BISHOP LANDS HARD ON THE FLOOR OUTSIDE THE RING!
BANZAN ROLLS OUT TO GO AFTER HIM!
HE RIPS BISHOP OFF THE FLOOR AND GETS BEHIND HIM!
DUKKHA!
SAITO SUPLEX ON THE BARRICADE!
SUFFERING EXISTS INDEED!
Banzan tosses Bishop back into the ring! He slides in after him and starts stomping on the back! Those focused stomps are darkening the bruises the barricade left! Banzan jumps! Knee drop to the small of the spine!
BISHOP IS WRITHING IN PAIN!
BANZAN BACKS UP TO THE CORNER AND WAITS FOR BISHOP TO GET UP!
BISHOP IS PULLING HIMSELF UP!
BANZAN CHARGES!
MAGGA!
KINSHASA KNEE STRIKE!
NO!
BISHOP GRABS THE REF AND TOSSES HIM IN THE WAY!
THE REF TAKES ALL OF THAT KNEE AND BANZAN IS APOLOGIZING!
BISHOP USES THAT LAPSE IN FOCUS AND NAILS BANZAN WITH THE DEADEYE!
SPEAR!
Bishop is smiling smugly about his handiwork! He starts to untie the bottom turnbuckle! It’s exposed and he drags Banzan to the corner! He starts bashing Banzan’s head into the steel ring! Banzan is busted open!
BISHOP IS SICKLY SMILING AND HE SHOVES THE STEEL RING INTO BANZAN’S OPEN WOUND!
HE STANDS UP AND LAUGHS!
WHAT IS HE THINKING!
HE RAISES HIS FOOT UP!
CURB STOMP!
BANZAN’S FACE IS A CRIMSON MASK!
IF HE WAS A NORMAL MAN, HE’D BE DEAD BUT HE SIMPLY SITS UP AND STARTS MEDITATING!
BISHOP FINALLY SEES THE RED GLOW AND HE IS TERRIFIED!
He slides out of the ring and looks underneath for anything he can find to stop the mountain! He finds chairs, kendo sticks, and garbage cans! He tosses them into the ring and Banzan is getting buried under the debris but he is not reacting!
BISHOP GRABS A STEEL CHAIR!
HE CLIMBS TO THE TOP ROPE!
HE DIVES WITH CHAIR IN HAND!
BISHOP LANDS ON THE DEBRIS AND HITS ALL OF IT!
BANZAN IS BURIED UNDER EVERY WEAPON BISHOP COULD THROW AND HE IS STILL SITTING!
Bishop is pissed and he grabs the chair! Chair shot after chair shot to Banzan’s skull but he takes all of it like it’s nothing! The chair breaks before Banzan does! Bishop is getting desperate and he is shoving the broken chair leg into Banzan’s open wound!
BISHOP MAKES A SLITTING THE THROAT GESTURE!
HE PULLS BANZAN UP OUT OF HIS MEDITATION STANCE!
BEFORE BANZAN CAN REALIZE IT, BISHOP HAS HIM UPSIDE DOWN IN TOMBSTONE POSITION!
HE DROPS HIM DOWN HARD WITH THE TOMBSTONE PILEDRIVER, CHAIR LEG AND ALL!
A REF SLIDES INTO THE RING!
A DESPERATE BISHOP MAKES THE COVER!
ONE!
. . .
TWO!
. . .
. . .
THREE!
Bishop has done it! He has defeated our former world champion and proven why he’s the monster hunter!
Bishop is back to his feet and shakes his head furiously.
“We’re not done,” he growls at Banzan who was about to leave the ring. “I’ll prove you’re a monster, if it’s the last thing I do. I’ve put you through two trials and there’s one left.”
The Mountain frowns, stepping back between the ropes.
He rushes over to Bishop, grabbing him by the scruff of the next and forcing him backwards into the corner.
“Do you think this is some kind of game, is that it?” He demands to know. “I’m not a monster. I’m a man of nature, of faith.”
Bishop scoffs.
“I’ve conditioned my body to be able manage incredible feats. I draw from my connection with nature through spiritual methods. That is how I can do what I do.”
“If that’s true, then what now?” The Hunter asks. “I’ve killed your friends. I’ve killed monsters on this roster and I won’t stop. I’ll never stop.”
The rage inside Banzan rises.
But one smile from Bishop washes all of that away.
He lets go of him, backing up.
“I’m not you,” be retorts. “I’m not a murderer. Aesop was my friend and he didn’t deserve that, but if I kill you then I’ll never truly be at peace.”
The Mountain walks away, leaving Bishop in shock.
“He passed,” Bishop growls to himself, muttering. “He passed the final trial.”
The Hunter stares at Banzan as he leaves, this battle between them clearly not over. What was the final trial and how did Banzan pass?
Cut.
The Reaper meets the Judge, for one and for all. Everything these two have been through, from the errors in the Observatory to the search for the one responsible for killing Reaper’s family… It has been so personal to Reaper.
Now this, a final resting place where he can lay it all on the line. His heart has never been more full than at this very moment. But where will it stand when the Red Snow stops falling this night?
With the tolling of the bell, Reaper charges off across the ring. He has Judge in his sights and wastes no time pulling the trigger.
SHOTGUN BLAST! STARTING WITH SOME FIRE!
BUT THE JUDGE GETS THE HELL OUT OF THE WAY AND THE PUNCH HITS NOTHING BUT TURNBUCKLE!
Before Reaper can turn around, he is clocked across the back of the neck with a DOUBLE AXE HANDLE that sends him chest first into the turnbuckle. Judge grabs him by the head and slams it into the steel for good measure.
NECKBREAKER FROM THE JUDGE TAKES REAPER DOWN!
Judge starts stomping away on The Reaper’s midsection, but the durable Harvester catches his foe by the foot and twists the ankle. Judge topples over and hits the canvas.
ANKLE LOCK BY REAPER, HE’S HELL BENT ON SNAPPING ANY PART OF JUDGE HE CAN!
NO!
THE JUDGE KICKS HIM AWAY, SENDING REAPER STAGGERING BACKWARDS!
A BRUTAL CLOTHESLINE FLIPS REAPER UPSIDE DOWN AND INSIDE OUT!
THE JUDGE REALLY RUNG HIS BELL!
Judge hurls Reaper to his feet and softens his ribs up with a few elbow strikes before a DOUBLE KNEE STRIKE DROPS HIM BACK TO THE MAT!
REAPER IS SUCKING IN AIR, AND YOU CAN SEE THE FRUSTRATION BUILDING AMONG THE PAIN!
REAPER WANTS NOTHING MORE THAN TO WRING JUDGE’S NECK, BUT THE JUDGE HAS HAD AN ANSWER FOR EVERYTHING HE’S THROWN AT HIM!
Again, The Judge picks up Reaper, Irish Whipping him into the ropes. The Reaper bounds off and hurtles back towards The Judge’s waiting Foot. He ducks under the BIG BOOT out of pure instincts, turning with a wild HAYMAKER of his own that the Judge parries just in time.
POWERSLAM BY THE JUDGE, RIGHT IN THE CENTE OF THE RING!
THE REAPER’S FRUSTRATION IS MAKING HIM ACT RECKLESSLY, AND THE CALCULATING JUDGE IS MAKING HIM PAY THE PRICE!
But the Reaper just won’t stay down. Resilient to a ‘T’, and with enough rage to power a small city, he is soon clawing at The Judge’s armour, pulling himself back to his feet again. The Judge grabs him by the scruff of his neck, lifting him up into a MILITARY PRESS!
REAPER IS TOWERING ABOVE THE RING, AND THIS DOESN’T LOOK GOOD!
ELBOW STRIKE FROM REAPER TO JUDGE!
ANOTHER!
ANOTHER!
THE JUDGE DROPS HIM AND REAPER LANDS ON HIS FEET!
IT’S THE OPENING HE NEEDS!
Reaper fights with a whole load of heart, the Judge with the contrast of pure calculations. But it is heart that had allowed Reaper to claw back into this, and heart allows him to now stand to his feet after taking a barrage of pain… Toe to Toe with his foe in the middle of the ring!
REAPER UNLOADS A BRUTAL RIGHT HOOK THAT STAGGERS JUDGE!
THAT HAD SOME VENOM ON IT, ALL OF HIS FRUSTRATION BARRELLED UP INTO ONE FIST!
JUDGE SLUGS ONE BACK THAT ROCKS REAPER!
BLOW BY BLOW, BOTH MEN STAND IN THE CENTRE OF THE RING… TRADING HANDS!
BOOM, BA-BA-FUCKING BOOM!
NOBODY BACKS DOWN. NO RELENTING… JUST A SLOBBERKNOCKING SLUGFEST BETWEEN THESE TWO!
The war of fists continues for some time, with both combatants eventually fading until their blows seem to all but topple the other over. Something HAS to give….
AND IT IS REAPER THAT GIVES IT!
THE UPPERCUT TO END ALL UPPERCUTS! THE JUDGE IS STAGGERED!
POW! A BRUTAL FIST RIGHT TO THE HELMET OF THE JUDGE! AND THE JUDGE GOES DOWN!
Amid the blood, spit and sweat, it is Reaper’s voice screaming over his downed opponent that we can hear…
“I FUCKING TOLD YOU I WAS GOING TO PUNCH YOU RIGHT IN THAT TIN CAN!”
With all the strength he can muster, The Reaper lifts The Judge up onto his shoulders. He has him on his back, and climbs the first two rungs of the turnbuckle.
JUSTICE BROUGHT FROM THE SECOND ROPE!
AN ELEVATED JUSTICE BROUGHT AND THEY SLAM INTO THE RING!
THE WHOLE ARENA SEEMS TO SHAKE WITH THAT ONE!
THE JUDGE IS FUCKING DOWN![/b]
Reaper remains, covering for the pin!
ONE!
…
…
…
AFTER EVERYTHING HE’S BEEN THROUGH, THE REAPER IS GONNA DO IT!
TWO!
…
…
…
THR-NO!
A POWER OUT! THE JUDGE’S POWER TOSSES REAPER OFF HIM!
But the Reaper comes back at him rapidly, hitting him as soon as the Judge makes his feet!
SHOTGUN BLAST!
THAT NEARLY KNOCKED HIS HELMET CLEAN OFF HIS HEAD!
THE JUDGE FALLS BACKWARDS INTO THE TURNBUCKLE… BUT HE DOES NOT GO DOWN!
The Reaper screams a guttural, agony-fueled cry as he charges at The Judge once more.
STOMACH PUNCH TO THE JUDGE!
BUT THE JUDGE PUSHES HIM AWAY… THERE’S STILL FIGHT LEFT IN HIM!
VERDICT SPARTA KICK DROPS REAPER WHERE HE STANDS!
BUT THE JUDGE IS GOING FOR THE TURNBUCKLE COVER – HE RIPS IT OFF AND EXPOSES THE STEEL!
The Judge grabs Reaper and flings him onto his shoulders!
HOLY SHITBALLS!
FINAL JUDGEMENT!
REAPER’S SKULL IS CRUSHED INTO THE TURNBUCKLE!
THE JUDGE HAS KILLED THIS ONE WITH FIRE AND THE REAPER IS FUCKING DONE!
The Judge covers for the pin, putting this one away!
ONE!
…
…
…
TWO!
…
…
…
THERE’S NO GETTING OUT OF THIS ONE!
THREE!
THAT’S IT! THE JUDGE HAS DONE IT!
The Judge wins this slugfest! He took everything the Reaper threw at him, and turned it against him, including his own emotions. The Judge stands tall at the end of this story!
Applause.
The sound of rapturous applause abruptly greets us as if out of no-where.
In that moment, we’re no longer in The Slaughterhouse.
We’re somewhere entirely different.
A woman is stood on a stage in front of two doors and before her, a man in a suit stands with a smile as wide as can be. He holds before him a microphone that hangs from the ceiling.
It’s Monty Straight.
“Welcome to The Show That Never Ends, where the fun keeps going and the temptations are unknowing! I’m Monty Straight, and that’s exactly how I shoot it!”
She looks nervous.
“Today, we’re joined by the wife of Adam Rook who’s desperate to take her chances and save her husband’s life. Mrs. Rook, you’ve come to the right place for a miracle!”
Monty points to the first door.
“Behind door number one, you’ll get a chance to save your husbands life. He’s been slaving away at that business, hasn’t he? But he’s been bringing his work home without ever knowing it. You’ve received death threats – serious threats that will result in his demise. If you take this door, your husband will survive, but at the ultimate cost to your family.”
She gulps.
