CORRUPTION 12.2 VOTING & PROMO THREAD

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”

The sound of a man screaming echoes throughout what appears to be underground ruins. As the camera pulls back even more it is revealed that the camera was watching a widescreen television set. It slowly pans out even further to show several men standing in what is an underground stadium. They are shouting and waving Euro’s in the air as Mathias Von Koenig is sitting on a chair higher up with a man sitting across from him chained to his seat with what could be assumed is the man’s wife sitting next to him. His wife holding an infant and both look terrified. The husband is already bleeding from the face and appears to be in terrible pain. Mathias just looks around the room with a smile at the spectators before looking at the two with a look of disgust. He clears his throat to address the crowd.

Mathias: Guten Abend Herr. Ich bin Mathias von Koenig und willkommen zu unserem heutigen Unterhaltung.

As Mathias is speaking a very well dressed gentleman steps out from around Mathias’s chair and he begins to translate Mathias.

Translator: Good evening gentleman. I am Mathias von Koenig and welcome to tonight’s entertainment.

Mathias turns his attention to his translator.

Mathias: You service no need. Mathias will speak English.

Translator: Very Well my lord.

The translator bows in respect and turns away as Mathias goes back to addressing the crowd.

Mathias: In front of Mathias is guilt man. He no good mother fucker. What is man crime? Man make deal with Mathias to help family but Man no honor deal. Mathias make sure man get family and pregnant bitch out of street but what does man do? He spit in Mathias face and family honor.

The crowd yells out in disapproval as Mathias slowly raises his hand and the crowd quiets down.

Mathias: calm down calm down Mathias here to make situation right-

Woman: NO! We will get money to pay you… Please.

Mathias stares at the woman in complete shock that she had the audacity to cut him off.

Mathias: Who the fuck is bitch that talk to Mathias … bring me fuc-king baby.

The woman screams and tries to protect her child as three men approach her and forcibly remove the baby from her custody. The infant begins to cry as he is yanked out of the arms of his mother. The husband starts to shake in his seat to try to break free but to no avail he is stuck. The woman tries to follow after the man with her child but another one catches her in the back of the neck with a stun stick and drops her before he starts to kick her in the chest and stomach. Mathias lets this go on for a few seconds before waving him off.

Mathias: No No…Bitch hard to sell if damaged. Now Baby.

The man with the infant is standing next to Mathias, knowing better than to hand him anything directly. Mathias looks at the infant with a look of disgust.

Mathias: Now scum listen good… Mathias going to make his fuc-king money back. You fight for life of child… you fight for life of fuc-king bitch… you fight to settle debt. Now you lose and you die, Mathias turn wife into Fuc-king whore and baby become animal food.

Man: No you basta-

The man never finishes the sentence cause a trap door underneath his chair opens up and he falls chair and all. The camera follows the drop as the trap door closes and the chair collides with the ground breaking upon impact. The man slides the chains off of his body and takes a second to rest as he looks around thinking himself alone in the ruins.

Mathias: Now Gentlemen. Who you like to see kill this scum?

Shouts of different names get yelled in the room with the loudest being Bonesnapper.

Mathias: You fuc-king want Bonesnappa? You Fuc-king get Bonesnappa.

Mathias looks down at a panel to his left and presses a button.

Mathias: Good allow game to begin.

The camera pans back down to the ruins. The man picks up the chains that were wrapped around him as he slowly steps forward. The poor lighting down there made it impossible to see anything but he was confused he knew someone was down here with him only he didn’t know who yet his ear must be betraying him because he hasn’t heard a sound at all.

Man: Ok breathe, All you have to do is win this-

He never finishes his sentence as a massive hand grabs him by the back of the head and slams him face first in to a brick wall. The man stumbles back before getting lifted off of the ground and as quick as lighting the mage man’s hand goes rapid fire into the gut of the man before dropping the smaller man. The big man picks the small man back up by the neck

SNAP!

[i]The camera pans back out to the “court” with Mathias smiling at the woman.

Mathias: You Lose.

With a snap of his finger a group of men take the woman and child away as Mathias is laughing.



????: Mr. Von Koenig.

Mathias shoots out of his day dream and looks across the desk at a FMW intern with the application papers.

Mathias: Excuse me Excuse me Mathias very old man and just thinking about how you say good ol’ days.

Intern: No that is fine sir, but what brings you to wanting to be a manager at Full Metal Wrestling?

Mathias: Well you see it not about money because Mathias is already rich. But Mathias want to be remembered not only in home country but in U S of A. Legacy very important to Von Koenig family.

Intern: Now I see you are also bring in a wrestler with you?

Mathias: Yes… Bonesnappa.

Intern: Yes but is a Mr. Bonesnapper here for the interview?

Mathias: No need I own Bonesnappa…

Intern: What do you mean you own him?

Mathias smiles at the intern.

Mathias: Well Bonesnappa not a slave If you imply that what Mathias mean… No Mathias is how you say Agent he handle all Bonesnappa need.

Intern: Ok that is fine but what is his real name.

Mathias: Name no important.

Intern: Sir his name is very important how else are we going to pay him his checks?

Mathias pulls out a roll of Euro and slides them to the intern. He unrolls it as his eyes go wide at the amount of money he was just handed.

Mathias: Like Mathias said, name no important Mathias pay Bonesnappa… you make check to Mathias.

The Intern pockets the roll and continues to fill out the application.

Intern: Very well sir. Does Mr. Bone snapper have any past wrestling history?

Mathias: Ya Bonesnappa wrestle bear before. Das Bear count ya?

Intern: Excuse me? He wrestled Bears?

Mathias: No No Mathias tell joke. Mathias own private animal paradise and never hurt animal.

Intern: Ok but does he have any past wrestling history.

Mathias: Ya he fight before.

Intern: That’s not what I-

Mathias: No more question. Just tell Mathias when to show up.

Intern: Well commissioner booked a group of rookies to fight for their contracts.

Mathias: You say Bonesnappa fight for contract now? Good who Bonfire fight.

Intern: Well if we plugged him in right here he would be facing former Television Champion Pure Extremist?

Mathias: What is Television Champion?

Intern: It is a wrestling belt. Special wrestlers get them.

Mathias: Mathias still don’t understand please elaborate.

Intern: it’s a leather strap with a golden plates to signify your important.

Mathias: Ah Mathias see. So someone steal gold belt from this Pure Extremist?

Intern: No it wasn’t stolen, it was taken in a manner that Mr. PX took it from the last champion.

Mathias: Ah so you say this PX is a thief. You make good choice in picking Bonesnappa to punish thief. Not only will thief lose golden belt but Thief lose ability to steal again.

The intern realizes that the language barrier made the situation sound really bad compared to a simple wrestling title match. But it was already too late by the time he added this together in his head, Mathias got up and walked out of the room. The Intern bolts out of the room to the lobby as he sees Mathias getting into a limo and driving off.

Intern: Well crap… well hopefully someone will explain to him this is wrestling and not a real fight.


Mathias: Ahh good day to stop another thief… Mathias perfect art of smash thief and this thief, this PX, will be no different… Say bye bye thief

The scene fades as Mathias breaks out into a laughing fit as the Limo pulls down the road.

Corruption 12.1 wrote:

Damien: I’ve got it. I’ve bloody damn well soddin’ got it. What is missing from the formula of Sex, Drugs and Rock & Roll?

He tilts his head to the side, obviously in thought. From under the ring, apart from the feed, Damien Fox suddenly slides out with a steel pipe in his hand.

Boice: Wait, he’s here! Damien Fox is here to ruin another match! I don’t like that steel pipe!

He jumps up onto the apron, pulling himself in. The two figures of Ripper and Cliff Carson don’t notice him, as he runs towards them.

Boice: Behind you, guys!

Swinging the pipe wildly, he knocks Cliff Carson out cleanly. Ripper, sensing something is happening, turns around, just in time to get a blow to the stomach. As he crumbles to the floor, Damien aims another one at his head, cracking it open. Damien laughs loudly and takes out his microphone from his pocket again.

Boice: Dammit! Damien Fox laid out all the other rookies tonight!

Flare: I must say, I like his style!

Damien: THAT’S what was missing. Now, what was lacking to make this good entertainment, then?

The camera zooms in in a closeup of his face.

Damien: Damien Bloody Fox.

He drops the mic, as he rolls out of the ring, once again escaping into the audience, as a new security team arrives to subdue him.

The scene opens in a small room, virtually empty safe for Cliff Carson and a medic tending to his head prominent in the middle. As bandages are laid around his head, he sits down, he raises his remote control in hand and replays the clip from the previous Corruption show.

The camera moves towards the side of Carson, putting both him and the television in focus.

Corruption 12.1 wrote:

Swinging the pipe wildly, he knocks Cliff Carson out cleanly. Ripper, sensing something is happening, turns around, just in time to get a blow to the stomach. As he crumbles to the floor, Damien aims another one at his head, cracking it open.

Cliff is shown grimacing as he watches himself get blown down, then pausing after watching the blows sustained by Ripper.

Cliff: Damn.

The medic, now finished with the bandages loosely claps his hands a few times after closing his first aid kit.

Medic: That oughta fix that head of yours. Be careful, though, a concussion will probably be the least of your worries if you catch another shot like that again.

Cliff gives a nod as the medic leaves the room, only for another FMW employee to enter. He gives a quick nod towards Cliff and holds up a clipboard.

Employee: Mr. Carson, do you have a moment?

Cliff: Yeah, what is it?

He turns off the monitor and throws the remote to the side.

Employee: Well, since mr. Roy has closed down the Distortion brand, many Full Metal superstars have had their contracts put on the line, and I'm afraid you're no exception.

Cliff: What?

Employee: You've been scheduled a match at Corruption 12.2 in the Philippines against Panzer, another newcomer.

The employee nods again as he turns away, walking towards the exit. Cliff quietly says "okay" to himself, fiddling around him for the remote control again. As he finds it, he turns on the screen again and quickly looks through the tapings again.

Corruption 12.1 wrote:

Panzer suddenly reacted, hitting him with a vicious right, following it up by a series of punches.

Boice: And now Panzer’s gotten in on the action too, having had enough!

Flare: Well, he’s in trouble now!

Grabbing hold of his arm, he irish whips him into the rope. As he lurches forward for a clothesline, Damien suddenly jumps through the air, lashing out with the mic with full force, taking Panzer down as well. The referee groggily gets up and calls for the bell.

Flare: And... BAM, too!

Boice: And Panzer has also been taken down by Fox and his microphone! Both competitors are down and out!

Sheila Blige: Ladies and gentlemen, due to interference, this match has been ruled a no-contest!

As the clip comes to an end, Cliff sighs at the sight of Damien Fox.

The scene afterwards fades to black.

I'm just a step away
I'm just a breath away
Losing my faith today
Falling off the edge today

The call came in moments after his 4th win in a row, after 12.1. He was to finally get is title shot. His moment in the spotlight, to go from house shows and opening acts to main eventing in a heart beat is huge. Whether in arena rock or sports entertainment and now he had done both. Why, then did he feel a sense of dread, like everything would soon come crashing down?? Was this not what every man in the locker room strives for, was this not his shot at FMW immortality. No one but Axel had ever been able to get in his head and in reality no one should try....But lets give it a go anyways huh? For Shits and giggles...