“I don’t blame you for wanting to put an end to that before it gets any worse! Whilst you consider that option, let’s look at door number two, shall we? Behind door number two, you’ll get a chance to save your husbands life, but not as the man you know. He’ll survive the murder attempt, albeit somewhat brain damaged – though there won’t be any further cost your family. In a roundabout way, you’ll still have your husband.”
Before you know it, Alexa Rook is crying. She’s stood in the middle of the stage, bawling her eyes out.
Monty, understandably, looks a little awkward.
She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes.
“The choice is yours,” Straight reminds her.
Alexa points to door number one.
“Fantastic choice! Well, Mrs. Rook, it’s been an absolute pleasure having you on the Show That Never Ends, but for you, there’s nothing left to do but walk through that door!”
The door mysteriously opens and she cautiously walks towards it, stopping at the door.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
The roaring sound of Reaper’s voice can be heard booming from the audience.
Both he and The Judge now sit there, watching.
Meanwhile, Monty looks on with a smile.
Just then, the façade drops. The memory is over. The audience vanish and the stage disappears. It’s just Straight, stood there looking at both The Reaper and The Judge.
“Ultimately, the choice was hers,” he says arrogantly. “She wanted to save your life, Adam. You should be thanking us both.”
He flashes them a wink.
Reaper rushes out of his chair but before he can even get to the aisle, Straight is gone. He looks back towards The Judge, who likewise vanishes.
Monty Straight is responsible for Reapers wife and family dying.
It was he who upset the balance of the universe.
It was he who traded their places.
Cut.
Both men circle each other in the middle of the ring – it’s the final time they’ll face and it’s at Red Snow.
The bell sounds and they charge towards one another, Redwing ducking a Clothesline and beginning to pummel Shark backwards.
The Shark however blocks a third right hand and kicks low, dropping to the ground for an uppercut.
That sends Redwing sprawling to the corner and The Shark has to be quick back to his feet to capitalize and is. He charges again, leaping with a Splash at the Caped Crusader.
NO-BODY HOME!
He ducks out of the way, sending The Blood Red Shark into the turnbuckle, chest first.
Redwing immediately spins him, pulling him close.
DOUBLE UNDERHOOK DDT!
THE RETURN TO ARKHAM!
NO!
BLOOD RED SHARK PUSHES OUT.
But here comes The Watchful Protector once more, running him into the corner with a Shoulder Barge.
ANOTHER.
ANOTHER.
ANOTHER.
He backs away, storming across the ring as quickly as he can to come barrelling back.
MASSIVE SPEAR!
NO!
THE SHARK MOVES, THIS TIME SENDING REDWING RIGHT INTO THE RINGPOST!
Crimson Justice immediately grabs his shoulder, pulling himself out of the corner only to have his arm grabbed by The Blood Red Shark!
HAMMERLOCK DDT!
BLOODMONEY!
NO!
THIS TIME REDWING DROPS LOW, SANDBAGGING THE MOVE!
Angry, Shark pulls him back up and over with a fierce Snap Suplex. He hits the canvas and immediately gets back to his feet, grabbing his enemy by the mask.
Brutal knees to the face follow, bouncing Redwing back across the canvas.
He tries to get back to his feet but here comes The Shark once again.
BASEBALL SLIDE!
HE SLIDES BENEATH REDWING, POPPING UP THE OTHER SIDE!
BACK DROP INTO THE TOP TURNBUCKLE!
JESUS CHRIST!
They both bounce away, but The Blood Red Shark simply turns to scoop him back up.
BUCKLE BOMB!
POWERBOMB INTO THE TOP TURNBUCKLE!
HE RUNS IMMEDIATELY INTO THE ROPES AS REDWING STUMBLES CENTRALLY…
HE DROPS TO A KNEE!
BLOODY MARY!
RUNNING SHINING WIZARD!
SHARK COVERS…
ONE…
…..
TWO….
….
THREE!
NO! KICK OUT BY THE CAPSED CRUSADER!
Shark doesn’t hesitate to get back into the action, grabbing Redwing by the legs, only to be kicked backwards. He runs again, being caught once more – this time doubling him over.
Redwing gets back to his feet and runs, leaping over the doubled Sharkman.
SUNSET FLIP!
PINFALL…
ONE…
…..
TWO….
A DOUBLE LEGCLAP TO THE HEAD BREAKS THE FALL!
Redwing rolls backwards as The Blood Shark sits up, LEAPING FORWARD WITH A KNEE TO THE FACE!
BEAUTIFUL!
He quickly slides to the outside, grabbing The Shark’s legs and turning him around so that he’s in position with the ring post. He pulls him as hard as he can, groin first into the steel, wrapping his leg around it repeatedly after for good measure.
Redwing gets back into the ring and pulls Shark back to his feet, turning him around and running back towards the turnbuckle!
THE KILLING JOKE!
RUNNING BULLDOG INTO THE TURNBUCKLE!
THAT HAS TO BE IT!
Redwing covers…
ONE…
…..
TWO….
THREE!
NO! KICK OUT BY THE BLOOD RED SHARK!
The Watchful Protector is back to his feet and pummelling down on The Shark.
“I’m trying to save you,” he growls, delivering shot after shot. “Just let me make this right!”
The Shark though lunges forward with a Headbutt, rocking his opponent.
ANOTHER.
He breaks free, both men getting back to their feet.
They lock up in the centre of the ring, twisting and turning for even an inch – but getting none.
Then comes the grappling right and lefts, each trying to find a gap to take advantage but they’re just so evenly matched.
Finally, Sharkman drags Redwing into position…
HAMMERLOCK DDT!
BLOODMONEY!
HE NAILED IT! HE NAILED IT!
SURELY THAT HAS TO BE ALL!
HE COVERS….
ONE…
…..
…..
…..
TWO….
…..
…..
…..
THREE!
…..
…..
…..
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!
KICK OUT! BILL KIRBY – REDWING, KICKS THE FUCK OUT!
The Blood Red Shark angrily slams his fists down on the canvas, getting back to his feet.
Oh, he’s mad now.
Redwing uses the ropes and gets back up..
Could we see the Feeding Frenzy?
He runs at him…
RIPCORD KNEE!
GODWATCH!
THAT STUMBLES THE SHARK!
REDWING RUSHES FORWARD, PULLING THE SHARK IN CLOSE…
RED JUSTICE!
BRAINBUSTER TO THE FUCKING KNEE!
HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!
HE’S GOTTA COVER… SURELY… HE’S GOTTA COVER..
BUT THE BLOOD RED SHARK, THAT UTTER FUCKING MONSTER IS STILL STIRRING ON THE CANVAS.
Redwing walks over to the corner and exposes the turnbuckle, moving himself across the ring as fast as he can.
Oh no…
The Shark is up, stumbling…
REDWING COMES STORMING ACROSS THE RING!
CLAYMORE KICK INTO THE FACE OF THE BLOOD RED SHARK, DRIVING HIM INTO THE FUCKING EXPOSED TURNBUCKLE!
OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!
KILL…
IT….
WITH….
FIREEEEEEEEEEE!!!
REDWING COVERS…
ONE…
…..
…..
…..
TWO….
…..
…..
…..
THREE!
…..
…..
…..
IT’S OVER! It’s finally over.
The Watchful Protector has beaten his man here tonight and finally edges closer to ending this saga.
The Caped Crusader reaches into his pocket and pulls out a vial, holding it up into the light.
“This is it,” he proclaims. “This is your cure.”
Shark tilts his head.
“Now listen to me Axel,” he begs. “I can’t tell you what’s gonna happen if you take it. All I can do is be honest.”
There’s a pause.
“D’Ville was the cure. His blood is the cure to his tonics. But if you drink this, if you choose to take your life back and put it in your own hands, it might be the last thing you do.”
“Why would I do that?” He growls. “Why?”
“This isn’t who you are, God damnit. You’re a Watchmen – you sacrificed everything to keep Old School Wrestling safe. You were a true hero who came back to save me. I did this to you and I’m sorry.”
Redwing approaches him cautiously.
“Don’t let this become your legacy,” he pleads. “Take back control of who you are, Axel.”
Shark head snaps towards him aggressively.
“Don’t call me that!”
The Caped Crusader grabs him forcibly by the mask, dragging their faces together.
He looks him in his dead glass eyes.
“I know you’re in there, Axel. I know that somewhere in that mess I made, you exist. Please, come back.”
The Shark pushes him away, running at him with a ginormous spear that sends him crashing to the canvas.
He begins delivering thunderous right hands after right hands, only out of the corner of his eye, he sees it.
Something changes.
He stops punching.
As if Axel had taken over for a moment, he reaches out, grabs the vial and jams it into his maw.
Immediately, he falls backwards, choking.
Redwing pops back up, rushing to his aide as The Blood Red Shark scrambles on the canvas, coughing and screaming.
He quickly grabs him, pulling him close, cradling him as he suffers through the torment of his transformation.
“I’m sorry,” Axel mutters. “I couldn’t fight it.”
“No, you fought well, old friend,” Redwing promises.
There’s a gnarly gurgle as Redwing dares to slowly remove his mask.
Only what greets us isn’t Axel the Shark.
It isn’t even The Blood Red Shark.
It’s a gruesome pile of gory mush.
Redwing immediately bursts into his tears, lowering his head.
He knows there’s no saving him.
“Fight well,” Axel gurgles. “Fight true.”
Then he fades away.
Right there in the arms of Redwing, Axel The Shark, The Sharkman, The Blood Red Shark… succumbs.
Axel fought back against the tonic that held him together and did so for long enough to do the right thing.
He took back his life, even if it meant ending it.
We focus on Redwing, who’s eyes are red and weeping. His mouth jitters and his nose twitches.
Finally, Axel can rest in peace.
But Bill Kirby will forever have to live with his culpability in all of this.
The Fire Witch has been tormenting The Dreamer for months now, burning her mind to ashes and posing a threat to Sweet Alice’s wonderland. But what does Pyre really want with Alice? Will The Dreamer get her answers if she can defeat Pyre and be all that remains?
Sweet Alice takes her upright stance, left arm extended, right arm close to her chest. Pyre begins to circle The Dreamer, the odd feint to try and goad Alice but the Wonderlander holds firm in her posture; her eyes fixed on The Fire Witch.
This stalemate continues for another 20 seconds or so before Pyre’s patience wears thin. She conjures a small flame and flicks it towards Alice and as The Dreamer dodges the fireball, Pyre moves but Alice composes herself and fends with a left jab, following up with a stiff right cross below the chin that stuns The Fire Witch. The Dreamer floors the off balance witch with a leg sweep and aims a snap jab at the Double Features champion but All That Remains rolls out of the way.
Both are on their feet. They come together in a collar-elbow tie-up, Alice using her technical skill to take the advantage with an arm twist, then a straight leg kick to the midsection that’s followed by an attempted leg lariat.
REVERSAL!!!
The Fire Witch catches The Dreamer and looks to POWERBOMB her!!!
COUNTER!!!
ALICE WITH A HURRICANRANA!!!
PIN ATTEMPT!!!
ONE!
.
TWO
.
KICKOUT!!!
Pyre rolls to her feet quickly and she wants to get on the attack. She runs at Alice and throws a big right.
BLOCKED!
The Fire Witch throws a big left.
BLOCKED!!!
HEADBUTT!!!
ALL THAT REMAINS DROPS THE DREAMER!!!
Pyre lifts Alice up by the hair, hoists The Dreamer up and then delivers SNAKE EYES on the top turnbuckle. Immediately followed by a back drop suplex, drilling The Dreamer into the mat!!
PYRE HOLDS FOR THE PINFALL!!!
ONE
.
TWO
.
SWEET ALICE KICKS OUT!!!
The Doubles Features Champions wastes no time. The Fire Witch has The Dreamer up, lifting a knee into her midsection then spiking her with a DDT. Another cover from Pyre but Sweet Alice again kicks out on two.
Alice crawls to the ropes and uses them to get back to her feet but Pyre grabs hold, rakes her eyes and then whips her towards the corner so the Rewind Champion is flopped over the middle turnbuckle face down. Pyre charges in and lands a reverse Bronco Buster, repeatedly pounding Alice’s face against the middle turnbuckle. The Fire Witch climbs to the top rope and stalks. The Dreamer gets to her feet and turns away from the turnbuckle.
DANCING FLAMES!!!
NO!!!
COUNTER!!!
THE DREAMER NAILS A MID-AIR ENZIGURI!!!
THE REWIND CHAMPION COVERS!!!
ONE
.
TWO
.
THR-
NO!!!
PYRE KICKS OUT!!!
Sweet Alice gets to her feet and she seems to be in some kind of trance. She begins…
HOPPING AROUND THE RING
.
LIKE A BUNNY!!!
.
TERRIBLY LATE!!!
NO!!!
THE FIRE WITCH ROLLS AWAY!!!
.
AWAKENING!!!
PYRE HAS THAT DRAGON SLEEPER LOCKED IN!!!
SWEET ALICE IS IN DESPERATE TROUBLE!!!
She is indeed. The Dreamer is short of the ropes, although she is flailing around trying to get her right hand on one. Pyre does everything she can to crank the hold, apply as much pressure. Soon Alice’s arms stop flailing and drop to the canvas. The whole of her body seems prone.
The ref raises Sweet Alice’s arm.
IT DROPS!!!
ONE!!!
.
STRIPES REPEATS!
.
DEADWEIGHT FLESH HITS THE MAT!!!
.
TWO!!!
.
PYRE IS A MOMENT FROM VICTORY!!!
.
THE OFFICIAL RAISES THE DREAMER’S RIGHT ARM FOR THE THIRD AND FINAL TIME!
.
HE LETS IT GO!
.
THREE-
.
NO!!!
.
THE DREAMER KEEPS HER ARM RAISES INCHES OFF THE CANVAS
.
AND RAISES IT HIGH INTO THE AIR!!!
Pyre tries to tighten the hold again but Sweet Alice pushes up with her feet and arches her back, using her shoulders to pin down Pyre’s against the canvas. The referee drops down and counts.
ONE!
.
TWO!
.
NO!!!
Pyre releases her lock to save herself and pushes Sweet Alice off her.
The Dreamer is on her hands and knees, gasping for air. Pyre gets up and levels a kick into her ribs. Alice rolls away, Pyre runs at her and tries to boot her again.
COUNTER!!!
ALICE CATCHES THE FIRE WITCH’S LEG!!!!
Sweet Alice tackles Pyre and stands over her, leaning in, punching as Pyre tries to block.
Pyre forces herself back to a vertical base, The Dreamer grabs the witch from behind.
TEA PARTY!!!
NO!!!
COUNTER!!!
MULE KICK FROM PYRE!!!
Pyre runs to the ropes and slingshots looking for a lionsault.
THE DREAMER CATCHES PYRE!!!
BODY SLAM!!!
HOPPITY-HOP!!!
TERRIBLY LATE!!!
SWEET ALICE NAILS THE LEG DROP!!!
ONE!
.
TWO!
.
THRE-
NO!!!
SHOULDER UP!!!
Both competitors get to their feet, Alice grabs Pyre but All That Remains spins and grabs The Dreamer’s head with both hands. Alice issues an anguished scream that chills every soul in the audience.
WHAT IS THIS?!
As a screaming Alice drops to her knees the glow of Pyre’s hands becomes noticeable.
PYRE IS BOILING SWEET ALICE’S BRAIN!!!
Tears of blood begin to roll down Alice’s face and Pyre grins.
SUDDENLY…
Alice’s scream changes in tone from pain to rage and she summons a force to throw off Pyre’s hands.
SWEET ALICE BROKE THE SPELL!!!
The Dreamer gets back to her feet and unloads strike after strike on The Fire Witch. Irish whip into the ropes, Pyre slingshots off the middle rope…
DANCING FLAMES!!!
PYRE CONNECTS!!!
ONE!
.
TWO!
.
THREE!!
All that remains is The Fire Witch, victorious over The Dreamer tonight.
Static.
Alice gets back to her feet, groggily, picking up her book.
Static.
With every wave of static, the scenery before her changes.
Static.
It’s flickering back and forth between Old School Wrestling and what appears to be Wonderland.
One moment, it’s hundreds of fans in attendance, sitting around The Slaughterhouse.
Static.
The next, it’s the Red Queen’s castle and those watching are citizens of Wonderland.
Sweet Alice shakes her head, thinking she’s gone mad.
“I told you, I didn’t want to destroy your book,” Pyre says, getting back to her feet. “But I wanted to do something spectacular.”
“What have you done?” Alice queries, terrified of what she’s seeing.
Static.
“The Red Queen has never been able capture and punish you in Wonderland,” Pyre announces, approaching confidently. “So, I stole your book and cast a spell.”
The Fire Witch smiles.
“What you’re seeing is a fractured reality, dear Alice. Only we can see it. Wonderland and The Slaughterhouse have combined to become one in the same.”
Static.
“No!” She bellows. “You don’t know what you’ve done.”
“I’ve taken us both down the rabbit hole,” Pyre says sinisterly. “Can you navigate the fracture?”
Static.
Within moments, another fracture occurs in Alice’ mind, turning Pyre into The Red Queen herself.
“It’s,” she mutters, pausing. “… You?”
Pyre smiles.
“In Old School Wrestling, I’m Pyre,” The Red Queen says, glitching back to the aforementioned shortly thereafter. “And in Wonderland, I’m your Red Queen.”
Poor Alice doesn’t know what to do.
Static.
Until that is, that Pyre storms at her.
She quickly swings with her book, knocking Pyre unconscious with one giant swoop. Alice stumbles backwards, absolutely terrified as the fracture continues glitching in and out.
Static.
She must escape.
Static.
Cut.
A hatred to moves beyond mere words, Alton Whitlock and BEG have been locked in a deadly game since the very birth of the Slaughterhouse. Through imperical ruling and anonymity, sparks of war have threatened to burn both men down to their very core as it all ends tonight. Will BEG finally destroy his hated enemy or can Alton Whitlock end the poison of BEG once and for all?
The bell doesn’t even get to ring before Whitlock rushes BEG, spearing him down to the mat and mounting him with furious lefts and rights, breaking his glasses but not the smirk that is etched upon his face, not for the lack of trying from Alton who just punches faster and furiouser before BEG casually grabs hold of the rope.
The referee yells at Alton, threatening to disqualify him if he doesn’t let up as Whitlock reluctantly does, not wanting his revenge to end prematurely. BEG lets go of the ropes as Alton pulls him up to his feet
THUMB TO THE EYE!
BEG nearly takes Alton’s eye out with that vicious move, the ref admonishing BEG but Berkshire just chuckles, delivering a hard kick to the ribs of the fallen Whitlock before continuing to kick over and over into Alton’s ribs, causing the Candidate to crumple up in pain. Green dropping down as he locks in a tight oxygen depriving waist lock trying to grind Whitlock into the mat.
Whitlock screams out in pain as Green locks himself around Alton’s midsection, crunching his ribs from the constriction as he delivers hammer blocks down onto Whitlock’s chest. Whitlock struggles under the hold but brings his head back down, clashing with BEG as it stuns him for a moment, allowing Whitlock to slip out enough to bridge back into a pinfall
ONE
…..
KICKOUT!
BEG lets go of the hold, delivering a hard knee to the side of the head of a rising Alton before rushing to the ropes right into
BICYCLE KICK!
Whitlock nearly kicks BEG’s head off, who doesn’t go down, instead tumbling through the ropes to the floor below as Alton quickly follows. BEG is stumbling on his feet right into a hard right hand from Alton before he grabs BEG by the back of the head, rushing forward to the ringposts
REVERSED!
BEG slips out the last second, pushing Alton forward as Whitlock collides skull first with the steel. Alton is still on his feet, a trickle of blood dripping down his face that becomes a lot more as Berkshire steps forward
YAKUZA KICKING ALTON INTO THE POST!
The steel is stained with Alton’s blood as BEG rolls the limp Alton into the ring but he’s not done as he picks up a steel chair from ringside before rolling it in. BEG watches Alton slowly trying to pick himself before lifting the chair and nearly breaking it over Alton’s back. Whitlock screams in pain, BEG slamming it down over and over onto Whitlock’s unprotected back.
BEG stops the assault for a moment, setting the chair up in a seated position before picking up Whitlock
CHAIR ASSISTED BACKBREAKER!
Whitlock is screaming in pain, the steel nearly snapping his spine in half as BEG drops down for the lackadaisical cover.
ONE
…..
……
TWO
…..
……
………
ALTON JUST GETS THE SHOULDER UP!
BEG is undeterred, setting up the chair again before picking up Alton, trying to throw him across the ring but Whitlock counters
DROP TOE HOLD ON THE STEEL CHAIR!
Whitlock counters out of nowhere, dropping BEG face first onto the steel as Alton tries to follow up, pulling BEG up to his feet but his back spasms in pain, allowing BEG to land a hard kick to the back of Alton’s leg
CHIP OFF THE OL’ BLOCK ON THE STEEL CHAIR! BULLDOG ON THE STEEL!
Alton’s blood continues to flow, staining the canvas now as BEG just smiles viciously, dropping down
THE FINANCIAL CRISIS!
BEG locks in the Crossface on Alton, wrapping both arms around his neck as Whitlock screams in pain, agony wracking his body but he won’t tap out to Berkshire, he refuses to lose to this son of a bitch. Using all his strength, he slowly drags himself to the ropes even with all 200 pounds of BEG holding him back
BEFORE BEG LEAPS UP, DROPPING BOTH KNEES INTO ALTON’S BACK!
BEG keeps both knees in Alton’s back, arching back as he starts to break Whitlock in goddamn half. Whitlock screams in pain even more as the blood begins to flow and he begins to fade under the intense agony.
Whitlock goes limp under the hold as the referee grabs his arm, lifting it up high before letting it go
ONCE IT DROPS
TWICE IT DROPS
THREE TIMES…..WHITLOCK SCREAMS IN RAGE!
Fury in Alton’s eyes, months and months of mindgames and hell from this asshole flood through his mind, powering him forward even as BEG tries to cave in his spine. Alton leaps forward with a burst of strength
GRABBING THE ROPES AS HE BREAKS THE HOLD!
BEG reluctantly lets go of the crossface at the count of four, fury and frustration on his face as he was sure that would’ve been it. He paces the ring, trying to calm himself before reaching down and pulling his belt off. Wrapping the end around his fist
BEFORE WHIPPING THE RISING WHITLOCK WITH IT!
BEG whips Alton over and over, Whitlock crying out in pain from each blow as BEG screams with each blow
WHY
SMACK
WON’T
SMACK
YOU
SMACK
JUST
SMACK
DIE?
SMA….ALTON CATCHES THE BELT!
BEG tries to free the belt but Alton is shaking with rage, fire burning in his eyes as he pulls BEG close, rattling his skull with a hard headbutt before wrapping his leg around BEG’S head
PARTY POLITICS!
BEG crashes to the mat but Whitlock isn’t done as he pulls BEG up to his feet, lifting him up high
BETTER WORLD!
The Vertebreaker hits hard, BEG looks done but Alton isn’t. Still holding the belt in his hand, he drops down, wrapping it around BEG’s throat
FINANCIAL CRISIS!
Alton locks in the crossface this time, BEG screaming out in pain as he tries to withstand the pain but Whitlock is basically choking the life out of him so he’s forced very reluctantly to tap out!
Alton Whitlock does it, finally ending this war with BEG as he had to go to a dark place but this may be what he needed to expunge the demon off his back once and for all.
The Politician makes his way through the crowd towards the tunnels behind them, looking to make his exit back into Hells Kitchen. There’s a parking lot outside and he’s making his way there.
As he steps outside into the cold snowing New York City night, he’s stopped by a man wearing a hood.
“We need to talk,” the man says, ushering him to follow with a slight nod.
Alton frowns at him; exhausted, but surely in no mood to trust a stranger.
“You don’t understand, you’re in great danger,” he abruptly says. “Now follow me.”
“No,” Whitlock grunts. “Listen to me, I’ve had enough of the games. I just spent over a year of my life being played by Berkshire Elision Green. I’m getting into my limousine; I’m heading to the airport and I’m getting out of this country.”
The man shakes his head.
“You won’t make it that far. If you leave this place, you won’t ever come back.”
Whitlock scoffs, storming off to his limousine with an arm tossed aside with disregard.
He opens the door and gets inside, winding down the window.
“If I don’t come back, then good riddance. I won’t miss this place.”
The man tosses him a coin that Alton surprisingly catches. It’s abrupt, it’s odd and it happens fast.
“What’s this?” He asks.
The man doesn’t say a word.
He just walks away.
Alton slips the coin into his breast pocket and leans forward, tapping on the window.
“Take me home, driver.”
The engine starts.
Click.
Click.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMM!!
A violent explosion sends a shockwave out across New York City as the limousine blasts into a fireball.
The back door opens, Alton Whitlock falling out from inside to hit the pavement with a crash.
He’s on fire.
Men and women rush to his aide, slapping their coats down across his back to put out the flames.
It takes what seems like forever to douse them away, steam coming from his head resting face first on the ice-cold ground.
Someone turns him over, revealing that he’s still conscious.
Half of his face burned.
His screaming echoes throughout the night as ambulances sound in the distance.