I am just a man
Not superhuman
I'm not superhuman
Someone save me from the hate

" The folks that have fought for this belt are larger than life. Hannibal Frost sigle handedly won the War Games for the Green Brand. Dunn is a sadist and a psychopath and just think both fell at the hands of the Stay Puft Marshmellow Man incarnate, Jabba the Hutt....Seth Omega. He and i are similar in ways that cannot be counted. Both of us are constantly made fun and belittled because of this or that and both have to work that much harder to prove we belong. Omega could have bowed out against an ailing Hannibal, but he saw his shot, his day in the sun and he took it....Can't fault a man for that can you. But I am just a man, I don't have some sadistic sick streak to draw upon. I don't hunt Vampires in my spare time. Hell all I do is play the guitar, and to hear my girl talk, not that well to boot....What can I do to push myself to the brink and over the ledge....To get to that next level?

It's just another war
Just another family torn
Falling from my faith today
Just a step from the edge
Just another day in the world we live

" I can't psych myself out of this... I can't make this one bigger than it is. But it is a king maker kind of match, one that will define my FMW career. The boys in the back are talking that either way this match will be shit. A squash by Omega or an upset by me is considered garbage. I want to prove them wrong, to show them that AVO is more than false bravado and piss and wind. I am worthy to hold this title, I am supposed to be a champion...


I need a hero to save me now
I need a hero, save me now
I need a hero to save my life
A hero will save me just in time

"The FMW as a whole needs folks to step up and combat the scum like Omega and Jaro. It has very few "heroes", save for the Celt and folks like Hannibal Frost and Leon. I want to be at the forefront of that charge and a win here will do just that. A win here may help me become the hero that the FMW really needs."

I've gotta fight today
To live another day
Speaking my mind today
My voice will be heard today

I've gotta make a stand
But I am just a man
I'm not superhuman
My voice will be heard today

It's just another war
Just another family torn
My voice will be heard today
It's just another kill
The countdown begins to destroy ourselves

" This is my make or break match here. I have had many matches that taxed me back in my time with the FWE. Inferno matches, Super structure cage matches where I fell 8 stories to the hard ground below, but none have defined my wrestling career more than this. This is my stand in the FMW, this is where I show all those guys in the back that I am legit and not just a jobber killer. A win over this fat fuck puts me firmly on the FMW map. It makes me part of this fed's history!!

I need a hero to save me now
I need a hero, save me now
I need a hero to save my life
A hero will save me just in time


I need a hero to save my life
I need a hero, just in time
Save me just in time
Save me just in time

Who's gonna fight for what's right?
Who's gonna help us survive?
We're in the fight of our lives
And we're not ready to die

Who's gonna fight for the weak?
Who's gonna make 'em believe?
I've got a hero, I've got a hero
Living in me

I'm gonna fight for what's right
Today I'm speaking my mind
And if it kills me tonight
I will be ready to die

A hero's not afraid to give his life
A hero's gonna save me just in time

I need a hero to save me now
I need a hero, save me now
I need a hero to save my life
A hero will save me just in time

(I need a hero)
Who's gonna fight for what's right?
Who's gonna help us survive?

(I need a hero)
Who's gonna fight for the weak?
Who's gonna make 'em believe?
I've got a hero

I need a hero
A hero's gonna save me just in time

" This match isn't just for me, this match isn't just for the old Distortion folks who are falling by the wayside. No! This match is for all those who watch in the stands or at home and say..." I want to be in that ring someday!!" or " If I was in that ring I would whip Omega and set things right!" Well, God willing folks you have your hero, your champion....THE GIANT KILLER!!!"

***************************************************************************************


Axel and Logan make their way cautiously through the crowd of thugs and ruffians to the sign in table at ther back of the dingy wherehouse. Axel can't help but stare at a monster of a man resetting his own broken fingers, covered in blood and sweat and not much else. Logan represses a gag reflex, not used to this level of humanity at all....

Logan: Sir, I think I just saw a rat trying to hump a small dog over in that corner. And over there, decorum will not even let me describe what's going on....Why are we here??

" I am here to get in the mind set I need for this title match coming up. I have to get down and dirty. Hell, this guy put Dunn in a god damn electric chair last week. And before that he damn near ended Frost. For all the crap everyone gives Omega, you would think this was a walk over, but it won't be. I have to learn new tactics, hence the underground cage fighting. If I can't pick up some new stuff here...I don't need to be in that ring...I mean look at that hold that guy is using, there is no damn way he loses...His opponent is tapping out right after he slapped it on. By the way we are in the Phillipines. home of this kind of thing....You better get used to it.

Logan: Well it's also home to underage prostitues and a multitude of VD's but I certainly don't have to get used to those!

" Well you do make a point there, help me look for my contact, he is a really big Samoan dude...

Logan: Oh that won't be too hard to spot in the PHILLIPINES!!! EVERYONE IS A LARGE SAMOAN, IDIOT!!!


The room gets silent and everyone turns to look at the elder Englishman, glaring at him menacingly.....

Logan: I was calling this man an idiot, not any of you fine gentleman. I am sure you all are Rhodes scholars and Noble Prize winners...Am I right?? Sir why are they still coming at me....SIR!!!

AVO turns back toward his man Logan just in time to see him getting circled by a bunch of thugs looking ready to rip him into tiny pieces....Axel pushes through the mass of humanity drawing up to full height, facing off with the apparent leader....

" Really bud?? Are you going to tear him a new asshole, just because he may or may not have called one or more of you guys an idiot??? I mean you guys probably have nicknames for each other that are worse than that... I mean look at him, do you really think he meant to piss you off....He has the build of a wet dish rag for God's sake....

Logan: I take offense to that.... I do Pilates every evening at 6... I am an excellent physical speciman....


"Logan, now would be a good time to shut the fuck up....You guys aren't gonna back down at all are you?? He offended your family honor or some shit, didn't he??"

The biggest of the men nods a negative and advances on Axel menacingly....

"Well, all right then....Let's see what you big pug uglies got for me....Don't hold back now, my Momma would be disappointed...."

The group tightens their circle up advancing on the cowering Logan and the stead fast AVO...AVO pushes Logan behind him art first absorbing the melee from the first couple guys. They get in blow after blow until Axel raises a chair up over his head whacking it hard into the temple of the closest guy...He falls....Axel reaches for a bottle on the table breaking it and swinging wildly...He cuts one of the bigger fellas across the chest the man growls and lunges....Axel steps to the side and the thug crashes into the gigantic cage structure rattling it hard. This draws the attention of a throng of spectators who begin to place side bets on Axel versus the thugs. One man tries to come up on Axel's left he dodges the one coming straight at him and the two men collide. The crowd cheers and Logan smiles, bowing theatrically....Only to be decked across the back of the head by something hard and cold.....

A few hours later Axel wakes up in a makeshift infirmary a large well dressed. damn near toothless man leering over him chuckling.....

????: Ah, so you must be the fearless Axel Van Osbourne?? Ah, Ah, no talking you got pretty roughed up out there. But I will say you were very resourceful and you will need that against the monster you face in the squared circle a few days from now....If you keep your wits about you no one will be able to beat you....

"Who they hell are you anyways... Mr Myagi or some shit??"

Mr. White: No you may call me Mr. White and I am going to teach you how to survive in this world....this is Omega's world and to beat him you must live and breathe his world....

We are treated to the ever popular 80s action movie training montage, to the tune of " You're the Best". We see what happens in the training dojo of Mr. White. In it Axel is taken to the extreme with Singapore cane fights, chicken wire fights, and even a bullwhip match. He is pushed further than he has ever been pushed before and by the time the song fades into the background days have passed and he is covered in welts and cuts and we zoom in on the conversation between AVO and the enigmatic Mr. White....

Mr. White: Axel, you are well on your way to being a master of the twisted and sadistic, but your training is far from complete.....I think you could excel in this type of fight, however, and I wish you well and hope that you will return someday to hone your obvious talents.

"White, I promise when I win this Title in Manila I will return for more training and become the true champion I know I can be.... Until then my friend, I must be off to beat Omega....Where is Logan by the way I have not seen him for days?

Mr. White: I believe Mr. Logan left with our young ladies or as you as in America, underage prostitutes....

" That dirty dog....I am going to whip his English ass for talking shit earlier....

Our scene fades to black as Axel and White chuckle together....

See you next time folks at the same Axel Time and the Same Axel Channel....Where we will see if Axel's new found talents are enough to push him to FMW Gold and if he was ever able to find his man Logan amonst the underage prostitute scene in the Phillipines....Until Next Time True Believers!!!

Rated:

TV
MA
*For Adult Content, Extreme Violence, Intense Sexual Situations, and Harsh Language


This Program is Recommended For Mature Audiences Only.
Viewer Discretion is Advised.




The old Warden's office, now Frost's main base of operations, was brightly lit and silent...

A moment ago.

The door swung open, almost violently, as a young couple trampled into the room. They were inexorably intertwined, every molecule of their bodies joining together. They were locked inside a cage, by none other than the throes of passion, and neither one wanted to be set free.

A determined hand swiped free the surface of the desk that sat in one corner of the room. A myriad of personal affects fell to rest noisily on the floor as the two took up residence on the now empty desk.

Hannibal Frost, tearing his shades off with a single movement, soaked in the beautiful scenery that was Gwenivieve Richards. The girl brushed her blond hair back, revealing emerald eyes that one could get lost in for all eternity. Her smile, warm and inviting, threatened to take Frost's heart right then and there.

Unable to withstand the thought of being separated from her lips, Frost moved in and embraced them with his own. Their tongues danced together, the saliva being traded a mere afterthought. But, for a couple that wanted each other so badly, maybe the viscous fluid drew them closer into each other.

The kiss didn't last long however, as Frost became greedy in his actions. He pulled back, before scanning the form fitting button down shirt that Gwen wore. The casually formal wear complimented her small cup size, which in turn complimented the perfect proportions of her body.

Not able to contain himself, Frost gripped the shirt at the middle seam, and jerked hastily. Buttons bounced across the desk as the shirt fell open to reveal a body that had Frost on the edge. A white bra, hiding from view her perky bosom, sat just above a stomach that was only a workout or two away from being toned.

Frost took in all he could, before returning to gaze into Gwen's eyes. She conveyed a growing a need for him, desire seeping from every pore. So Frost kissed her once again, this time using his right hand to undo the clasp of her bra.

The article of clothing quickly fell away, and Frost couldn't keep himself from looking any longer. Her breasts were a thing of beauty. Just enough to fill the palm of his hand, yet more than enough to keep him coming back for years to come. Her nipples were erect, blood engorging them; just another sign of her growing need for him.

A whisper of a moan escaped Gwen's lips as Frost bent to prod the expanses of flesh with his lips. He would've spent eternity there, just to hear her bated breath, but something was drawing his attention. Gwen's skirt, a black number just above knee length, was hiking up under him as their bodies pressed into each other.

The inside of her thighs began to draw Frost in, the promise of what lay beyond just too irresistible to handle. He slid down, halfway off the desk, and began to kiss the soft skin of her legs. The feeling was like silk brushing against his lips, an aphrodisiac unlike any other. The sensation sent a tingle down his spine, to settle somewhere that brought his desire to a boiling point.

Unable to keep his libido at bay for any longer, Frost hiked the skirt up as far as it needed to go. With a smile, Gwen immediately began to undo the belt from Frost's waist, before pulling down the jeans themselves.

Then, pushing himself into a standing position, Frost pulled Gwen in close... and they became one being.


Hey, Frost, are you- Oh baby Jesus


"Leon? What the- Out, out, out."

"Sorry, sorry."


Reflections


The moon held its steady place in the sky, casting a pale glaze over everything below it. A faint wind, just cool enough to calm the nerves, took flight over the second story balcony of The Clubhouse.

Frost and Leon, each laid back in plush recliners, gazed out over the balcony and down to the courtyard below. Frost, a tumbler of whiskey in one hand and a cigar in the other, turned to look at Leon with a smile on his face.

"So, be honest... do I have a nice ass?"

Leon snorted, a failed suppression of laughter. "I honestly didn't see anything."

"It's okay, I won't hold it against you," Frost said, before taking a drag off the cigar. He then exhaled, the cloud of smoke curling in the moon light. "I'd watch myself make love if I could. Which reminds me... I should've had a ceiling mirror installed."

Leon gestured to change the subject. "Let's move on. Who was that?"

Frost smiled, taking a sip of his whiskey to wet his lips. "Gwen Richards. And yes, we are currently dating."

"You never struck me as a... relationship kinda' guy," Leon revealed.

"Being a man whore isn't all it's cracked up to be," Frost said, the tone of his voice letting slip the memory of a past life.

"I wouldn't know. The... path of our Lord and all."

Frost nodded. "Quite right. To each his own."

Leon made a look as if he was spying at Gwen, who happened to be on the other side of the building. A symbolic gesture, sure enough. "You like her?"

And that question brought forth a warm feeling that Frost hadn't felt in so long. The floodgates had been opened, and Frost didn't mind gabbing like a seventeen year old girl at Claire's just after being asked to prom by the guy she'd been eying all year yet never had the gumption to talk to because he was the starting quarterback for the varsity football team.

Like... omfg.

"She's nice."

Leon cocked an eyebrow. "Really? That's it?"

Frost smiled again, the gesture unable to leave his lips alone. "I haven't felt this way in a long time, Leon. She's exactly what I need. Exactly... what I want."

"Touching."

Frost then let a shadow creep over his mood. "Even if I don't deserve it."

Leon laughed, a slight and knowing sound. "He does that."

"Who?"

Leon looked up. "You know who."

"I guess he might know what he's doing after all. I've got the girl, a bright and shiny title shot in my future, and a new buddy to pal around with."

Leon rolled his eyes. "We're fighting for the same reason, the same outcome. Not exactly like hitting the Chuck E. Cheese ball pit together."

"Oh be quiet, you love me."

"And... you're drunk."

"So I am."

Not that Frost minded at all; it was his favorite state of mind. Nothing like being anti-sober, he always said. And what was important was that Gwen didn't seem to mind. She knew that Frost could control himself. All it did was bring out his playful side.

Which, Leon didn't seem to mind so much either.

"So, Smitten huh?"

Frost rolled his eyes.

"The least of my problems," Frost said, taking another sip of whiskey.

"Glad you can afford to be so confident," Leon shot back.

Frost took a long, hard stare at the liquid in his tumbler before replying. "I can't. Just helps me to get through the day. If I were to show how I really feel, I'd be a laughing stock."

Leon nodded slowly, a gleam of understanding in his eyes. "So, how does Smitten make you feel?"

"Scared shitless."


Back On The Clock


Frost had gotten a message from Denisoff just after advancing to officially drunk. Supposedly, the prophecy had been completely translated and the Trinis Oculus had been found. The latter item was just as important as the prophecy, but that didn't help anyone in figuring out just what the hell it was used for.

Now, Frost and Gwen were standing in the Antiques Room, as Frost liked to call it, inside Organization headquarters. Which, was just a convenient two blocks away from the Clubhouse.

A bookshelf lined the far wall, with ancient weaponry on display over it. A long, oak table sat in the center of the room, with a scroll laid out across it. Stacks of paper surrounded the scroll, each one with scribbles covering every inch of available surface.

Denisoff hurried in behind them, his face devoid of any expression as usual.

"Well, we've got good news and bad news," Denisoff said, stopping to pause in front of the scroll. He pulled a sheet of paper from the table, one that Frost guessed held the translation.

"What's the good news?" Frost asked.

"That we were able to accurately translate the bad news," Denisoff replied.

Frost shook his head, wondering why he even asked. "Let's get to it then."

"Right..." Denisoff started, before pulling the sheet of paper up to read. "Well, the prophecy is definitely about you. We've got the dead lover, the quite literal reign of havoc, and the redemption."

"Old news, but... that thing is a thousand years old," Frost said.

"Three thousand eighty one, to be precise," Denisoff corrected him. "Although, it seems the rest is kind of vague."

"How much is there?" Frost asked.

"Enough to fill a four hundred page novel, but this scroll jumps all over the place. It predicts hundreds of world events. Our people had to dig in order to find the passages about you. That is, until the end."

Gwen stepped over to skim the scroll, but Frost highly doubted she could read it. "What's at the end?" She asked.

"Six or seven passages about Hannibal..." Denisoff said, before pausing to fill his lungs with air. "The prophecy lists these in no specific order, but there are quite a few familiar signs to go on. The destruction of what he once was, the hope of love reborn, the Test of the Hero, and finally... the actual claiming of the birthright."

"Wait, what in the hell is this test?" Frost asked, one of many things that stuck out in Denisoff's explanation.

"I'm not sure, but the prophecy put quite the emphasis on it."

Gwen, of course, was the one to ask this next question. "And the love reborn?"

Denisoff scanned the paper in his hands. "This one was vague as well. Just that, at a certain point, it would save the hero."

Frost rolled his eyes. "Why does there always have to be mushy shit?"

Gwen smiled, bumping into Frost in a playful manner. "Oh shut up, you love it."

"The hell I do," Frost replied, scoffing to drive home the point. "So, boss man, where's the heart crippling horrific news? There's no such thing as a happy ending."

Denisoff sighed, scanning down to the bottom of the page. "In order for the champion to be born, he must pass the Test of the Hero... and lose everything in the process."

Frost immediately looked over at Gwen, who seemed a bit shaken by the news. "What exactly does that mean?"

"One can only assume," Denisoff answered, losing the edge on his English accent.

Frost pounded a fist into the wall next to him, automatically assuming the worst. There was no way he'd just let that happen. Not Gwen, not Nick... nobody.

But, even with the atmosphere so dire, Denisoff wasn't done. "The last passage actually talks of two endings to this story. Unfortunately, you aren't going to get the automatic win here. If you do succeed, a set of events will be set into motion that will eventual lead to the salvation of man. If you lose, a different set of events will take place... eventually leading to the Apocalypse."

Frost gripped at his cowboy hat, threatening to toss it across the room and bash his head into the wall. But, managing to get a grip on his temper, he simply laid a hand on Gwen's shoulder.

"I won't let that happen. I won't fail, they won't win, and no one will die," Frost said, his gaze flicking to Gwen during the last of his words. She smiled, taking his hand in hers.

Denisoff smiled weakly. "I'm sure of it, Hannibal. But, unfortunately, we have to test that theory."

Frost cocked an eyebrow. "Explain."

"We've gotten intel that The Agency is planning to intercept you at the airport. They're... going to get you at your favorite spot."

Frost's heart dropped. Not his little lunch in on the corner. The one with the big patio, the free tortilla chips, and the beautifully crafted tacos. "Not El Mariachi..."

Denisoff sadly nodded. "The Agency obviously has no problem with taking you out in public, so... expect some property damage."

"If they get me banned from my favorite restaurant... may God have mercy on their souls," Frost said, tightening his fists.

Both Gwen and Denisoff cocked an eyebrow.

"A little much?" Frost asked.

They both nodded.

Then Denisoff, ever the one to get to business, broke the light exchange. "Time to get this show on the road. And Frost, if you hear anything of the Trinis Oculus, let me know. We have it here, but we still don't know what to do with it."

Frost nodded, before turning to the door. "If they can speak after I'm done with 'em... I'll ask."


El Mariachi


The rumble of the '69 Camaro quietly began to fade into silence as Frost took the keys from the ignition. He'd parked just a block away, in a convenient enough spot to stalk the patio. Patrons were dining, just showing up, and leaving as the hustle and bustle of everyday life went round like clockwork.

Gwen, sitting in the passenger side seat, glanced out her window. "Why do they have Nick doing research?"

Frost shrugged, unable to come up with an answer. "Beats the hell outta' me."

"It's just weird that I'm here, really. I'm an archaeologist, not a hunter," Gwen followed up, true confusion pinching her brow.

Frost made a bid at easing the tension. "Maybe Denisoff saw what kinda' team we make."

Gwen smiled, turning to look at Frost. "And what kinda' team would that be?"

"A pretty damn good one," Frost replied, bending in for a kiss. But, as his eyes flicked to the patio for just a moment's time, he saw something that couldn't have possibly been.

He pulled back from the kiss, his eyes trying to discern the facial features of the patron now sitting at the table closest to the street. Long brown hair, intellectually beautiful features, and brown eyes that could melt the soul. No way... no fucking way.

Kayla...

Frost shook his head, trying to clear away the thought, but his eyes weren't deceiving him. There she sat, smiling at the waiter above her, looking as beautifully mortal as ever.

Frost hadn't seen her since back in his Havoc days. She'd been sent from Heaven, as a demi-angel, to destroy the monster that Frost had become. Needless to say, evil won out... in more ways than one. Kayla had succumbed to vengeance, falling from Grace in the process, and then... FrostSinius had killed her.

Which would mean... that she had become a demon.

Then, Kayla lost her smile, and looked directly at Frost. His heart stopped, if only for a fleeting second, and everything dissolved into nothingness. All he could see was Kayla, staring at him with a blank face, and it began to tear him to pieces.

Questions flooded in from every direction, but no amount of answers would keep them at bay. This was all too much-

"Hannibal!"

Frost blinked, the endless voices silencing all at once, and found Gwen's worried eyes. "Um... yeah?"

She put a hand to his cheek. "What's wrong?"

And that's when Frost flicked his gaze to Kayla once more, and found her frowning... almost sadly. He didn't want her to be sad, he-

What the fuck?

Frost pushed the memories back into the recesses of his mind. It wasn't real, he told himself. She wasn't real. Just a trick.

And then he opened the car door, and stepped out. Gwen began to open hers, but Frost quickly put a stop to it.

"Stay in the car," Frost said.

"No, I'm coming with you."

"Stay in the fucking car. I'm not gonna' lose you."

Frost slammed his door, put a hand on the pistol in his shoulder holster, and made his way across the street. Kayla wasn't looking at him now. She was studying the menu in her hands.

And that's when Frost jumped the railing to take the seat across from her.

She still didn't look up.

"What in the hell is this? A Shimmer Illusion? Crazy pills? What?"

Kayla, almost seeming annoyed, sat her menu down before clasping her hands together on the table. Then she peered into Frost's eyes, almost killing him right then and there.

"Hello, Hannibal."

A rolling thunder cascaded down Frost's spine as his name slipped from her tongue.

Noticing that he was speechless, Kayla quickly continued. "How long's it been? Truly. Like, three years?"