Cut.
The cellar door suddenly opens and in steps a figure that we don’t get to see. That person approaches the man, placing a hot cup of tea beside him on the table.
“We kept records on everything,” the person – a man, now says. “Someone had to document it. It’s a small part of our mission.”
“I-I can’t believe what I’m reading,” the other man replies. “How have I been so lost?”
“Yahweh brought everyone back. Some found their path away from Old School Wrestling by choice; others, such as yourself, were purposefully led away.”
The man lowers his head shamefully.
“The things I did,” he mutters.
“He still brought you back, D’von.”
What?
This is D’von Chambers!?
“He wiped your memory to give you another chance, but we need your help. Yahweh has been forgotten by many, as all the Gods of old have. We’re searching for a way to bring him back.”
D’von doesn’t understand.
“How can I be of assistance to you?” He questions. “Until now, I didn’t know who I truly was. I’ve been in your library, reading and sorting your books until I stumbled across this.”
“You didn’t stumble across us or that book,” the man replies earnestly. “We brought you here, we took you in and we gave you a purpose. When the time was right, I made sure you had access to this book.”
That surprises Chambers, who reaches for his cup of tea and takes a sip.
“When the time is right, we will reveal ourselves to the world; but in the meantime, we need you to do something extraordinary.”
“What?” Chambers asks. “What do you need?”
“We need you to go back to Old School Wrestling. We need you to remember who you are.”
D’von nods.
Cut.
THE SANDMAN vs. JESSIE WILLIAMS
Jessie Williams has been on a mission to find his father, and believes he may have finally done it. With Jimmy Sartyr by his side, he’s going to invade The Sandman’s dungeon and find out!
Darkness.
Light floods our senses as a door opens. Jessie Williams and Jimmy Sartyr are stood in the doorway, the light of the sun behind them. They walk inside, and the door slams shut behind them with a thud.
As their eyes adjust, it becomes apparent that this dungeon of The Sandman is lit by candlelight, either on poles or set up on fixtures near the ceiling.
But neither man cares about any of that. All they can see is what’s around them.
Cells.
Countless cells.
Nearly all of them are filled with people.
“What the fuck?” Jessie mutters.
Jimmy walks over to look at one of the cells, at the prisoner inside. The Innovator just shakes his head in horror at what they’re seeing. Jessie joins him, and the pair seem struck by it before Jessie nods his head.
“Let’s explore this place, find dad, then free all these people.”
SANDMAN RISES UP BEHIND THEM! THEY TURN AROUND TO FACE HIM..
HE BASHES THEIR HEADS TOGETHER, THROWING JIMMY TO THE SIDE LIKE A PIECE OF MEAT!
HANDS WRAPPED AROUND JESSIE’S THROAT, HE DRIVES HIM TOWARD AN EMPTY CELL!
The Dream Demon throws Jessie into the cell, and grabs the gate to close him in, the bag carried by Jessie far out of his reach.
BUT JESSIE LEAPS TO STOP IT FROM SHUTTING!
The pair are locked in war over this gate.
“At last,” Sandman taunts. “You’ve come!”
With dirt on his face and rage in his eyes, Jessie Williams grits his teeth and pushes with all his might against The Sandman. At first it seems futile.
Then the gate budges.
Sandman seems surprised at Jessie’s fortitude as the Prince pushes back. Luckily for Jessie, he’s not in this alone.
WHAM! SHOVEL TO THE HEAD OF THE SANDMAN FROM JIMMY SARTYR!
Sandman staggers backwards, still on his feet, while Jessie and Jimmy take off down the hall of prison cells.
With a crooked swagger, The Sandman begins to give chase.
JIMMY SARTYR IS TAKEN DOWN BY SANDMAN!
Jessie continues to run down what appears to be an endless dungeon of prisoners. Finally, he comes to a dead end and a door. With a smile, he approaches the door, but stops when he looks down.
A shovel lays there.
The same one Jimmy used on The Sandman.
He’s run in a circle.
Somehow.
THE SANDMAN IS BACK! HE THROWS JESSIE UP AGAINST THE DOOR WITH ALL HIS MIGHT. HIS THUMBS GO STRAIGHT FOR THE EYES OF THE PRINCE!
Williams tries to fight it, but Sandman’s thumbs are brushing his eye lashes.
“Let him go, you son of a bitch.”
SHOVEL TO THE HEAD OF THE SANDMAN AGAIN FROM JIMMY SARTYR!
Sandman has still not left his feet, turning to go after Sartyr, but Jessie uses the opportunity to look at his fallen bag.
ANOTHER SHOVEL SHOT! TO NO EFFECT!
Sandman grabs Sartyr, making him drop the shovel. He pulls him in close.
“Good night.”
Sandman turns to see Jessie leaping in the air at him.
THE BOOMSTICK FLIES FROM HIS BAG TO HIS HAND
BOOYAH!
SANDMAN IS DOWN!
SANDMAN HAS FINALLY BEEN TAKEN DOWN!
Williams and Sartyr exchange a look. They seem to reach a silent agreement.
Sandman begins to rise up, and the pair get on either side of the Dream Demon. He rushes after Jessie, who drops down, using the brutal drop toe hold to slam Sandman up against the bars of a cell.
KNEE TO THE BACK OF SANDMAN’S HEAD FROM JIMMY SARTYR!
MODIFIED THRILLRIDE!
SANDMAN’S HEAD IS STUCK BETWEEN THE CELL BARS!
With a captive enemy, Jessie and Jimmy begin teeing off on the Dream Demon.
“Where’s my dad!?” Jessie roars as he pummels Sandman’s roaring face.
Meanwhile, Jimmy Sartyr is mostly just holding Sandman’s body in place while Jessie does his thing.
“You killed my uncle.” Jessie says, slapping Sandman’s face with his non-guantleted hand.
BOOYAH!
“You have my dad.”
BOOYAH!
“I’m going to fucking kill you.”
Jessie looks behind him, and starts to power up his gauntlet.
BUT SANDMAN INVERTS HIS ARMS AND GRABS JIMMY! HIS HEAD POPS OUT OF THE CELL DOOR!
DEEP SLEEP TO JIMMY SARTYR! THE END OF DAYS HAS COME FOR THE INNOVATOR OF OVATION!
Jessie rushes out of the cell, but the Dream Demon was ready. He grabs Jessie and pulls him in.
HE’S GOT HIM UP ON HIS SHOULDERS UPSIDE DOWN!
HE CAN’T!
SANDMAN LEAPS INTO THE AIR!
AND COMES DOWN WITH THE KINNIKU BUSTER!
SLEEP PARALYSIS!
HE’S KILLED JESSIE WILLIAMS WITH FIRE!
The Sandman rises up, looking down at the fallen Jessie Williams and Jimmy Sartyr and with what looks like a twisted smile vanishes.
The Sandman has defeated his foe, but why hasn’t he finished them? What does he have planned?
Jessie Williams pulls himself back to his feet, holding his mid-section. He’s hurt, but he isn’t stopping.
He walks over to Jimmy and helps him back to his feet.
“We need to search these cells,” Williams beckons, walking down the aisle with Sartyr in tow.
As they carefully walk down the middle, looking inside each cell as they pass, what they witness is nothing but a Horrorshow.
Civilians; mothers, daughters, fathers and sons of all ages are hanging by their bound wrists from the ceiling. They’re all hooked up to tubes – feeding tubes, oxygen tubes and fluids.
They’re being kept alive.
Jimmy and Jessie share a look of absolute terror as they slowly pass through.
Until they stop.
Until Jessie stops.
Because there he is, hanging inside a cell like the rest of them.
Ashley Williams.
Jessie frantically rushes towards the cell door, flinging it open with everything he has. Once inside, he starts trying to rouse his father, but nothing seems to be happening.
Clink.
Clink.
Clink.
The sound of someone dragging something along metal bars can be heard, freezing both men in their tracks.
Coming down the hall with his pliers in hand is none other than The Sandman. He’s dragging those metal pliers across the cell bars as he approaches.
William’s quickly starts disabling the attachments on his father. He’s pulling out tubes and wires, trying to disconnect him from whatever this place is.
He turns to face Jimmy, absolutely panic stricken.
“Don’t stop, I’ll keep him distracted,” Sartyr says bravely.
As Jessie continues what he’s doing, Sartyr steps out into the aisle.
“I’m sorry, this isn’t the Dentist,” he quips. “You might wanna check the other set of creepy cells.”
The Sandman rushes at him, clobbering him upside the head with the pliers, busting him wide open.
He begins his walk towards the cell door, only for Sartyr to grab at him by the legs, clutching him for dear life.
Try as he might, The Terror can’t seem to displace him. He reaches down and grabs him by the throat, dragging him to his knees abruptly.
With pliers in hand, he brutally slams them downward.
Crunch.
Jimmy welps helplessly, but still doesn’t go down.
Crunch.
Jesus Christ, just go down.
But he doesn’t.
It takes another blow, and another, until the next time The Sandman pulls his pliers back up, they’re covered in skull fragments and hair.
Jimmy Sartyr now lays at his feet, arms wrapped limply around his legs – a gaping hole in his head.
Jessie walks out of the room holding Ash up, just in time to witness that terrifying scene.
He lowers his head shamefully and stumbles his father away.
The Sandman meanwhile kicks Sartyr off and storms towards the cell, only Ash and Jessie are gone.
Jimmy Sartyr made the ultimate sacrifice.
He bought Jessie time to save his father, at the cost of his own life.
Cut.
BRENT KERSH vs. TANK KERSH
Here it is. Father v Son. Legend v Legacy. The Enforcer v The Olympian. Brent v Tank. Kersh v Kersh. The loser must leave OSW. Forever.
DING! DING!
There is a strange atmosphere inside The Slaughterhouse. The faithful do not know who to call for, whether to cheer or boo. The same emotional conflict lives inside the minds of these two competitors. Brent and Tank circle each other in the ring. There is nervous agitation in Tank’s movements. His father looks passive. Tank moves in and offers a lock-up but Brent drops to one knee, his head bowed from his son’s gaze.
The Olympian looks confused. He lifts his father, The Enforcer, back to a vertical base and calls on him to engage. Brent stands stoically. Tank pushes him. More of a nudge really. Brent is unmoved. Tank reluctantly gives his father a knife-edge chop to the chest. The Enforcer feels the blow, but he stands proudly. Tank grabs his hair with both hands and lets out an agonised roar. He pushes his Brent again. Firmer this time. The Enforcer does not react.
Confusion mixed with the emotional charge twists into frustration and Tank lashes out with a stiff right to Brent’s face. The Enforcer takes the blow but he’s still just standing there. Tank grabs his father’s arm, whips him into the ropes and drops him to the canvas with a clothesline.
There is some hissing from the crowd, but from the back of bleachers a chant is gathering momentum. Tank hears it and he gestures for the entire crowd to join in.
“WE WANT BRENT”
The Enforcer is back on his feet. Tank pushes him and calls on his dad to fight. Brent looks around The Slaughterhouse at his people, he can hear the call himself.
“WE WANT BRENT!”
But The Enforcer turns his back on Tank and walks to the nearest corner, leaning on the ropes with his arms. Tank marches over, spins Brent around and drives a right fist into his gut. Brent collapses to the mat, seated in the turnbuckle. Tank backs off, hoping for a reaction. He gets nothing. The Legacy shakes his head in disbelief.
Brent, seated, stares into space, in the direction of the bleachers. His attention is captured by a young boy, maybe 11 or 12 years old. The boy is wearing a Brent Kersh t-shirt. There are tears streaming down the young fan’s face. Something inside Brent shifts, suddenly his ears are flooded.
“WE WANT BRENT!”
The Enforcer rises to his feet. The crowd pops. Tank smiles. The Enforcer moves out of the corner in the direction of his son. Collar-elbow tie-up and a pop unlike anything you’ve ever heard inside The Slaughterhouse.
Brent backs Tank onto the ropes but The Olympian has the strength to push off The Enforcer. They break away and merge again. This time Tank launches his father against the ropes. A big swing of the arm from Tank, Brent ducks and arms drags his son to the canvas. Tank is up quickly, but Brent is all over him.
GERMAN SUPLEX!!!
THE ENFORCER ROLLING BACK THE YEARS!!!
PIN ATTEMPT!!
.
ONE!
.
TWO!
.
TANK POWERS OUT!!
When both get to their feet Brent tries to whip Tank, but The Olympian ripcords The Enforcer and hits him with a knee to the mid-section, lifting Brent high above his head.
THE HAY BARREL!!!
HERE IT COMES!!!
TANK CRASHES BRENT INTO THE MAT WITH THE GORILLA PRESS SLAM!!!
The Olympian looks down at his fallen father, the turmoil in his eyes. Almost reluctantly, he drops to his knees and hooks the legs…
ONE!
.
TWO!
.
KICKOUT!!!
Tank lifts Brent to his feet but out of nowhere…
SMALL PACKAGE!!!
BRENT HAS TANK WRAPPED UP!!!
ONE!
.
TWO!
.
THR-NO!!!
.
TANK ESCAPES!!!
Both men are back on their feet again. Brent urges Tank to come at him. The Olympian charges.
DROP TOE HOLD!!!
LONE STAR!!!
BRENT HAS THE FIGURE FOUR LOCKED IN!!!
Tank is crying out in agony but he is close to the ropes and he quickly scoots on his backside and closes the distance, allowing him to grab the bottom rope with both hands. Brent is first to his feet, he moves as Tank starts to rise…
OLYMPIC SLAM!!!
TANK CAUGHT HIS FATHER BY SURPRISE!!!
A COVER!!!
ONE!
.
TWO
.
THREE-
.
IS THE ENFORCER’S TIME UP!!?
.
NO!!!
HE KICKED OUT!!!
Tank clutches his head with frustration. Why won’t this stubborn son of a bitch quit?
IT’S BRENT FUCKING KERSH, THAT’S WHY!!!
Tank didn’t want to go this far with his father, but he realises now he has to. He’s standing over Brent, stalking him. The Enforcer rises, Tank gives himself the space for the charge.
TANKED!!!!
NO!!!
BRENT DODGED!!!
RUNNING GORE STRAIGHT INTO THE CORNER POST BY THE LEGACY!!!
There is an anguished look on Brent’s face but he knows deep down inside what he needs to do here. Despite the pain it will cause him.
Brent drags Tank out of the corner.
SHOULDERBREAKER!!!
INTO THE TOMBSTONE PILEDRIVER!!!
BRENT KERSH HAS JUST GIVEN HIS OWN FLESH AND BLOOD SOME SOUTHERN DISCOMFORT!!!
ONE!
.
TWO!
.
THE ENFORCER’S LEGEND LIVES ON!!
.
NO!!!!
WHAT IN THE NAME OF!!!
TANKED KICKS OUT ON THE LAST STRESS OF THE ‘EE’!!!!
Brent cannot believe it. But he’s smiling because actually he can believe it. It is his blood that courses through his son’s veins after all.
The Enforcer lifts Tank up and sets him up.
A SECOND SOUTHERN DISCOMFORT!!!
REVERSAL!!!
TANK WITH THE BANK DODY DROP!!
Brent gets up.
TANKED!!!!
THE RUNNING GORE!!!!
HE TIME TRAVELLED WITH THAT IMPACT!!!
ONE!
.
IT’S SURELY OVER!!!
.
TWO!!!
.
BRENT KERSH’S BOOKED IS CLOSED!!!
.
THREE!
.
NO!!!
.
HE KICKED OUT!!!
THE ENFORCER ACTUALLY KICKED OUT!!!
There are tears in Tank’s eyes. Now he’s imploring his father to stay down. The Olympian hoists The Enforcer onto his shoulder and places him on the top turnbuckle. Tank pauses, he’s having second thoughts about what he is going to do.
TANK IS CLIMBING UP THERE WITH BRENT!
HOLY SHIT! WHAT IS THE SON GOING TO DO THE FATHER HERE?
NO WAY!!!
NO FUCKING WAY!!!!
HOLY SHIIIIIIIIIIIT!!!!
CANADIAN DESTROYER!!!!!
FROM THE TOP ROPE!!!!
TANK KERSH HAS ANNIHILATED HIS FATHER!!!!
Brent Kersh is prone on the mat. Tank flops onto him, draped over The Enforcer’s body like he is embracing his father with apology.
ONE!
.
.
TWO!!
.
.
THREE!!!
It is finally over. Tank Kersh has beaten Brent Kersh. There isn’t a dry eye in the house.
That crunch was heard around the world.
It was deafening.
Brent Kersh lays on his back on the canvas, looking up at the blinding bright white lights as Tank quickly approaches.
He lost the match.
His OSW career is over.
“Dad?” He calls out. “Dad!?”
Kersh gulps.
He tries to move but can’t. His arms flail but his torso won’t go anywhere.
Tank immediately panics.
“No,” he cries. “It can’t be. Not like this. Not me.”
Brent doesn’t understand.
Paramedics begin rushing towards the ring with their stretchers and kit, sliding in to help Brent as Tank stands up and begins pacing, audibly crying.
Michaela Lane rushes down to the ring to console him.
Tank can barely stand to look at his father as the paramedics struggle to load him onto a backboard.
He quickly rushes over, scooping his dad off the ground into his arms, placing him upon it. Michaela quickly grabs him, pulling him back to face her.
“He never told me what happened,” he says to Michaela. “He would never say. All this time, all that suffering; it was me who did it. I’m the one who paralyzed my dad.”
Michaela can’t believe it either.
“I ended his career. I put him in the wheelchair I’ve spent my entire life moving him in and out of; resenting him, hating him for putting Old School Wrestling first. My mom’s accident, having to work after dad couldn’t…”
He breaks down again.
“And all along it was me?”
“You weren’t to know,” Michaela reminds him. “You had no idea.”
As the EMT’s have Kersh up on the backboard, a legend of Old School Wrestling – Tank watches as the crowd stand on their feet with the loudest ovation you could imagine.
He reaches out with one hand, clutching his son by the arm.
“I’m sorry dad,” he cries. “I’m so sorry.”
Kersh smiles.
He fucking smiles.
“I love you, son,” he says softly. “If anyone can survive this place, it’s you. I know that now.”
Tank rubs the tears away from his eyes, but they keep streaming.
“You can’t change the future, just like you can’t change the past,” Kersh reminds him. “I’m never gonna tell you about this day, son. I’m just proud that I could see the man you’ve become. Be a Kersh, be honourable, have integrity, but most of all, be better than I ever was.”
The EMT’s rush Brent Kersh out of the ring, leaving Tank to be consoled by Michaela.
The father and son war has ended tonight.
The way it always ended.
The way it was always going to end.
Brent Kersh won’t ever be seen in an Old School Wrestling ring again.
Take that in for a moment.
It’s the end of an era.
“Thank you Kersh!”
“Thank you Kersh!”
“Thank you Kersh!”
As the fans ring out, they salute The Enforcer one last time.
As should we all.
What could have been a beautiful friendship shattered by an unquentionable desire for power. Will Voynich have the strength to do what is right or will the Collector overwhelm his former brother in arms?
The bell sounds, both men circling the ring as Voynich still looks hesitant to fight his friend, a hesitation Sigil quickly takes advantage of. He rushes forward, ducking under a right hand before delivering a skull rattling knee to the side of the head. Voynich staggers back before he’s forced over Sigil’s knee.
AND SHOWN THE LONG ROAD AHEAD!
Sigil nearly caves in Voynich’s face with those vicious elbows, a final driving one sending him crashing to the mat, a thin trickle of blood oozing down his forehead. Voynich tries to get to his feet but barely manages to flip over before a hard punt kick to the ribs robs his lungs of its air.
Voynich sits up, gasping for air as Sigil rushes forward, trying for another running punt but Voynich manages to duck under, hooking Sigil as he rolls the Collector down into a crucifix pin
ONE
….
TWO
….. KICKOUT!
Sigil slips out of the pinfall, rolling back before delivering a stiff knee to an unsuspecting Voynich. He tries to pull the younger man to his feet but Voynich finally fights back, unleashing a hard headbutt that Sigil feels even through the mask, staggering back as Voynich gets to his feet.
Sigil leans forward, trying for a right that’s blocked before Voynich begins unleashing a flurry of blows to his friend. Rights, lefts, hooks, uppercuts all capped with a furious double knee to the stomach that has to have cracked a few ribs of the Collector as Sigil drops to one knee before Voynich rushes to the ropes.
ISHTAR GATE!
The running Lariat nearly takes Sigil’s head off as Voynich just pulls him up to his feet, delivering another pair of devastating knees before lifting him up high.
MONOLI….COSMIC LEAP!
FINITE!
Roundhouse kick out of nowhere to the side of the head, Voynich isn’t down but he’s out on his feet as Sigil leaps over the ropes onto the apron, jumping up high as he springboards off the top rope
LARIAAATTTOOOOO!!!!
Voynich clocks Sigil with that out of nowhere, spinning Sigil like Spike Dudley taking an F-5 from Brock Lesnar as the Collector crashes to the mat. But Voynich doesn’t cover, knowing he needs more to put down a competitor like Sigil as he pulls the Collector up by the head before rushing forward.
EIGHTH WONDER!
Voynich hits the Sliced Bread perfectly as he drops down and hooks both legs for the cover,
ONE
…..
…..
TWO
…..
…….
………..
THREE….?
……
……
NO. KICKOUT!!!
Sigil just gets the shoulder up as Voynich takes a deep breath, trying to avoid frustration as he pulls the Collector up once more only for him to slip through his hands.
FINITE! COSMIC LEAP!
DOUBLE FINITE!
In a manner of seconds, Sigil delivers a Roundhouse to both sides of Voynich, nearly cracking the young man’s skull open from the sheer force but he’s not done as he rolls back, gripping the ropes in the corner as he begins shaking them in anticipation before rushing forward.
PLANESWALKER!
Voynich goes flying into the corner, what was once a small cut is now a river blood pouring down Voynich’s skull as the young man dons the proverbial crimson mask. He collapses to the mat, completely spent as Sigil casually walks over before covering.
ONE
…..
…..
TWO
…..
…….
………..
THREE….?
……
……
…….
VOYNICH GETS THE SHOULDER UP!!!
Sigil is shocked for a moment, silently chuckling beside him for a moment before his gaze turns to his satchel…and an evil thought comes to his mind.
He slowly walks over to the satchel, reaching in with both arms inside the almost infinite void before pulling out an artifact from within and as Sigil rises to his feet, he twirls a very familiar weapon in his right hand.
Gleaming silvery steel of arthurian creation, the razor sharp edge of Excalibur hungers for blood, a hunger that the Collector seems eager to sate.
Voynich wipes the blood away from his eyes, looking up to see Sigil slowly stalking forward with murderous intent as he scrambles backwards before hitting the steel buckles. Sigil simply shaking his head as he slowly walks forward,
Sorry kid, you’re just in my way. I’ll only enjoy this a little.
Sigil chuckles before raising the sword high, Voynich reaching out with his hands as his eyes close.
And the satchel begins shaking violently.
Sigil stops, turning to his satchel which begins to glow. Softly at first before growing to a violent white that blinds the Collector for a moment before something flies out of the void and thumps hard into Voynich’s hand.
Sigil turns to see a hammer most devine crashing forward, shattering the legendary sword with one almighty swing.
Volsungr’ has arrived once more in OSW
And it has declared Voynich most worthy.
A fact that the young man takes to heart, delivering a hard rising strike to the jaw of Sigil that sends him flying into the corner, the Collector’s mask the only thing protecting him from the mighty blow.
Voynich stalks forward, Sigil scrambling backwards as he digs into his satchel, trying to find something to protect him before grasping onto something….familiar
Voynich raises the hammer high before bringing it down hard just as Sigil blocks it with a blood red crowbar. Sigil gets to his feet as he squares off with Voynich, two of the most iconic weapons in OSW history in each others hands before they rush forward.
Sigil ducks under a hard shot before smacking Smiley Jnr into Voynich’s ribs. The young man cries out in pain before delivering a hard cracking blow to the ribs that sends Sigil flying back. The Collector bounces off the ropes, sliding under a headshot before slamming the crowbar into the back of Voynich’s knee. The Best Kept Secret buckles as Sigil slams Smiley Jnr into him over and over before Cosmic Leaping up high, ready to deliver one final shot.
VOYNICH ROLLS AWAY AS SMILEY JNR GETS STUCK IN THE CANVAS!
Sigil tries to pull it out as it’s Voynich’s time to leap up high but he’s not aiming for Sigil but the canvas itself. He slams Volsungr’ into the mat as the entire ring rumbles like a godamn earthquake sending Sigil flying high into the air, Voynich waiting for him as he snares the Collector in mid air
MONOLITH! MID-AIR BRAINBUSTER!
Voynich knows this is it as he pulls Sigil up, rocking him with a vicious headbutt before leaping over
TUTANKHAMUN’S…..COSMIC LEAP!
Sigil counters the KIWF in mid-air, sending both men up high in the air to the scaffolding above. Voynich realising how high he is, lets go of the Collector and staggers back, his fear getting the better of him and Sigil knows this. Lashing out with a flurry of claw like blows that seem him teetering on the edge, Sigil rears back for one final blow
FOR THE….VOYNICH BLOCKS IT!