Frost still couldn't accept it.

Until she reached across the table, and took his hand.

Now he could feel it. Every single emotion, every moment, every memory; they all came rushing back as her skin brushed his. It's really you...

Kayla then pulled her hands back, and smiled sadly. "I hate it for you, Hanny. Your one true love is back..."

And then Frost saw the ring of blue spiderweb into her brown irises.

"And the only reason for it, is to kill you."

Frost sat back, his emotions reeling. He wouldn't accept it. She couldn't be here to kill him...

"What'd you..." Frost couldn't finish.

Kayla only rolled her eyes.

"I was summoned, from the depths of Hell, to end your life," She said, emphasizing every word.

"But... why you?" Frost asked, his voice cracking under the pressure of the situation.

Kayla rolled her eyes again, this time sitting back to study her menu once more. "Give me a break, Hanny. I'm a fucking demon."

That last word hit Frost like a swift kick in the ass. He hated demons. Always had since the possession, and this girl was no different. It might've looked like Kayla, had her voice, but it was really just a monster... hiding behind the most painful disguise.

Frost slowly reached for his pistol, but of course, Kayla saw.

"Don't do that. We wouldn't want to cause a fuss," She said, calm as ever.

Frost glanced to the oblivious faces across the patio, each one happy and blissfully ignorant in their own little world. The demon was right, but Frost... had never been so confused.

Kayla was back, a demon for sure, but she was back. All the questions began to flood him again, each one louder than the other. Did she really want to kill him? Was she under someone else's influence? Could she become human again? Or was there really nothing left?

Frost didn't have the answers, and he thought, he probably never would.

"I don't even have to touch you... and you're already in pain."

Frost glanced up at the sound of Kayla's voice. His eyes were beginning to water, but he held back, clenching his jaw tight.

Kayla flicked her gaze over to the Camaro. "Don't let your new girlfriend see you crying over an old one. In short, stop being a little baby."

"Who sent you?" Frost asked, anger coating his words.

Kayla didn't respond.

"Who sent y-"

Kayla abruptly leaned forward. "What if I sent myself? What if I saw how your little prophecy was going to turn out? What if I want to make sure you fail?"

Frost shut his eyes, a dull pain forming in his temple. "This isn't real. I don't know who you are but-"

Kayla cut him off again. "This really is killing you, isn't it? I don't even have to try. If I keep this up, you'll just off yourself."

And that, finally, broke the man.

Frost went for his pistol, pulled it from the holster, and quickly went to aim down the sights. Unfortunately, the girl across from him was a demon and no amount of quick drawing would usurp her.

The world around Frost erupted and everything fell into static. Pain attacked him from every direction as his body rag dolled inside the oblivion he must've been in. Bones broke, gashes opened up in his skin, and blood bubbled over his lips.

Now, Kayla was standing over him, but she was different. A skin tight suit covered her body, most of the area covered in some sort of flexible, fleshy armor. She was pale now, icy blue tendrils snaking across her face. And her eyes... were piercing. The irises had been completely replaced by an icy blue hue, giving her a truly demonic presence.

And then... she smiled.

"My true form. You like?"

Frost went for his pistol, but it was nowhere to be found. In fact, Frost couldn't see anything that even closely resembled the El Mariachi. He was truly in oblivion.

Kayla, obviously, felt right at home.

"I could kill you, right here and now, but... I won't. I've got plans for you," She said, a sick smile curling her lips.

Frost spat blood. "Just do it."

"And forgo the limitless amounts of pain I could bring you? How demon like would that be?"

"But you're not a demon. This... isn't you."

Kayla paused for a moment, as if to consider the statement, but in the end seemed completely unaffected by it. She only stepped closer to Frost, to peer right down her nose at him.

"I'll enjoy proving you wrong, mortal."

And then Frost's entire world was spun into pain. His blood began to boil, burning through his skin, until there was nothing left but gore and muscle. He couldn't defend himself, couldn't do anything, as everything began to fade...

"Hannibal!"

Frost blinked, the endless pain ceasing all at once, and found Gwen's worried eyes. "Um... yeah?"

She put a hand to his cheek. "What's wrong?"

And that's when Frost flicked his gaze to Kayla once more, and found her smiling... so devilishly.

Frost quickly pulled his gaze back to Gwen.

"I'm taking you back to the Clubhouse," He said, sliding the keys back into the ignition.

"What? Why?"

Frost just couldn't tell her. He couldn't bring himself to let it out. So, he lied.

"This is a waste of our time. The prophecy is coming to a head, and if I'm to succeed, I've got somewhere to be," He said, in one long breath.

Gwen looked confused, worried even. "I don't understand..."

Frost couldn't take the pressure anymore. "Neither do I!"

Gwen turned away, the sting of his words apparently too much for her.

Frost sighed, trying to gather his thoughts, but nothing was working. All he knew, was that amidst the chaos, he really had somewhere to be.

"I've gotta' get on that plane," Frost said, as much for Gwen as it was a reassurance for himself.

And either Gwen was done arguing, or she actually saw the chaos building behind his frail eyes.

"Then go, and don't let us down."

Contract on the Line Match
Damien Fox vs. Atlas Adams

Contract on the Line Ladder Match
Cliff Carson vs. Panzer

Contract on the Line Match
Bonesnapper (with Mathias von Koenig) vs. PX

Hannibal Frost vs. Christian G. Smitten

FMW Abandoned Championship Match
Axel van Osbourne vs. Seth Omega

Clergyman: Go in peace to love and serve the lord.

The cathedral was overflowing with mourners on a miserable fall day. Winter was upon us, a time generally associated with the joy and love of the holiday period, but today, it was as if the skies cried for the passing of one of the gentle pillars of the Full Metal Wrestling community. Sobs echo through out the great vastness of the stone space. Men and women, all dressed respectfully in black, huddle together as the Clergyman addresses the congregation for a final time in the house of God.

There was no escaping the facts at hand, Celeste Rousseau-Roy was dead. Her loss was a substantial one in the industry. It could be said that no individual had been more powerful, nor influential than her. While she had now passed, there was a gaping hole here her vision used to lie. Now, at her funeral, the out pouring of emotion showed exactly how much of an impact this young lady, yet to reach the prime of her life, had left on people.

The casket containing her body was guided down the isle, causing even more people to come to terms with what has occurred. Many people tried to reach forward, trying to touch the coffin one last time, in an effort to pay a final respect before laying her body to rest. A group of Celeste’s family followed the coffin, almost all of them avoiding any contact with anyone other than themselves, as they mournfully consoled each other.

The coffin passes slowly through the doorway of the church and out into the pouring rain. With the coffin out of sight, the living attendees of the funeral begin to follow suit, which includes the FMW Commissioner, Christian G. Smitten. Having attended Celeste’s funeral alone, Smitten was keen to keep a very low profile, and avoid raising hell in this sacred environment because of his actions. He’d situated himself strategically near an exit to the church for this exact reason. To slip out un-noticed.

This didn’t mean by any stretch of the imagination that people hadn’t realised he was in attendance. Many snide comments had been passed in his direction throughout the service, but Smitten allowed them all to flow off like water off a duck’s back. As far as he was concerned, he was only here to pay his respects to one of the fallen members of his extended family.

That’s how Smitten saw the situation anyway. The whole ceremony, he had been in deep thought. Many thoughts crossed his mind, from the amount of bad publicity this little stunt has been thrown at Full Metal Wrestling, to thoughts of how Celeste had proven herself to be more than just a pain in his ass. One very powerful motif played on his mind though.

Cg: That could have been me.

Smitten’s comment went un-noticed by those around him, not that hearing those words pass Smitten’s lips would have changed their opinion of him. Picking up his black overcoat, Smitten gracefully walked out the exit. The early winter chill hit Smitten instantly, with rain now falling thinly to the ground. He spied a dry area, underneath an oak tree. However, this was quickly turning into an unattractive option, with mourners gathering under it to shield themselves from the elements.

Christian G. Smitten opted for the solitude of the rain. It would act as a deterrent for people to approach him, and thus avoid much un-necessary conflict. It didn’t deter everyone though, with a few furious soles approaching Smitten with the intention of speaking their mind.

Celt: The... audacity of you to turn up here... how could you Christian?

Smitten: Calm down. I am here, just like you, to pay my respects.

Celt: If you really wanted to pay your respects, you’d be far away from here.

Smitten: It makes it a bit difficult to thank Celeste for her contribution to my life if I’m not here, doesn’t it?

Bryson: Celeste made a contribution to YOUR life? That’s a bit rich, don’t you think Smitten?

Smitten: I don’t need to validate my opinions to the like of you.

Michaels: I’d actually like to hear this. Tell me, how did Celeste make a contribution to bettering of your life?

Smitten: It’s quite simple, Andrew. When a being comes into contact with another, they instantly form a connection. A connection may be strong, as in a friendship or love. It could be weak, as in someone you purchase a newspaper from and never see again.

Bryson: You’re making this up.

Smitten: Nicholas, I do not make up my beliefs. You see, a connection can also be a positive and a negative thing on both parties. In the case of Celeste and Myself, while much of it was private, we did not have an especially positive relationship.

Celt: Obviously.

Smitten: While her influence was one of negativity, it was still one of great significance on my life. Is it so much to ask that I come and thank her for that after her passing.

Bryson, Michaels and The Celt do not take their eyes off Smitten. Behind them, the motor on the hearse quietly kicks into life. The crowd slowly begins to thin, as people head in the general direction of their vehicles to follow the hearse, taking Celeste’s physical form on its final journey. The Celt grabs Smitten by the tie and drags him in close.

Celt: If you wanted to respect her, you would have told Jaro no!

Drew Michaels steps in and takes The Celt by the shoulder, pulling him away from the Commissioner of Full Metal Wrestling. Smitten remains relaxed as he fixes his tie. Mourners begin to pass the quartet, with Christian feeling the cold, piercing, unforgiving stares of every one of them as they walk by. Calmly and collectedly, Drew, Nick and the Celt begin to walk away.

Smitten: There’s often more to things than meets the eye, gentlemen. Power is corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.

Bryson, Michaels and Celt offer no words as they walk away, ignoring Smitten as they follow the crowd towards their respective cars. Smitten stands there, alone in the rain. People continue to pass him by, eyeing him off, as he waits for the crowd to thin.


Smitten walks in the front door of his home in Salt Lake City, Utah. Tired and jet lagged, he turns on the lights in the dark home. With Kelsey not yet home for the holidays, he didn’t need to worry about making noise.

Smitten: AAAAAAAAAARGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

Smitten threw himself on the couch and instantly slumped. It has been a long and testing day, one he’d hoped he’s never have to experience again for many, many years. Exhausted, he let out a burst of emotion as he began to relax. He looked around the room solemly. Coloring books and homework littered the coffee table, while many of Smitten’s exuberant and expensive luxury items were no longer seen.

Smitten: Where... where did I go wrong?

Above the television sat two framed collectables. While they had been there for a long time, Smitten never really had the time to appreciate them. When he was home, he always seemed to be chasing up business deals, finalising contracts, conducting his own business, or taking care of Kelsey. In his fatigued state, and fragile mind set, something appealed to him in these frames.