Fury in his face, Voynich closes his eyes, breathing deeply before nearly taking Sigil’s head off with a hard Lariat. Voynich grips him up for another attempt at the KIWF but Sigil slips out
FINITE!
The Roundhouse kick scrambles Voynich’s brains as he’s lifted up high onto Sigil’s shoulders as the Collector leaps off, pulling Voynich in tight as he uses the velocity to spin in air, screaming at the top of his lungs
REALM
KINNNNIKKKUUUU
…….
VOYNICH SLIPS OUT, GRABBING SIGIL BY THE HEAD BEFORE FLIPPING BACK
TUTANKAMHUN’S WRATH!
THE KIWF hits as Sigil screams out in pain before collapsing to the mat, Voynich barely able to drape an arm for the cover as the referee counts
ONE
.,….
……
TWO
…..
…..
…..
THREE….?
THREE!!!
Voynich does it, picking up the biggest win of his OSW career in an absolute war against his “ally” and fellow tag team champion
That’s when he turns around.
“I’m leaving the city,” he says immediately, turning with his hands raised as if to show the white flag. “I’m on my way to Las Vegas. Just let me go and you’ll never see me again.”
Into frame walks The Butcher, looking as angered and disgruntled as ever.
“How many times have you said that?” Colin asks. “Did Errol Flint believe it?”
Norman gulps.
“I know you won’t stop until you get what you want; you want the crystals, just like Sigil.”
“Now hold on a second,” Lance pleads. “We had a deal. You won, fair and square.”
The Butcher suddenly strikes with a hammer fist of a right hand, knocking Lance to the snowy ground in an instance. Blood splatters the white snow from his mouth as he wretches in pain.
“You’re a fuckin’ lamb Lance!” The Butcher bellows, driving hard kicks into his mid-section. “And I’m The Butcher, you little cunt.”
Norman coughs and splutters, almost begging for him to stop.
“My plate has been empty for long enough.”
Suddenly, as Lance tries to get back up, The Butcher leaps into the air, slamming his foot down on the head of Lance Norman.
There’s a horrifying crunch as his skull crashes into the snowy ground.
His eyes bulge as blood begins seeping out of their corners.
Colin lifts his ginormous boot up again.
“I’m fuckin’ hungry.”
Wham!
The boot slams once more time into the face of Lance Norman, popping eyeballs out of his skull with the ferocity of the stomp as his face splatters into the ground.
The Butcher lifts his foot up, wiping it nonchalantly on the snow behind him. With a grimace, he pulls his winter coat hood up over his head and walks off into the distance.
Lance Norman is dead.
The IWF is dead.
There’s only Old School Wrestling.
We arrive to see Berkshire Elision Green stood behind someone with a 9MM pointed at the back of their head.
The fingers typing aren’t nervous at all; they’re precise, fast and constant.
Just then, the door bursts open and in walks CXDY. He’s absolutely distraught and so he should be. Earlier tonight, The Terror Squad was not only disbanded but his friend Tyler Brooks was murdered.
He walks straight up to Green, even though he’s holding a pistol.
“I need your help,” he growls angrily.
Berkshire looks at him quizzically, smiling somewhat.
“The Butcher had my best friend killed,” he says clearly. “And I won’t stop until I take down both he and who did it.”
The incessant typing continues.
“Taking down Colin is no easy task. I’ve been in the pen with that animal and he fights dirty. If he’s the pig you want to stick, you might be better off fishing.”
CXDY steps closer – a little too close for comfort.
“I’m willing to do whatever it takes,” he retorts.
“Good!” BEG says happily. “Because I could use a man like you Cody. I’m putting together a little corporation; in fact, the man at the other end of this gun is trying out for it as we speak.”
That surprises Williams, who only just realizes what’s happening in front of him. He steps back, taking it all in.
“Blood Money Inc will be a player in the future of the world, I’ll make sure of it. By the time I’m finished, Colin won’t own Old School Wrestling or be able so much as to get a line of credit.”
That makes CXDY smile.
“I want in,” he demands immediately.
Suddenly, the person on the other end of the gun spins in his chair to face BEG – revealing himself.
“It’s done,” he announces, sliding his chair out of the way.
Green quickly approaches the laptop, a smile slowly etching on his smug little face as he looks at his bank balance.
“You now have full ownership of Telegon and everything Mark Gouldern lost to Lance Norman,” the unknown man says with a smirk. “You’re now a tech guru.”
That makes BEG chuckle audibly.
“All that with a gun to your head?” He questions, impressed. “I can only imagine what you could do if you had time, Zero-1-0.”
Zero stands up, shaking his head.
“Oh, you thought I was doing that on the laptop?” He queries. “No, I did that all in my head. I’m connected to the world wide web by cerebral implant,” he announces. “But I multi-tasked. What I actually did was, well, take a look.”
Green quickly looks back at the laptop, navigating around it – what he finds utterly surprises him.
“I put myself on the OSW roster and payroll, increased both your wages and put a warrant out for the arrest of The Butcher; with some evidence of murder for good measure. When the police find him, they’ll throw away the key.”
BEG steps away, puts his arm around Zero-1-0 and looks as if he’s just won the lottery.
“Welcome to Blood Money Inc, boys.”
They all smile.
Cut.
A promo package airs, recapping the rekindling of this sibling rivalry. Nygma winning Ring King; Luke refusing to crown him; Doctor D’Ville informing Nygma of his father’s death – kept from him by his brother; Storm apologising; Nygma burning Luke’s house down; The Laughing Stock busting Nygma out of prison; Nygma assaulting Storm with a baseball bat in their mother’s house!
“AAALLLLLL AABOOOAAAARRRRD!
HaHahAHAHAHAHAHahaha!”
The guitar riff to Ozzy Osbourne’s Crazy Train kicks in.
“Mental wounds not healing
Life’s a bitter shame
I’m going off the rails on a crazy train!”
The challenger, Nygma, makes his entrance first. He tears out of the cog-shaped tunnel and onto the stage. The Laughing Man walks with purpose towards the ring – manic yet focused. The title is on the line, but he’s after blood, as well as gold!
In the ring, he smiles with malicious intent, his eyes fixed on the stage.
Now, we await the Champion.
The lights begin to flash like a paparazzi’s camera as Deep Purple’s “Stormbringer” hits the Slaughterhouse. Smoke fills the entrance tube as the lyrics kick in.
“Comin’ out of nowhere
Drivin’ like rain”
There he is! Luke Storm walks through the clouds like a lightning bolt to stand at the head of the ramp.
He’s not wearing his ring gear, or his signature shades. His head wound is still healing.
He acknowledges the fanbase, but his electric-blue eyes meet the emerald-green eyes of his opponent.
Stormborn marches down to the ring, ready for war. He slides in, going to the opposite turnbuckle to soak in the people that came to support him.
“Ride the rainbow
Crack the sky
Stormbringer coming
Time to die”
It’s time for war as he drops down to face his challenger – his brother.
Luke unfastens the OSW Championship. Before handing it to the referee, however, he steps forwards and holds it above his head, staring defiantly at Nygma.
Not wishing to antagonise Nygma further, the official decides the ritual has been observed, and motions to get things started!
DING, DING, DING!
They waste no time, immediately tearing into each other!
Luke forces Nygma into the corner, where he rams his shoulder into his gut over and over again! Nygma, however, drives his knee up into Luke’s sternum! Storm staggers back, wheezing—
NYGMA HITS A HELLACIOUS CLOTHESLINE!
HE TURNS STORM INSIDE-OUT!
Luke scrambles to his feet—
DOUBLE-LEG TAKEDOWN ON NYGMA!
The Slaughterhouse crowd are beside themselves as we go 0-60MPH right out the gate!
Nygma, meanwhile, laughs as the tables are turned on him—
GROUND AND POUND!
LUKE IS PUMMELLING HIS OWN FLESH AND BLOOD!
The official orders them to break it up, but it’s like trying to separate two scrapping dogs—
NYGMA BITES STORM’S HAND!
LUKE THROWS A PUNCH WITH THE OTHER HAND—
NYGMA GRABS IT…
HE’S PRYING HIS FINGERS APART!
NYGMA IS TRYING TO RIP THE WEBBING BETWEEN STORM’S FINGERS!
Every audience member winces, knowing firsthand how that feels!
Retracting his fist from Nygma’s rancid mouth—slicing his knuckles on his teeth—Luke pulls his other hand free. They race to their feet, where Storm bodies Nygma. He rails him with rib-breaking blows—
THE RIDDLER TACKLES HIM THROUGH THE ROPES!
THEY FALL TO THE FLOOR AWKWARDLY, A TANGLED MESS OF LIMBS!
Zebra-stripes shakes his head, but there are no count-outs in The Slaughterhouse.
Stormborn and Nygma get to their knees. Eyes meeting, they slug it out at ringside! The arena lights show the sweat flying with each blow; spit and blood spatter the floor; a tooth flies into the crowd!
STORM GORES NYGMA INTO THE BARRICADE!
A hedgerow of human arms reaches out to touch both men. Luke knocks Nygma’s block off with a European uppercut, then pulls him into an Irish whip—
NYGMA COUNTERS, SENDING STORM INTO THE STEEL STAIRS!
Luke plows into the unforgiving metal. Holding nothing back, Nygma pulls him up by his hair…
NYGMA CRACKS LUKE’S SKULL INTO THE RINGPOST!
Storm slides down the pole, barely conscious. The crowd rally behind him, only to recoil when he surfaces—
HE’S WEARING A CRIMSON MASK!
Having reopened his head wound, a dazed and confused Luke stumbles away. Nygma grabs hold of him. He shoves him under the ropes, then rolls in.
In the ring, Storm gets to his knees. The Laughing Man approaches his brother. Luke wipes the blood out of his eyes and puts up his dukes.
“COME ON, YOU SON OF A—COME ON!” The Real F’n Deal screams, catching himself.
Humouring the cagefighter, Nygma raises his fists…
ONLY TO GOUGE HIS EYES INSTEAD!
NYGMA IS DRIVING HIS THUMBS INTO STORM’S EYES!
LUKE WAILS IN AGONY!
The fans grill Nygma, as the referee tries in vain to pull him off. He initiates a 5-count—
ONE!
Storm sinks to his knees, as Nygma laughs maniacally!
TWO!
Is he so hellbent on taking something else from Luke, that he’ll forfeit the title!?
THREE!
Good god, he’s going to blind his own brother!
FOUR!
Nygma releases the illegal move and chases the referee away. Cackling with glee, he sets his sights on his downed sibling. What the—!?
NYGMA… COLLAPSES!?
THE CHALLENGER CLUTCHES HIS HEAD!
HE’S IN EXCRUCIATING PAIN!
Despite every crime this man has committed, the fans rise to their feet in concern – as does Luke Storm.
The Champion steps towards his brother uncertainly, squinting through blackened eyes – and blood.
What’s wrong with Nygma!?
The crazed intellect soldiers to his feet. Luke reaches out—
THE LAUGHING KING PULLS HIM IN FOR THE IMPLANT DDT!
He’s not faking, though, as he soothes his head with one hand…
HE JUMPS!
NEVERMI—
LUKE ESCAPES!
HE STEPS BACK—
LIGHTNING STRIIIKE!
HE… MISSES!?
WHEN DOES STORMBORN EVER MISS A SUPERKICK!?
HIS DEPTH PERCEPTION IS SCREWED UP!
NYGMA DROPS DOWN…
LUKE LOOKS DOWN—
UPPERCUT – THE JOKE’S ON YOU, BUDDY!
Nursing his windpipe, Storm steps back. Rising to his feet, Nygma scoops him up on his shoulders…
HE’S GOT HIM UP IN THE DEATH VALLEY DRIVER!
LUKE KICKS AND STRUGGLES…
NYGMA LAUNCHES HIM INTO THE AIR—
THE ENIGMA THEOREEEEM!
DENIED!
STORM LANDS ON HIS FEET!
NYGMA STEPS FORWARDS—
LIGHTNING STRIIIIKES!
IT FINDS ITS TARGET, HITTING HIM ON THE CHIN!
NYGMA IS OUT LIKE A LIGHT!
Luke collapses onto him for the cover…
ONE!
…
He’s beaten everybody with that kick!
…
TWO!
…
Will he retain!?
NO!
KICK OUT!
The spectators groan, as Luke slaps the mat. He climbs to his feet. Looking down at his baby brother once more, he shakes his head and ducks down in the corner, waiting…
Nygma shakes off the cobwebs and pulls himself up in the ropes. He turns around—
STORM LEAPS UP INTO A CODEBREAKER – THE DOWNPOUR!