Smitten rose slowly to his feet, and approached the memorabilia. They were two moments, captured in time. Both of these frames reflected on a monumental occasion in Smitten’s career. Smitten had seen these many times before, even re-watched the footage for his pleasure, but for some reason, unbeknownst to him, he felt compelled to look at these pictures.

This first was commemorating Smitten’s victory at the inaugural Ultimatum. Having qualified for the Gold Card Gauntlet, many people rated Smitten with little to no chance of walking away with the coveted prize. The much more fancied opponents in Dr. Diaboilical, Adrian and Peter Saint all were heading into the match with more momentum, and had proven themselves much more successfully in big time matches than Smitten ever had.

It was here that Smitten pulled two huge upsets out of his arsenal. By first pinning Peter Saint, and then following it up with a fall on the fresh Adrian, Smitten proved himself worthy of holding the Gold Card – an item guaranteeing the holder an Anywhere, Anytime FMW Championship match up. It was a win that really shocked everyone, Smitten included. But it’s also one which sparked something deep within him. A fury which he needed to fuel.

That fury gave him momentum, which then got shattered. When he decided to use his Gold Card, he had no momentum, and was going nowhere. It lead to the second frame, with a picture of Christian G. Smitten holding the FMW Championship high above his head.

This was not a photoshopped image, nor had Smitten beaten down the FMW Champion and posed with his title belt. Christian Gregory Smitten defeated John “Doc” Derrick at FMW Circus Maximus Two, to capture the FMW Championship. The proudest moment in Smitten’s career would later be revealed as one of false expectation, with him losing the belt in his very first defence. However, Smitten captured the top championship in the federation, and for a brief moment in its growing history, became the man to defeat.

These images, these moments, while showing moments of pride and accomplishment, were not having a positive influence on Smitten.

Smitten: I fucked that up, didn’t I?

Smitten takes the commemorative print of his Gold Card victory off the wall and holds it in his hand for a moment. He looks at it intently, before loosely tossing it towards the couch.

Smitten: Where the fuck did I go wrong? What did I do to blow it?

Smitten walks over to the liquor cabinet attached to the wall beside the TV, and pulls out a bottle of bourbon. He goes to take a glass, before looking at the bottle, and deciding that a glass would be pointless. He unscrews the top of it, and takes a swig.

Smitten: I had it all. Power, success, drive, an unrivalled ability. Yet, I threw it all away... how?

Smitten takes a seat back on the couch, sitting next to the Gold Card print. He picks it up and looks at it again, almost with desperation.

Smitten: I lose to Chris Austin, I lose to Abel Steel, I give it away all together. Now, I have no choice to come back, and I lose to the likes of The Celt? Where the hell did it all go? I was once a feared name in FMW, and a highly respected opponent. Now, I’m... I’m a joke.

Smitten drops the photo and takes another swig of the bottle, this one a much heavier drink than the last one.

Smitten: I’m not even that... I’m someone else’s fucking pawn in their sick and perverted game of chess. I’m getting played like... well... like a deck of cards, and I’m doing nothing to stop it. I’ve become a lost cause.

This was a reality Smitten had been fighting for a long time. For the most part, it had been a successful battle, having been able to stave off the thought that he was now a washed up has been. Falling quickly into depression, Smitten decided he just couldn’t sit here and moap. He had to do something, even if it was as little as getting off the coach and doing some work.


Jaro: Hey buddy!

Smitten: You may have control of the company, but I have control of my office. GET OUT!

Jaro stands in Christian G. Smitten’s office at the FMW Head Office in Nova Scotia, Canada. Jaro’s dressed in his usual “I don’t give a fuck what you think is professional” look, standing over Smitten’s desk like a tyrant, and not the one who holds the FMW Championship. Smitten never even raises his head out from his work to acknowledge the new controlling power in FMW.

Jaro: Oh, come on! I didn’t invite you over for a barbeque and hooker fest on the weekend, and now you won’t even look at me.

Smitten: Jason, please. I’m busy playing Janitor. Can’t you go and run FMW elsewhere.

Jaro: You have got to relax.

Smitten: I can’t relax. People are asking questions. People with more power than you.

Jaro: Nobody has more power than you.

Smitten: The United States Supreme Court are very interested to hear that theory Jason. In fact, they’d like to speak to you intimately on a number of different issues.

Jaro: Yeah, tell them no, and that it was all legal. If they ask more questions, just quote a random paragraph from the contract.

For the first time, Smitten looks up from behind his computer screen and piles of paperwork to look at the man calling the shots. He gives him an almost expectant stare. Jaro grins malevolently back at him.

Smitten: Which part would you like quoted?

Jaro: The part where they can’t touch me will do.

Smitten: “The foresigned member may lawfully and morally complete this unholy act in the eyes of all religions, civilisations and governments”?

Jaro: If that’s what it says. In fact, I think Hannibal Frost would like to be told that.

Smitten says nothing, as his eyes return to his work. He doesn’t say anything, instead, he begins furiously typing. Jaro waits there, wanting a responce out of Smitten, but Smitten doesn’t give him one. After a moment, Jaro responds.

Jaro: I don’t think...

Smitten: I heard. Hannibal Frost needs to be told you’re untouchable. I’ll get right on that.

Jaro: Oh good. For a moment, I thought you didn’t understand.

Smitten: Are you done here Jason?

Jaro: No.

Smitten sighs, which doesn’t go un-noticed by Jaro. He opens his mouth to say something, but is cut off by the ringing of the phone on Smitten’s desk. Smitten reaches out to answer, pulling the receiver to his ear.

Smitten: Commissioner Smitten... excuse me.

Smitten holds his hand over the microphone of the phone and stares at Jaro. Jaro stares back at him, almost glaringly. Smitten takes a deep breath, before opening up and saying...

Smitten: I’M IN A MEETING!!!

He doesn’t look impressed, but Jaro finally gets the message from Smitten, and turns around and exits his office. Smitten puts his head in his free hand, and holds the receiver back up to his ear. He shakes his head as he begins to talk again.

Smitten: Sorry baby... I want to be home tomorrow, but I have a lot of work to do... I know you don’t like boarding school, but it’s the best thing I can do for you...


Having been a recluse and throwing himself heavily into his work ever since the incident, Smitten had very rarely faced the outside world. Avoiding the scrutiny of the outside world have proved extremely difficult, yet surprisingly easy at the same time. While he enjoyed charging limousines and expensive hotels to the company, Smitten found himself missing the simple pleasures of his home life.

The holidays were fast approaching, and Kelsey would soon be allowed home for the Christmas Period. Her boarding school, while expensive, had an amazing holiday period for the festive season, and after all the things he’d had to clean up from this adventure of Jaro’s, Christian was very much looking forward to playing Santa this year.

However, it had come to a point which he’d not looked forward to for some time. Ever since Celeste was killed on the night of Friday November 19th, Smitten had been able to avoid being interviewed by every journalist in North America. In mere moments, he would be facing a room full of them.

This was the first press conference FMW had called in a very long time, and Smitten knew that with the company’s image in tatters, he had to try and take the heat off. In the crowd, he had planted several “agents”. Employees of FMW who would be posing as journalists, asking pre-designated questions. Some were about the murder of Celeste, unfortunately, some had to be. From there though, they moved away, trying to focus on other superstars within the company.

FMW’s own Buster Cherry was there, along side Smitten. He would be the Master of Ceremonies for the conference.

Cherry: You ready.

Smitten: I’m not getting more ready. Let’s just get this horrible ordeal over and done with.

Buster Cherry nods, as he steps away from Smitten. He steps out from behind the FMW Press backdrop, and out of Smitten’s sight. Smitten took a couple of deep breaths in, composing himself before he went out there. As Buster Cherry spoke about Celeste’s passing, Smitten reviewed the questions in his head. It didn’t take long before Cherry uttered the cue for Smitten to appear. Smitten stepped forward, and walked out into plain view of the press. As he approached the microphone, Cherry handed things over to him.

Cherry: Ladies and Gentlemen, the Commissioner of Full Metal Wrestling, the Honorable Christian G. Smitten.

Smitten: Thank you Buster. I’d like to start by echoing Buster Cherry’s sentiments towards Celeste Rousseau-Roy. She was an exceptional individual, with a lot of heart and class. Her loss is a terrible loss for our company. However, from her loss, we will rise, and return to glory in her honor, and reach a level never before reached by professional wrestling. I now open the floor to questions.

The press instantly clamber with their hands in the air. Smitten looks around the room, before pointing to his first dummy journalist. The young lady stands up in her seat, and launches her question.

Journalist: Mr. Smitten, How did the idea for the contract come about between yourself, Jason Roy, Virus and Dunnwood?

Smitten: The federal investigation prevents me from discussing it. Next question. Yes, you.

Journalist: Mr. Smitten, the stock price for FMW has fallen dramatically since the murder of Celeste Rousseau-Roy. Many investors do not want to be seen supporting a company of murderers.

Smitten: I can tell you, having lent my expertise to the financial sector before, a majority of companies on the stock market, while may not literally be murdering people, are getting away with a lot more corrupt things than we are with an ancient contract. Next. You. Go!

Journalist: Mr. Smitten, how do you intend to recognise the memory of Celeste Rousseau-Roy?

Smitten: Our 12.2 series shows will be dedicated to her honor. At this stage that’s all we have planned for her.

Smitten looked about the room. HE saw his next planted journalist standing, waiting to get picked, but a thought crossed his mind. He decided people did not want to hear about the cancelling of the Distortion Division of FMW, and instead, made a radical move to think on the fly. He looked around the room and picked a journalist he’d never met before. Now, he was taking unprepared questions.

Journalist: Mr. Smitten, you claim to be an “Honorable” person, yet after this latest act, how can you even use the title “Honorable” in your name?

Smitten: Excellent question. It is a title bestowed upon me by the United States government for being a fair and impartial judge while I am adjudicating court. It has no bearing on my moral radar, nor where it points. NEXT QUESTION! YOU!

Journalist: Mr. Smitten, why murder? If you wanted Jason Roy to be back at the helm of Full Metal Wrestling, wouldn’t there have been a better, non-violent option available?

Smitten: I’ve already mention, there’s a federal investigation into the matter, I can’t comment on that. YOU!

Journalist: Mr. Smitten, how are the superstars of FMW coping with the loss of Ms. Rousseau-Roy?

Smitten: The superstars are still coming to terms with it. The idea to dedicate our 12.2 series to her came from our superstars themselves. They wanted to honor her memory. It found some resistance within our newly restructured management, but they were eventually reluctant to grant the idea.

Smitten could see that the group of journalists were becoming rowdy. While the conference was early in its length, he could see it needed to wrap up now for the safety of himself and all the FMW employees in attendance. The press could harm each other as he saw fit, but Smitten was in no mood to see something happen which would make his job that much harder.

Smitten: Last question. YOU!

Journalist: Mr. Smitten, your recent return to the ring is one that’s seemingly gone un-noticed compared to the murder. Are these two related.

A juicy question for Smitten to answer. He had so much to say on the topic, but knew he had to hold his tongue. He had to chose his next words carefully.

Smitten: My return to active competition occurred in a way I did not chose. That being said, it was my idea, and my idea alone to return to the ring. The fact that a murder happened within our ranks at a similar point in time should not be taken as an influence on my return. It’s a much more complicated issue than that, one which I don’t care too much about at the moment. Thank you very much, no more questions.

Smitten takes Buster Cherry by the arm and begins to walk quickly with him. The pair quickly get out of the conference room and busily walk through the halls to a safer place. With the press starting to riot in the background, security quickly walk past the pair as they hurry out of harms way.


Christian G. Smitten, having reconveined in his study with the bottle of burbon, sits at his desk. Turning on the computer, he takes another swig from his bottle. Still clearly disgruntled after his reminder from the memorabilia earlier, he slouches in his chair, a posture not normally associated with the FMW Commissioner.

As he sat there, watching the computer boot, and then connect itself to the internet, an unusual urge came over him. Taking another sip from the bottle, he began to plunge deeper and deeper into the depression that was enveloping him. With the computer now on, he took the mouse and clicked the icon for Mozilla Firefox.

The white welcome screen for the browser popped up, and Smitten typed into the search function 3 words.


With his inflated ego, Smitten had never Googled himself. He hit the search button, and waited for a second, before the web browser came back with thousands of hits. His official biography, and recent news items about the murder of Celeste were the first to come up. Smitten chose to skip over them, before coming to a page from Wikipedia. His wiki page.

Clicking the link, not quite knowing what to expect, Smitten was pleasantly surprised to see it was a well construted page. The information it showed was also very accurate.

“Christian Gregory Smitten (or Christian G. Smitten), is a professional wrestling and a judge, currently working as the Commissioner of the professional wrestling federation, Full Metal Wrestling. He was the winner of the inaugural FMW Gold Card, and is a Former FMW Champion.”

Something caught Smitten’s eye on the side of the page as he read. It was the picture they had displayed for him as the main picture of the page. It was one taken at Ultimatum Two, and while hardly flattering, it shows him hitting the Courtroom Assault on former FMW Champion, and former Ally, Eric Scorpio. Smitten looked at that photo for a long time, remembering it as the last bit of success he had in FMW.

Smitten: Wait a minute...

Smitten leapt out of his chair in a hurry. He turned around and opened up his filing cabinet, and began rummaging around in one of the files. He stopped for a moment, and then started again, very slowly, having found the folder in the cabinet he was looking for. It takes him mere seconds, but he finds the piece of paper he was looking for. He violently whips it out of the cabinet and begins studying it. The look on his face is no longer one of despair, one of anguish, but one of malice. A cold calculating look. A look Smitten has made famous.

Smitten: This... this is brilliant. It’s perfect. It’s almost exactly what I need.


The rain still pours heavily as Christian G. Smitten watches the coffin of Celeste Rousseau-Roy lowered into the ground. Many people weep loudly at this, unable to hold their emotions in. Smitten on the other hand, stays extremely composed. Knowing he only has a brief window of opportunity here, before his presence would become extremely distasteful, Smitten walks up to the edge of the grave.

He looks down the 6 foot hole to see the coffin lying there, dormant. The bunch of roses laying on the top of the coffin was a symbol of Celeste’s love for her job, and the warmth she brought to everyone around her. On this cold and harsh winters day, they radiated the joy and emotion Celeste provided mankind with.

Shaking his head, Smitten takes out a card from his pocket and throws it into the grave. On it is marked “Life Member – Full Metal Wrestling”. As it lands on the coffin, Smitten offers some parting words to his fallen colleague.

Smitten: My apologies Celeste. May you rest in peace.

-Corruption 12.2: The Celeste Rousseau-Roy Memorial Show-
LIVE from the Araneta Coliseum in Manila, Philippines

Contract on the Line Match*
Damien Fox vs. Atlas Adams

Contract on the Line Ladder Match*
Cliff Carson vs. Panzer

Contract on the Line Match*
Bonesnapper (with Mathias von Koenig) vs. PX

Hannibal Frost vs. Christian G. Smitten

FMW Abandoned Championship Match
Axel van Osbourne vs. Seth Omega

-Corruption 12.2: The Celeste Rousseau-Roy Memorial Show-
LIVE from the Araneta Coliseum in Manila, Philippines

Contract on the Line Match*
Damien Fox vs. Atlas Adams

Contract on the Line Ladder Match*
Cliff Carson vs. Panzer

Contract on the Line Match*
Bonesnapper (with Mathias von Koenig) vs. PX

Hannibal Frost vs. Christian G. Smitten

FMW Abandoned Championship Match
Axel van Osbourne vs. Seth Omega

Votes can be subject to change.

Votes are locked in for me as I can't wait any longer. I'm pulling double shifts over the next two days so I won't be on at all. Votes are going to those who promo'd, as it seems, is about one per match.

-Corruption 12.2: The Celeste Rousseau-Roy Memorial Show-
LIVE from the Araneta Coliseum in Manila, Philippines

Contract on the Line Match*
Damien Fox vs. Atlas Adams

Contract on the Line Ladder Match*
Cliff Carson vs. Panzer

Contract on the Line Match*
Bonesnapper (with Mathias von Koenig) vs. PX

Hannibal Frost vs. Christian G. Smitten

FMW Abandoned Championship Match
Axel van Osbourne vs. Seth Omega

It’s over...it’s finally over.

You managed to end Matt Dunn’s Full Metal Wrestling Career and kept him from the one thing he has been chasing since he signed the contract.

The thing you took from him meant as much to him as the thing he took from you.

And you flipped the switch in this violent and bloody war, you sent all those volts through his body and left him lying limp and smoking in the chair, you retained your crown as the King of Distortion...and now Distortion along with Matt Dunn is long gone. Now you have come back home, back to Corruption, back to the land of the Ultraviolent where soon you’ll look to become the King of the mountain. Even if it means you have to take out former friends...

Even though I said I would not be back, here I sat in Doctor Singh’s office yet again. This time it was because he had called Smitten and told him I needed time off, so as punishment I was told I had to report to the doctor and get cleared medically before I could even defend my championship belt again. I didn’t wanna admit it, but secretly I had been using the patches to try and get the nightmares to stop. I was sick of waking up in cold sweats missing Annalisa and Mark, I was sick of vomiting every time I tried to eat something, and I was just downright tired of the way shit had been going.

Not that I would ever admit to anyone outside the doctor’s office I had used the patches.

I sat nearly alone in the doctor’s waiting room. That’s part of the reason I liked this doctor’s office so much, it allowed me to sit in peace and quiet before going to see the doctor, which was rare for the big city to have. Most times inside the doctors office you would walk in and there would be 14 screaming asshole kids that I wanted to punch right square in the face because their lazy ass mother would sit in the chair and not move, probably the same thing she did when conceiving the little pricks.

Seth sat in his chair reading a Rolling Stone as the clock ticked loudly in the almost empty room.

Suddenly the door clicked open and a young nurse walks out with a clipboard in her hand.


Nurse: Mr. Corleone the doctor will see you now.

Seth sat his magazine to the side and stood up before walking towards the back of the office. The nurse pointed him towards the examination room and prompted him to take a seat while she checked his blood pressure and other vital items.

Nurse: So have you been using the patches Doctor Singh prescribed you?

Omega: Sadly I have been.

Nurse: And how are the nightmares doing?

Omega: They’re still there...sometimes not as bad.

Nurse: Do you have any abnormal side effects, maybe upset stomach or loss of urine flow?

Omega: I have headaches, lots and lots of headaches.

Nurse: Alright, well your blood pressure is normal, and everything else seems to be fine. The doctor will be in within a couple of minutes to see you.

The nurse walked out the room, and it was silent again. As Seth laid down on the examination table and began to fade away as he listened to the clock ticking.


Omega is standing in a ring with Axel Van Osbourne, who looks dazed...all Seth can hear is the commentators...no fans...no referee...nothing but the commentators.

Flare: It looks like Omega is about to put him away, this could be the big finish!

Boice: Seth stalks his opponent and waits for AVO to turn around!

Flare: Kick to the gut, THE HEART SHAPED BOX CRADLE PILEDRIVER!

Boice: He’s going for the pin, one, two...thr...

Fade to black.

Flare: He’s done it, he has retained the Abandoned Championship for the second time in as many shows!

Boice: He has more successful defenses than Striker’s first reign, Romeo, Hannibal Frost, and as many defenses as TyranT! The heart and soul of Distortion now shines here on Corruption, and that is our main event for the evening...we will see you next time!

Another Match.

Another Win.

Another Paycheck.

More Abuse.

Three more title defenses and I tie Striker’s mark. That’s all it takes to make history, just three more defenses until my name is etched into the annuals of FMW history. I can’t still be called irrelevant because I have made it this far. Now I have to focus on my next goal, the next match, the next title.

A small voice rang into Seth’s head...it was familiar, yet he didn’t quite know who it could be.

Voice: You have to get past this match first Seth.

What? Who are you? What are you doing here?

Voice: Seth can you hear me, Mr. Corleone are you responsive?

With that Omega jolts awake to find himself surrounded by Nurses and Doctor Singh.

Omega: What the hell just happened?

Singh: Well, I think you dozed off and was caught in a nightmare...we couldn’t get a hold of you via saying your name so we had to give you smelling salts.

Omega: So you were the voice...how did you know about my match?

Singh: Excuse me?

Omega: You were talking to me in my head, you were telling me I had to wake up and that I had a title to defend before I could focus on the future.

Singh: Seth I think the stress is really getting to you, you need time off to heal and to rest you’re clearly not thinking right.

Omega: Time off means I lose a job, it means I lose my paycheck, it means I lose my house, and my car, and anything else that might be relevant to me.

Singh: As much as I don’t authorize you getting in a wrestling ring, the THC levels in your brain have slowly resided and obvious sign you’re using the patches. That being said, your stress level is through the roof and your brain has suffered more blunt force trama than the last time. You’re lucky you’re still moving to be frank, and the idea of you getting in a wrestling ring again is enough to send you over the edge. Your heart can’t handle the stress, and it’s likely to give out before your brain does.

Omega: So let me get this straight, you’re telling me that because of chair shots my brain has suffered damage, and because of stress my heart could give out at any minute in the middle of the ring?

Singh: That is correct, your body is heavily damaged from who knows what, you have cuts, bruises, bones have been broken, and your muscles are using too much lactic acid which can cause cramps from being overworked.

Omega: So what now? I retire...go back to my home in Nashville, and live out the rest of my days as a broke down old man who will be lucky to make it to 50? Maybe I could stock shelves, or wash windows to earn a living, maybe that’ll get me through life doc.

Singh: It’s obvious this is very trying to you, I recommend you go home and relax...lay down...and try to take your mind off what you’re doing. If you decide you want to be wrestling then you alone need to take a load off and not think about anything wrestling related. It might be the only way you can prevent killing over of a massive heart attack.

Omega: Fantastic, is there anything else you need to tell me doc?

Singh: I’ll see you next month, I want to monitor your progress.

With that Seth stands up and walks out of the doctors office on his own accord.


Back in Omega’s home.

Seth sits back on his couch and turns his TV via remote. He flips through the channels trying to keep his mind occupied as he lights the joint hanging out of his mouth.

Television: And in today’s news, two men were shot and killed in East Nashville this morning when trying to execute a drug deal with unknown assailants.

Seth flips up and finds ESPN.

Television: And last night’s news the New York Jets got blown to kingdom come by the New England Patriots.

Omega: I’m sure Jaro is going to be happy about that at the show.

Seth flips up again and finds wrestling on the TV.