THE RIDDLER, THOUGH, HOOKS LUKE’S HEAD—
HE COUNTERS!
NEVERMIIIND!
JUMPING IMPLANT DDT!
Nygma hooks the leg…
ONE!
…
…
Will he get revenge on his brother!?
…
…
TWO!
…
…
Is he going to end Luke’s four-month reign!?
…
…
KICK OUT!
The Real F’n Deal is still the Champion – for now!
Nygma giggles as he runs his hands through his acid-green hair. Standing tall over his older brother, his lip curls and his eye twitches in disdain. He backs up into the ropes…
Luke stirs, slowly lifting his head from the smear of blood on the canvas. He claws his way onto his knees—
SHINING WIZARD – AIN’T NO LAUGHING…
NYGMA COLLAPSES AGAIN!
The fans gasp as Nygma cradles his cranium, incapacitated with pain! The official kneels over him, but Nygma won’t allow himself to be checked.
Storm, meanwhile, has gotten to his feet. He knows Nygma is in pain, but he can’t make the same mistake twice; he doesn’t reach out to help his brother – but to end him!
Ignoring the referee’s pleas, Luke pulls Nygma to his feet…
DOWNPOUR!
A TEXTBOOK CODEBREAKER SNAPS NYGMA INTO THE MAT!
STORM INTO THE COVER…
ONE!
…
…
Come on, 2020 – give us one piece of good news!
…
…
TWO!
…
…
STORM TO RETAIN!
…
…
THR—SHOULDER UP!
DAMMIT!
Another groan from the crowd, as The Laughing Man refuses to go down.
Blood congealing on his face, Stormborn looks up to the rafters – the heavens? Nodding, he backs into the corner.
STOMP!
Oh, boy…
STOMP!
You know what’s coming!
STOMP!
The fans ramp up as the intervals close. Nygma’s legs buckle under him, but he uses the ropes to right himself…
LIGHTNING STRIKES FOR A SECOND TIME!
NO IT DOESN’T – NYGMA THUMBS HIM IN THE EYE!
STORM IS BLINDED ONCE MORE!
THE REFEREE DOESN’T SEE IT!
NYGMA SWEEPS LUKE’S LEGS…
HE TURNS HIM OVER – THE LIONTAMER!
NYGMA HAS THE RIDDLE BOX LOCKED IN!
Luke howls in agony, as Nygma contorts him.
WILL HE TAP OUT!?
Can Storm solve the mystery of The Riddle Box, or will the pressure prove too much? He claws the air desperately, but Nygma has him dead-to-rights in the middle of the ring. His weight advantage is negligible, so he can’t drag them to the ropes…
Pain shoots down his extremities like flames spreading along a gasoline trail. The people will him on, but is their support enough!?
Luke slowly manages to turn round while still trapped in the submission. Nygma fights him, but Storm is too tenacious to be subdued…
SMALL PACKAGE!
LUKE WRAPS UP THE RIDDLER!
ONE!
…
THIS IS IT! THIS IS IT!
…
TWO!
…
COME ON, LUKE!
…
…
THREENOOO!
The referee holds up two fingers emphatically – or is it incredulously!?
The Real F’n Deal cusses. He came this close to retaining his title.
He and Nygma scramble to their feet. Nygma bombs it towards Storm, but Luke kicks him in the abdomen. Nygma doubles over, sucking wind, and Storm hoists him up—
FALCON ARROW!
LUKE PLANTS NYGMA IN THE CENTRE OF THE RING!
He doesn’t cover, though. Instead, he glances over at the corner. The fans pop big, and for the first time in this bout, Storm flashes that trademark, confident smirk. Luke sets about scaling the turnbuckle, missing a step due to his afflicted vision.
Nygma has already seen Lightning up close, but only now does he hear…
THE THUUUUUNDEEERRRRRRRR!
PICTURE-PERFECT MOONSAULT BY STORM!
BUT NYGMA ROLLS OUT OF HARM’S WAY!
LUKE FINDS NOTHING BUT HARD CANVAS!
THE CROWD DEFLATE AS HE WIPES OUT!
NYGMA LEAPS INTO THE PIN!
ONE!
…
…
…
NOT LIKE THIS!
…
…
…
TWO!
…
…
…
NEW CHAMPION, NEW CHAMPION!
…
…
…
TWO-POINT-NIIINE!
STORMBORN GETS HIS SHOULDER UP!
Nygma, the referee, the fans – none of them can believe it!
Hell, I don’t think Storm can believe it, as the Champion holds onto his title just a little bit longer.
The Laughing King picks his head up off the mat, his green facepaint mixing with the drying blood of his brother. Chuckling to himself, he backs up into the corner, biding his time…
Luke drags his broken ass up, running on fumes. He gets onto all fours—
SHIINIIIING WIZAAAARRRRRD – NO LAUGHING MATTEEERRR!
NYGMA TAKES HIS FUCKING HEAD OFF!
ONE!
…
…
…
SAY GOODNIGHT, STORM!
…
…
…
TWO!
…
…
…
PUT A FORK IN HIM, HE’S DONE!
…
…
…
THREEEEE!
NOOOO!
POP OF THE NIGHT!
SOMEHOW, SOME WAY, LUKE IS STILL ALIVE!
Nygma bursts into full-bodied, hysterical laughter. Quaking with mirth, tears stream down his white cheeks. He bends down and peels Storm off the mat.
THE REAL F’N DEAL, HOWEVER, HITS A JAWBREAKER!
Nygma springs up, stunned as his top and bottom jaw clatter together. Still reeling, his eyes come to meet those of Luke, who stands unsteadily before him.
“I’m sorry, Eddy.”
You don’t have to be a lip-reader to know that’s what the eldest Newton brother said to the youngest!
LIGHTNING GODDAMN STRIKES!
HE DECAPITATES HIS OWN BROTHER!
NYGMA FALLS INTO THE ROPES, WHICH PUSH HIM BACK…
RIGHT INTO THE DOWNPOOOUUUUR!
LUKE HITS THE DEADLY ONE-TWO COMBO!
HE POINTS TO THE RAFTERS AS HE COVERS HIM – A TRIBUTE TO THEIR DAD!?
ONE!
…
…
…
NYGMA CAN’T KICK OUT OF THIS!
…
…
…
TWO!
…
…
…
THERE’S NO COMING BACK!
…
…
…
THREEEEEEEEE!
IT’S A THREEEEEE!
THE OSW CHAMPION RETAINS!
My god, what a match!
Luke rolls onto his back, exhausted, as the referee presents him with his OSW Championship.
Drip.
Drip.The sound of leaking pipes echo throughout what appears to be an extremely empty darkened space.
As we carefully travel inwards, a small light appears in the distance.
Once past the dripping pipes and into a larger room, we see a hospital bed before us, beneath a bright light.
Stood over it, blocking our view, is The Sandman.
“Lucid Falls feels a little light,” a voice announces. “Did Williams escape?”
The Sandman nods.
“That’s disappointing.”
There’s an awkward pause.
“Each life-force has a profound effect on my survival, this is why you serve me. The stronger and more powerful the person, the longer I survive and the stronger you become. That’s why we’ve held so many captive for so long.”
The Sandman slowly steps aside, revealing the speaker – only not as we know him. He’s old and decrepit.
Sandy Rogers.
“We’ve been feeding off of Ash and hundreds of others for years, and you let him escape? He was the most powerful of our victims. It’s kept me alive; immortal even. But those left cannot fill the void. Their life-forces are waning and Lucid Falls is slowly losing its Paradise – which means that I will slowly lose my life. That’s why I’m bedridden, my dear friend.”
Rogers closes his eyes, a sinister smile appearing across his face.
“Each person held in our dungeon is projected into Lucid Falls whilst their life-force is stolen by you and fed to me, but it isn’t enough. I’ve never told you your purpose until now, Sandman – you’ve simply acted upon my command.”
‘Your Friendly Neighbourhood’ Sandy Rogers beckons The Sandman forth.
“But now, we need something more,” he growls. “It’s time.”
The Terror tilts his head.
“I’m the hand that guides you, Sandman. You’re the terror in my hand.”
Sandy laughs.
“Get me that Championship,” he demands. “Bring me the feast of those who wish to take it from you, so that I may live forever.”
Static.
Flash.
Nygma is still down on the canvas, holding his mid-section.
Luke Storm meanwhile kneels in exhaustion, not realizing that behind him now stands a monster.
The Sandman.
And in his hand? The InVasion briefcase.
As Luke turns, he clobbers him forcibly over the head with it, repelling him backwards with a ginormous thud before tossing it aside. The Sandman quickly dives into the cover…
ONE…
….
TWO…
….
THREE!!
WE HAVE A NEW CHAMPION!
NO!!
KICK OUT ON THREE! HOLY SHIT, LUKE STORM KICKED OUT!
The Stormbringer must’ve kicked out on instinct.
Sandman grabs him by his hair and pulls him back to his feet. If he’s going to win this thing, he’s going to have to put the work in.
He immediately starts with right hands to the stomach – fierce and powerful shots that stumble the Champion backwards. Knowing that the title is on the line, The Dream Demons run at him like a steam train, slamming him into the corner.
Storm rests there, completely exhausted as Sandman backs up.
CHOO CHOO!
HE BOLTS ACROSS THE RING LIKE LIGHTNING!
CORNER SPLASH!
NO!!
LUKE STORM DIVES OUT OF THE WAY.
The Sandman gets nothing but turnbuckle, turning around to a DROP TOE HOLD BY THE CHAMPION!
Luke rolls across his back to be at his face and starts delivering POWERFUL RIGHT HANDS IN THE CROSSFACE POSITION!
WHAM!
WHAM!
WHAM!
“ARGGGGGHHHH!”
Storm pulls his hand away to reveal a tooth stuck between the knuckles. He reels in agony, allowing The Dream Demon time to escape.
As the Champion looks at his hand and reluctantly puts his fingers around the tooth, Sandman boots him clean in the side of the face!
Luke wobbles backwards, but somehow manages to collapse before the knee follows in, swivelling to get back up.
TOOTH FIST TO THE FUCKING NECK!
OH MY GOD!
THE STORMBINGER SLAMS HIS FIST, TOOTH N’ ALL, RIGHT INTO THE NECK OF THE SANDMAN!
HE PULLS IT OUT, LEAVING IT THERE.
SANDMAN THOUGH ISN’T PHASED! HE WRAPS HIS HAND AROUND STORM’S THROAT!
CHOKESLAM!! CHOKESLAM TO FUCKING HELL!
The OSW Champion wisely rolls outside the ring, knowing that if he stayed in it, this match would surely be over.
The stalking Sandman grabs his InVasion briefcase and steps out onto the apron…
JUMPING OFF WITH THE BRIEFCASE ACROSS LUKE STORM’S ALREADY ARCHED BACK!
Jesus Christ!
Storm bellows in pain but no doubt there’s more to come. The Dream Demon grabs him by the head and drags him up the entrance ramp towards the stage, scooping him up and running him HEAD FIRST into the wall!
NO!
LUKE DROPS DOWN AND SENDS SANDMAN INSTEAD!
The Sandman bounces off the concrete and turns around..
LIGHTNING STRIKE!
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
SANDMAN GRABS HIS LEG!
CHOP DOWN THE LEG!
JESUS CHRIST! SHADES OF MIKE LANE VERSUS TOMMY HAWK! HE JUST CHOPPED DOWN HIS LEG AND LUKE STORM COULD VERY WELL BE BROKEN!
The Champion hits the deck with a thud and immediately grabs his leg in agony, only Sandman drags him across the stage towards The Butchers office.
What the fuck is he planning?
He lifts Luke back to his feet and GORILLA PRESSES him atop the office roof. Oh Jesus.
Storm uses his chopped leg to kick out as The Sandman pulls himself up, proving that thankfully, it isn’t broken.
The Dream Demon though takes the shots and keeps coming.
As they both get back to a vertical base atop the roof, Storm hobbles in as quickly as he can, leaping into action.
DOWNPOUR!
NO!
THE SANDMAN SCOOPS HIM RIGHT UP WITH PHENOMENAL STRENGTH
POWERBOMB ON THE ROOF OF THE OFFICE!
FUCKING HELL!
BUT HE DOESN’T LET GO!
ANOTHER!
ANOTHER!
ANOTHER!
AND MY FUCKING GOD, LUKE STORM IS FINALLY SENT THROUGH THE FUCKING ROOF TO THE OFFICE BELOW WITH A GINORMOUS THUD!
The crash is defeaning.
The Sandman looks over the edge to see Luke Storm spread across The Butchers desk, surely unconscious. He slowly drops himself down off the roof and onto the ramp, making his way to the front door.