Television: And Flair has Steamboat in a hammerlock, and Steamboat reverses it into a beautiful arm drag.

Seth sighs and turns off the television and he inhales a large puff from his joint and exhales slowly.

Omega: Jesus fucking christ, no matter what I do or go it always seems like wrestling is part of my life.

Seth uses the other remote to turn on the radio in the far corner. As it lights up and comes to life the sounds of “Parabola” by Tool fill the room as Omega sits back and enjoys the rest of his joint. As he sits the he slowly begins thinking about life.

Life is so weird how it plays out. When I was younger I actually wanted to have an interesting career that nobody else had. Little did I know I’d end up doing just that. People I went to school with ended up being firefighters, policemen, lawyers, doctors, and other jobs. I’d like to meet the motherfucker who said “I wanted to be a wrestler” in high school. I knew I wanted to travel, I knew I wanted to be an entertainer of sorts, but I had no idea that this is what it would amount to being. I never knew I’d be all over Germany, Japan, America, and even Canada showcasing my talents. I never knew I’d be in the middle of a wrestling ring slamming people and getting paid for it, hell when I got started I was just a 16 year old stoner kid who wanted to fly around for shits and giggles.

Now? Over my professional career I’ve held twenty one titles over the course of 7 different feds. I’ve seen just about every continent in the world, most of the countries, and even learned how to speak a tad bit of German. I’ve tried foods I never thought I would try, I’ve seen things I’d never thought I’d see, but still something is missing.

Those other people I went to school with, they got married and had a family. They got to experience something I haven’t, and something at one point and time I wanted to experience. They come home every night to a loving wife and kids, I come home to a bottle of Jack and a bag of weed...and if I’m lucky a whore for the night. Some people consider that the life, getting paid to do very little and having all the booze, weed, and poon you can handle.

I want something simpler in life...I want

Just then his train of thought was broken by the radio advertisement.

Radio: COMING SOON TO BRIDGESTONE ARENA, WWE MONDAY NIGHT RAW! SEE ALL YOUR FAVORITE STARS INCLUDING JOHN CENA, WADE BARRETT, AND EDGE!

Omega: Way to ruin the moment radio.

With the push of a button the radio turns off and Seth stands up before going down to his attic, which also is his own personal gym. He turns on the lights to the downstairs and slowly walks down the creaking steps, he breaths lightly and watches his breath freeze up in the cold room. He walks over to his weight bench and picks up two 45 pound dumbells and begins lifting them high in the air and back down. Exhaling deeply as he continues to lift the weights over and over.

As he continued to lift he kept thinking about where he was in life and where he wanted to be. Omega’s rate of lifting slowed down as he began to question more and more what was next for him.

If I keep wrestling then in due time I’ll be dead, there won’t be a Seth Omega anymore, no wife to marry, no kids to teach, no future. But if I quit wrestling then what do I have left? The only thing that takes away the pain in my body is the fact I know I can go out there and do it again tomorrow. The only substitute for pain is more pain, and the higher the threshold the easier it is to get up in the mornings. It is only when you stop that you feel more and more pain, and then you die. How do you think Ric Flair keeps going after all these years? How did Hulk Hogan continue on after the years of abuse? Terry Funk? It’s the wrestler theory. It’s scientific.

But I can’t raise a family on the road, I can’t have a wife at home while I am in Europe, it isn’t fair to them it, it isn’t fair to me, and it isn’t fair to the organization that I can’t give my all due to me being concerned about my wife and kids.

Seth sits the weights down and sits up for a minute.

Omega: What am I saying? I am not married yet, I don’t have kids I know about, and I can’t just give up wrestling...I actually love wrestling.

And now you’re talking to yourself like a crazy motherfucker.

Seth stands up from the weight bench and shakes his head as if to clear some cobwebs. He walks up the stairs and into the kitchen where he pours himself a shot of Jack. He downs it and shakes his head again, at that moment his phone rings in the kitchen and without much hesitation he answers it.

Omega: Hello?

Smitten:: Omega, your flight to the Philippines has been moved up to tonight.

Omega: What? Why?

Smitten:: We need you there for some fan meet and greets a couple of days before the show, that’s why.

Omega: But my doctor said I nee...

Smitten:: I don’t rightly care what your doctor said, if you want to keep your job and your title you’ll get on the flight tonight. Got it?

Omega: Whatever.

Smitten:: Another thing, we will be deciding your match via the wheel when you get to the arena...don’t fuck this up Omega, this is a big show for FMW.

With that Seth hangs up on Smitten and heads up the stairs to get his bag together for tonight.

-Corruption 12.2: The Celeste Rousseau-Roy Memorial Show-
LIVE from the Araneta Coliseum in Manila, Philippines

Contract on the Line Match*
Damien Fox vs. Atlas Adams

Contract on the Line Ladder Match*
Cliff Carson vs. Panzer

Contract on the Line Match*
Bonesnapper (with Mathias von Koenig) vs. PX

Hannibal Frost vs. Christian G. Smitten

FMW Abandoned Championship Match
Axel van Osbourne vs. Seth Omega

“Life is like a box of chocolates.
You never know what you’re gonna get.”

On that hot, damp, mid- afternoon, I stood with my back turned to the young girl and looked out my hotel window which gave a nice scenic view of Manila bay. I watched as the sun slowly crept towards the water below. I sighed a little at the thought of missing the sunset that was sure to be gorgeous, but I was here in Manila for two reasons. I was to have my FMW debut for Corruption in just a few hours at the famous Araneta Coliseum. I was facing Damian Fox in a contract on the line match. Truthfully though, instead of preparing for the match of my FMW career, I had that other reason for being in this hotel at that very moment.

She was eying my every movement. I could sense it. I rubbed my temples and questioned again why I even had this girl in my room. I slid the dark shade across my window and with my back still turned, I finally spoke to the young girl with what I hoped was a comforting tone.

“How old are you?”

I waited a few moments for the girl to speak, when she didn’t, and I turned around to look at her. What I saw, unnerved me to be honest. The girl had long black hair that covered her almond brown eyes, but that’s not what startled me.

The tears that were pouring down her face did though. Worst part was I didn’t know exactly what to do. Should I comfort her? Should I say something? What should I say? I was starting to panic actually when the girl though her tears finally spoke.

“I’m fifteen years old, sir.”

This girl is fifteen? I started to examine the girl closely and could tell right away that something terrible had happened to her. She was wearing a school uniform, which was ripped and tattered. She had the look of someone who was in shock; like she was reliving the trauma all over again. I walked over to where she was sitting on the bed and knelt down to her level.

“What happened to you?”

When she turned away, I scolded myself for being too blunt. I didn’t know any other way though. As a former assassin, I was trained to pry information out as quickly as possible. Usually that involved torture, but I couldn’t do that here of course, so instead I tried to be reassuring.

“You can trust me. I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

It was then, when I made my first mistake.

I touched her right forearm and feeling my touch; she jumped off the bed and screamed.

“DON’T touch me!” She hissed venomously and then I watched in shock as she slid down to the floor and curled up into the fetal position.

I stood there looking at her for a moment. She looked so fragile, I just wanted to help but it looked like I made things worse.

Nice going, Atlas.

I took out my cell phone and looked at the time. Shit. I had to be at the Coliseum in an hour and it was a forty- five minute drive at least with traffic. Damn, I wished I got a hotel closer! If I had though, I would have never ran into this terrified young girl. I was out jogging earlier that morning when this girl literally ran into me. I looked towards the alley she had come from, but saw nothing suspicious.

When the girl got up, she had tried to just run away but she screamed in pain and started limping on her ankle. I called after her and told her that I had ice in my room for her ankle. Now, normally I don’t invite strangers and I didn’t expect for her to nod and follow, but she did. Now, hours later I had to go to the Corruption show or I’d be fired. What was I gonna do with this girl? Coming to a decision, I closed my phone and walked over to the girl and crouched down.

“Listen,” I started. “I gotta go to work. If I don’t, I’ll lose my job. I might lose my job anyway. Now, you can stay here and wait for me or you can leave after I’m gone and disappear. It’s your choice.”

I waited for a response, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t get one, so I turned around and grabbed my duffel bag. I slung it over my shoulder and started walking towards the door.

“Don’t leave me, please?!!” She pleaded at my back. I turned around and saw her standing, shaking with tears in her eyes.

“I have to. I can’t miss this…”

Shaking her head, the girl interrupted me. “I’ll go with you then.”

My initial response was to say no. I couldn’t bring a teenager to the show tonight, backstage no less. But as I looked at her and saw the desperation in her eyes, I just couldn’t say no. There was one thing I needed to know though.

“Okay, but on one condition. What’s your name?”

The girl looked down at her dirty, brown shoes and I was sure she was gonna shut down again, but then she looked up, resolve in her brown eyes.

“My name is Kelly Lee, sir.” She cracked a small smile. “What’s your name, sir?”

I just realized I hadn’t told her my name. I nodded at Kelly and cracked a smile of my own.

“It’s Atlas and yes, my parent’s loved Greek mythology.”

Her smile grew and then she laughed. It was small and quickly faded into an uncomfortable frown but it happened. I looked at my watch, saw I was running late and I nodded at Kelly.

“How bout you go and clean up a bit and then we can go to the show.”

She nodded, smiled at me and headed for the bathroom. I watched as the door closed, waited for the water to turn on and when it did, I quickly grabbed my jacket and bag. I reached the door, looked at the bathroom for a moment and smiled lightly.

“I’m glad I could make you laugh Kelly. Goodbye.” I whispered.

I exited my hotel room and quickly got on an elevator. Two minutes later, I was in a cab, heading for the Araneta Coliseum.

It was twenty minutes before Corruption started. Twenty- five minutes before my music started and where was I? In the Corruption locker room pondering my decision to leave Kelly behind; it wasn’t actually a tough decision. This place was her home and if she came with me, she’d only get attached. Next thing you know, she’s begging me to take her to America. Then she’s living with me and it’s just a big mess. Crazy thing was I would have gotten attached too. I know it’s crazy, but I need someone to connect with. My family is all but dead, my ex wife should be dead and my kid? I shouldn’t even have a kid. So while I made the right decision to leave Kelly behind, I knew it was only a matter of time before I would break down and try to connect with someone, anybody, anything.

“Damn, I really need to find a substitute for this loneliness.”

A short, bitter laugh escaped my lips as I began tying my boots. I looked around, noticed that everyone else had left and started to softly speak to myself.

“I should be focused on Damien Fox. A man I would call my polar opposite. He doesn’t take this job seriously. I can tell. It’s all about the money, woman and drugs that come with this job. It could be a facade to throw off his peers, but I don’t respect people who feel the need to hide their true self’s from others. It comes off as fake. I’m anything but a fake. I wear my heart my sleeve. I love to wrestle. There is nothing I would rather do and I will be dead before I don’t give one hundred percent in that ring.

I came to FMW to get away from the distractions. I always seem to find them regardless, but no one and certainly not Damien Fox will stop me from becoming one of the FMW greats. The only one that can stop me…”

I stopped and looked up to see an FMW Security guard standing at the door. The man looked nervous.

“Can I help you?”

The man nodded. “Mr. Adams, Your match is up next.”