Surely that gives Luke some time to recover, but not much.
He enters the room and grabs Luke by the head.
STAPLER TO THE FACE!
LUKE STORM OUT OF DESPERATION JUST STAPLED HIS FUCKING FACE!
ANOTHER!
ANOTHER!
STAPLER TO THE HEAD FOR GOOD MEASURE!
The Sandman stumbles backwards and Storm falls off the desk, clutching at his back as he does. He crawls across the floor, finally using the filing cabinet to pull himself back to his feet.
Unfortunately, The Dream Demon keeps coming.
LIGHTNING STRIKE!
SUPERKICK BY THE REAL FUCKING DEAL!
The Champion grabs a nearby lamp and as The Sandman stumbles forward, he smashes it across his fucking head!
He’s not giving up.
No fucking chance.
Luke stumbles out of the office, stopping in the door way to catch his breath. He’s been damn near broken in half.
That’s when The Sandman appears behind him.
He pulls him back inside and shuts the door.
There’s a ruckus, but we can’t see what’s going on.
Then it goes eerily silent.
AND LUKE STORM COMES CRASHING THROUGH THE FUCKING WINDOW LIKE A GOD DAMN LORN DART!
HOLY SHIT!
HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!
The door swings open and out walks Sandman, grabbing Storm by the leg and DRAGGING him back towards the ring.
He rolls him inside and enters, surely looking to put this thing away.
COVER…
ONE…
….
….
TWO…
….
….
THREE!!
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!
LUKE STORM WITH A LAST SECOND SHOULDER UP! THAT’S UNBELIEVABLE!
The Sandman rolls off and if body language could speak, he’d tell you he’s fucking pissed.
He grabs Luke by the hair and drags him upright like he’s a ragdoll.
CODEBREAKER!!
DOWNPOUR!
DOWNPOUR!
DOWNPOUR!
HE FUCKING GETS IT! HE FUCKING GETS IT ALL!
STORM MAKES A CIRCLE WITH HIS HAND ABOVE HIS HEAD AND GOES TO THE TOP ROPE!
THUNNNNNDDERRRRRR!!!!
MOONSAULT! MOONSAULT! MOONSAULT!
HE GOT IT ALL!
AND WHAT FOLLOWS THE FUCKING THUNDER!?
CAUSE LUKE STORM HAS A GOD DAMN WEATHER REPORT FOR THIS MOTHER FUCKER!
HE WAITS, DEMANDING HE GET BACK UP.
THE SANDMAN DOES… HE STUMBLES… HE TURNS…
LIGHTNING! LIGHTNING!
SUPPPPERRRKIIICCCCKKK!!!
THE SANDMAN GOES DOWN!
HE FALLS LIKE A FUCKING TREE!
LUKE COVERS…
ONE…
….
….
TWO…
….
….
THREE!!
HE RETAINS! HE RETAINS!
KICK OUT! KICK OUT! WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT THE FUCK!!
Luke storm’s hands immediately grasp his head in shock. How the fuck is this not over?
He gets back to his feet gingerly, as if all his energy was exhausted on that moment.
The Champion stumbles away, turning around to see that somehow THE FUCKING SANDMAN HAS RISEN.
He runs as fast as he can, ducking under a Clothesline attempt by The Dream Demon, who spins to scoop him up.
URANGE!!
LUKE STORM HAS BEEN DRIVEN INTO THE CANVAS ONCE AGAIN!
The Sandman has one hell of a night – can he top it all off here?
He pulls a nearly limp Luke Storm back to his feet and pulls him in close…
DEEP SLEEP!
THE END OF DAYS!
COVER…
ONE…
….
….
TWO…
….
….
THREE!!
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!
LUKE FUCKING STORM!
LUKE GOD DAMN FUCKING STORM!
HE WON’T DIE!
The Sandman has to be wondering what the fuck he’s gotta do. He gets back up and stops for a moment.
He pauses and looks back at Storm, who’s crawling towards the ropes, pulling himself back to his feet. There’s something unbelievable about this man – he’s a fighter, born and bred. He’s not giving up.
Sandman angrily goes for him once again, only Storm leaps into the air!
STUNNER!
THE STUNNER DROPS SANDMAN! OUT OF NO-WHERE!
The Champion nails him.
He has the energy to roll away and once again get back to his feet. Somehow Luke Storm is still going. He’s still fucking fighting.
Knowing that the cutter won’t put him away, he prepares for one last Superkick.
One last Moonsault.
Thunder and Lightning.
One more time…
The Sandman gets back to his feet once more, turning around to see Luke Storm lunging…
LIGHTNING STRIKE!
NO!!
HE SIDESTEPS IT!
SANDMAN KICKS OUT HIS LEGS AND DROPS HIM TO HIS KNEES, GRABBING BOTH SIDE OF HIS MOUTH AND WRENCHING.
OH MY FUCKING GOD! HE’S TRYING TO PULL STORMS FACE APART!
HE’S TRYING TO RIP HIS GOD DAMN FACE OFF!
LUKE THOUGH WISELY HEADBUTTS BACKWARDS!
AGAIN!
AGAIN!
AGAIN!
SANDMAN SWITCHES POSITIONS!
THE 40 WINKS!
HE DRIVES HIS THUMBS INTO STORMS EYES!
THE 40 WINKS!!
LUKE SCREAMS IN PAIN! HE’S FUCKING BELLOWING!
HE EITHER TAPS OR HE’S BLINDED!
THE OSW CHAMPION TRIES TO PULL HIS HANDS AWAY BUT DESPITE A BRIEF REPRIEVE, SIMPLY CAN’T MANAGE IT!
BUT WAIT..
SANDMAN RELEASES, GETS UP, SPINS STORM AND SCOOPS HIM INTO THE AIR!
KINNIKU BUSSSTTTERRRRRRRRR!!!!
SLEEP PARALYSIS!!
HE COVERS…
ONE…
….
….
TWO…
….
….
THREE!!
WE HAVE A NEW OSW CHAMPION! THE SANDMAN HAS DONE IT! HE’S INVADED AND DEFEATED LUKE STORM FOR THE OSW CHAMPIONSHIP!
HOLY SHIT! HOLY GOD DAMN SHIT, WHAT A VIOLENT CONTEST.
Luke somehow manages to fight back, pulling the hands of The Monster away and running him forcibly back into the corner. He delivers right hand after right hand, but is tossed across the ring like a piece of trash.
The Monster cometh once again.
The Stormborn runs at him, being spun on a dime and grabbed around the throat with a forearm – one hand resting perfectly on the top of his head.
He squeezes tight, cutting off all air supply.
Sandman grins a toothy smile and chuckles.
Oh no.
Please no.
SNAP
NO!!
IT’S NYGMA!
HOLY FUCK, IT’S NYGMA!
The Laughing King tackles both of them down to the canvas with a giant spear, mounting The Sandman shortly thereafter with right hands. Luke rolls away, clutching his throat – barely able to breath, let alone move.
Suddenly, Nygma falls back, coughing and spluttering.
Hold on a minute – no, this can’t be.
Did D’Ville give him the antidote weeks ago?
Through the fog of war, Luke Storm watches as The Sandman rises back to his feet and pulls Edward back to his.
The Riddler is choking, coughing and defenceless.
Storm reaches out, but he’s done.
He’s just done.
Edward’s eyes open wide, realizing that he’s thrust into the clutches of The Sandman, who holds him not unlike he did his brother only moments ago.
Newton nods weakly.
Storm screams.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”
SNAP.
The Sandman violently snaps the neck of Edward Newton, much to the dismay of Luke Storm who reaches up from the canvas in both emotional and physical agony.
The lifeless body of Edward Newton slumps to the canvas, falling face first onto the mat.
And just like that, The Sandman vanishes into the ether.
Luke crawls across the ring, scratching and clawing his way across the canvas to his brother.
His heart breaking in front of us.
He finally reaches him, turning him over to cradle him in his arms.
Luke kisses him on the forehead, stroking back his hair, tears streaming down his face.
Edward saved his life.
After everything they’d been through, he saved his life.
As The Newton brothers sit in the middle of the Old School Wrestling ring, one era ending before our eyes as the snow falls in New York City, there’s only thing Luke Storm will seek in the new year.
Vengeance.
Cut.
He’s stood, freezing his arse off in the middle of a woodland area, in which a large X marks a grave at his feet.
We don’t know how long he’s been there, but a majority of the dirt that leads six feet underground has been removed and tossed to one side.
He grabs a crowbar, reaches in and pops the lid on the casket inside.
A hand reaches out, pushing it to one side.
Colin wisely hops out of the grave, ensuring that he’s at a safe distance for whatever the hell he’s just unleashed.
“We need to talk,” he growls at the thing now escaping.
That thing?
Darby Sorrow.
With long hair and a scruffy beard, he’s hardly recognisable. Darby has been buried here for just under a year. He looks at The Butcher with pure disdain.
The Immortal stops for a moment to take in a deep breath of fresh air.
“I don’t know what kind of hell that was for you,” Colin continues. “But-“
“How long have I been in there?” Darby interrupts.
The Butcher lowers his head shamefully.
“I put you in there in January,” he admits. “It’s now December.”
Sorrow angrily pulls himself from the grave, but The Butcher wisely backs off.
“Hell?” Sorrow asks. “Do you want to know what kind of hell that was? Imagine dying, over and over. Suffocating to death, in agony, only to come back to life and do it all over again. Repetitively.”
The Butcher understandably gulps. He did that to Sorrow.
“You shouldn’t have pulled me out, Colin,” Sorrow says ominously. “Because now you’re going inside.”
“Wait!” He yells as Darby walks towards him. “I came to tell you the truth.”
He pauses.
“Stephen stole a Time Crystal from the Skull Order – an order created to protect the universe from such powers; they killed him to retrieve it and failed. He placed it in a timepiece with a plan to send you back before you became immortal and remove your curse.”
The revelation of truth stops Sorrow dead in his tracks. The emotion is overwhelming.
“But you led myself and Sigil to it first, and he betrayed us both. Since then, he has captured the Reality and Love Crystals. The Collector is collecting power.”
Sorrow’s head slowly lifts, his eyes meeting Colin’s.
“There’s two left to collect,” The Butcher announces. “And the Skull Order know the whereabouts of both. If Sigil finds them and destroys them, he could-“
Darby obnoxiously grunts, shaking his head.
“End the world?” Darby asks with a sneer. “What the fuck makes you think I care about that?”
“You don’t, I know you don’t – but Stephen would care, wouldn’t he?”
That surprises them both.
“Imagine this entire universe losing the ability to control time, reality, love and whatever else those two crystals control. It would be cataclysmic. If he collects these powers for his fucking collection, this universe will fall apart at the very fabric and he doesn’t care.”
Sorrow throws his arms up and turns to walk away. He’s heard enough and he’s not interested.
“I know you want to die,” Colin yells after him. “I know you do, but you can’t; that makes you the only person who can stop him, Darby. For once, this is bigger than you. For once, this is about saving the universe. Just imagine if you can relieve him of those crystals – just imagine seeing Stephen again and undoing your immortality. Just imagine what could happen if you stand up and fight.”
That clearly gets Darby’s attention, who turns back, looking over his shoulder.
“If you’re lying to me Colin-“
“I’m not,” he interrupts. “Do you know what I’ve lost? When my wife died, I tried everything to see her again. When The Skull Order came to me in July of last year and told me I could see her again, I believed them – my entire family did. They wanted something irreplaceable from us; a vessel to hold love. They came to my family because our hearts were broken and beyond repair. Wynona volunteered and I couldn’t stop her. My daughter allowed them to use her as a vessel for love and I stood by ignorantly, waiting for something that never came until Sigil killed her.”
That shocks Sorrow who turns around fully to meet The Butcher who now closes the gap between them.
“We’ve both loved and lost,” Colin continues. “Yet I still want to stop this universe from folding. We’ve both still got family here. You’ve got a son and Grandchildren – what happens to them if Sigil completes his mission?”
“Enough!” Sorrow rudely interrupts. “I’ll come back to OSW. I’ll help you stop Sigil, once and for all.”
“You won’t be alone,” he announces with a wave.
Just then, hidden from view behind some trees, appears a familiar face.
Voynich.
The Best Kept Secret steps forward into sight, approaching both Darby and Colin.
“It’ll take a team to defeat him,” Voynich says confidently. “He has three of the crystals and Legacy at his back. The truth is, those of us not immortal are probably already dead and Darby, you want nothing more than to die.”
Gulp.
Voynich continues.
“But if we’re Dead On Arrival, then we’ve nothing to lose.”
Cut.