I rose from the bench, stretched my arms and nodded my thanks to the guard. I watched as he left and I went up to a sink and began washing my hands. Looking in the mirror, I grinned at myself.

“Is me.” Shutting off the water, I headed for the stage as Natural Born killer began to blast though the Coliseum.

-Corruption 12.2: The Celeste Rousseau-Roy Memorial Show-
LIVE from the Araneta Coliseum in Manila, Philippines

Contract on the Line Match*
Damien Fox vs. Atlas Adams

Contract on the Line Ladder Match*
Cliff Carson vs. Panzer

Contract on the Line Match*
Bonesnapper (with Mathias von Koenig) vs. PX

Hannibal Frost vs. Christian G. Smitten
Both pretty damn good. Match of 12.2 so far.......

FMW Abandoned Championship Match
Axel van Osbourne vs. Seth Omega

Contract on the Line Match*
Atlas Adams

Contract on the Line Ladder Match*
Cliff Carson

Contract on the Line Match*
Bonesnapper (with Mathias von Koenig)

Hannibal Frost

FMW Abandoned Championship Match
Axel van Osbourne vs.Seth Omega

Contract on the Line Match*
Atlas Adams

Contract on the Line Ladder Match*
Cliff Carson

Contract on the Line Match*
Bonesnapper (with Mathias von Koenig)

Hannibal Frost

FMW Abandoned Championship Match
Seth Omega

Takashi Matsu sat in solemn silence. The moment that had past was surreal, and even now, minutes later, its still replaying in his mind, leaving his body transfixed to the spot. He had received a message from the devil himself, with the expectation to deliver it in anonymity. How could any self respecting officer of the law do as a criminal has asked him? The answer is one who is afraid; one who values his life above his morals, and fears death. And Matsu is very afraid. This night has almost been a culmination of his fears. He saw death itself when that devil appeared; every word he spoke piercing him, inciting the fear instilled in him. How ironic it is for a man to fear the man he chases, but then, this job, for Matsu at least, was about catching criminals, not demons.

Matsu, snapping from his trance, picked up his weapon from the ground where it had been thrown. He shivered, feeling the lingering heat from the hand that grasped it, reminding him of the face. On his gun, a small note has been attached to it. On this note is an address. Matsu recognised the address. It is on the outskirts of the city, in the old projects. “It must be the place he wants the confrontation”, thought Matsu. It was then Matsu realised that this deadly game’s conclusion would be played on the enemy’s terms. He also considered the possibility that perhaps this is the place he’s been hiding all this time. But it was impossible; they had searched all these buildings before after all in thorough fashion. The conclusion they were running on was that he’d taken a nomadic stance to hiding; forever on the move. Even so, could this be where he is right now? And what of this other character in this plot? Is she a conspirator? She didn’t seem to be from the scene he had witnessed. How many of the deaths could she responsible for? Is it possible she did it all, that this devil they are chasing is the façade of it all?

Matsu slumped to the couch once more. There is so much to consider, but he is simply too tired to process all the ideas. His body is crying out for the brain to shut down, so it can rest, but the fear is acting like a drug, like coffee, keeping the tank running on empty, clocking up mileage it shouldn’t be. He clutched his weapon as he sat there, unable to sleep, yet almost unable to function at the same time, in what seemed like a horrible limbo. Sitting with that feeling, knowing things need doing, and just not having the strength was agitating. As his muscles ached for his body to rest, Matsu was bracing himself for a long… sleepless… night…

…

…

Matsu awoke, jolting upright. The lights in the office pierced his eyelids as he slept. He looked around in a daze. Allen and Davis had arrived for work. Seeing them triggered a gut feeling in Matsu. His thoughts flashed back to the night before, realising the deed that must be done. He probably looked a mess. His brow felt moist, and as he wiped it, he only then noticed that his hand was still clenching the gun from the night before. Seeing it confirmed his fears. He had hoped for an outside chance that maybe it was all the dream, that that demon had never appeared, and that today could be just another day. But then, there it was, shaking as his hand is. Turning it over, there was that address, that devilish writing. It made him feel cramped in his stomach, and he knew in any minute his colleagues would notice the expression on his face. They stopped in front of him. The discomfort was clear to them, but then, it’s not much of a difference to Matsu’s usual expression these days.

“Matsu, are you feeling alright? You look like you’ve had another long night.”

Matt Davis, always a man to show concern. He squatted to Matsu’s level to look him in his dark, exhausted eyes.

“I’m fine. Just had trouble sleeping is all.”

I’m fine. Possibly the greatest lie ever told. Everybody is always fine. Matsu was feeling especially “fine” today, knowing the deed he may perform to day. It clawed at his thoughts; they tried to search the positives of the situation.

Is it really all that bad to deliver this message? There’s no reason to fear, if we confront him, we can easily beat him! It’ll be easy, we can go in with a plan; we can work out exactly what to do, and finally nab this bastard! Yeah, it’ll be so sweet, seeing his face as his masterstroke falls flat on its face.

But then, that feeling can never be shaken, knowing this man. This is HIS idea. It will go as HE planned it, he’s probably considering every option, every possible situation and preparing for it. It will be a trap, and we’re going to walk right into it, and there’s no way around it. All because of one man’s cowardice, that he cannot escape.

Matsu, in all of his deliberation, didn’t realise Allen and Davis had already moved into office, and are discussing whatever it is they’re discussing. It’s time to deliver the demon’s plan.

“It has to be something bold, Davis. Our traditional tactics, they’re just not working. We have to move outside the box, out of our comfort zone to bring him down. If only it weren’t so hard to track this man. We have to come up with something, there’s no way around it now. A game plan is needed.”

Matsu walked into the room, and was greeted by the eyes of Davis and Allen. Matsu’s breathing was heavy, but he knew now was the time.

“I think I know what to do, Sir.”

“Let’s hear it then, Matsu.”

“A… A confrontation, sir.”

“Confrontation? What have you got in mind?”

There was no stopping now. The grand plan, the one to end this game was about to be uttered. Matsu took his seat in a slow, calculated matter, leaving his arms under the table. He was still grasping that weapon, after all.

“If we make an agreement with him, to meet face to face somewhere, so that we can resolve this once and for all, we may be able to catch him. He’s faced us before, so he wouldn’t fear us. He’s obsessed with playing with us, so let’s play his game, and beat him at it.”

“This plan… It sounds very dangerous. I like it. It’s the kind of bold action we need to take.”

“But Matsu, would he ever agree to this?”

“I know he would.”

It was then his arm rose, leaving his weapon down on the table, the address showing.

“This address, is it from… Him?”

“Attached it to my weapon, yes.”

“That would mean he would be ready for this sort of action from us.”

Allen takes the weapon, and removes the attached label. Turning it over, he spots more writing, which he greets with raised eyebrows.

“A phone number. “Call when you’re ready to make it happen xxx” is written here as well. Sounds like he’s gonna be waitin’ for us there. I guess we’ll have to be ready for him.”

“Sir? Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

“There’s nothing else for us to do, Matt. This is what it’s come to. We knew we’d have to take risks in this job, gents. I’m afraid this is it. It will end one way or another. I couldn’t live with myself knowing I didn’t try everything I could to stop him.”

“We’re with you, Sir.”

“It’s settled then. That leaves a phone call to make then...”

“Sir, wait!”

Matsu grabs Allen’s arm before he can leave his seat.

“Matsu, this is what we’re…”

“Sir! Have you ever considered there could be someone else in all of this?

“Matsu, what are you talking about? We have seen this man with our eyes! He tells us of his plans, we know this is the man we seek!”

“But what if… What if he’s just a face? What if he’s never killed anyone himself, what if he has someone else doing the actual dirty work?”

“Matsu, where is this coming fr…”

“I saw someone. I saw another person with him. There’s somebody else we have to think about now. She could be as much of a threat as he is! It’s not that kid either, I don’t who she is, but I saw her, she moves at incredible speed!”

“Sir, since we haven’t witnessed the recent murder’s we’re investigating, nor have we had witnesses once, it’s entirely possible someone else is committing these crimes.”

Allen strokes his chin. In his mind, he hasn’t trailed far from the game plan, but this revelation changes things. If the confrontation happens, will she show up?

“Are you sure of this, Matsu?”

“Positive.”

“Maybe then, this girl is the ace up our sleeves. Maybe He is counting on her to show up, and take us out. Could that be his plan?”

“Perhaps he intends we show up unarmed, hoping that “she” will show up and take us out.”

“If that’s the case, He clearly sees her as dangerous then. We’ll have to be ready. If he asks us not to bring our weapons, it means we bring them anyway. I’m not taking any chances with this one. Matsu, we may have him with this one. When we make the call, pay attention to his words. We might get lucky.”

Suddenly, the butterflies cleared from Matsu’s stomach. He was feeling confident once more. Suddenly it seems like the good guys can win this. Matsu can’t hid his smile, and after all those sleepless nights, he’s finally looking forward to this call, and confronting his demon.


“It’s a good day to be bad!”

Sitting in a comfortable chair, his feet on the table in front of him, PX is truly in comfort, staring out the window, looking out on a beautiful day. He is without a care in the world it seems. PX has been in a good mood as late, and today is no exception.

“You’re pretty pleased with yourself, I see”

“Of course I am Eric! This plan that I have dreamed up, it came from within me, a stroke of genius, and today is the day it all comes together. Right now, they speak of it. I’m expecting the phone call any minute. Why wouldn’t I be happy?”

“… Because your about to condemn the lives of people? I don’t know…”

PX can’t help but grin. He spins in his chair to face Eric.

“Oh Eric, let me tell you something about the “ethics” of what I’m doing. This is my decision I’m making, this is me dealing with those who have wronged me. How can a man be happy if he has no self-respect? And how can I respect myself if I’m not in control of myself, making my own decisions and actions? I am right because I say I’m right. Nobody else can tell me how to behave but me. That is key to life. I call it Freedom. I obey my own laws, and nobody else’s, because I am free. My conscience is my only true law, and I obey it so. It’s pointless to tell a man what to do when he knows what he really wants. That is what Freedom is, and I am so very proud to be free.”

PX’s speech is interrupted by music to his ears; the sound of his telephone ringing. His face shines with delight, and he scoops it up instantly,

“Evening, Major!”

“We’re ready to deal.”

“Three Days. One o clock. No weapons, please. I’m a man of my word, and I will not be carrying arms. See you then.”

PX slams down the fun, and raises his arms in triumph.

“Stage set, Eric! Time to start preparing you!”

“Me? I thought you said I wouldn’t have to do anything for this!”

“If all goes right, you won’t Eric, I promise. But I can’t take any chances; I need to prepare you for my Plan B, if I find myself in trouble. After that unwanted arrival last night, I suspect that they suspect her now. Allen is not a stupid man. If they manage to catch her, I’ll need you in the shadows, ready to do the job she should have done.”

“Does this mean what I think it does?”

“Indeed it does. It’s time for some target practice. But have no fear Eric, you are of steady hand and a fine shot as it is. Nothing can go wrong now. We have them.”


“It’s just like we expected, he wants us armless. If we can catch her out, we will have him.”

“Yes! We’re gonna get ‘em! We’ve got him in the bag now!”

“Heh. It looks like nothing can go wrong now Matsu. This will take some careful planning, but yes, we might just have him now.”

Contract on the Line Match*
Damien Fox vs. Atlas Adams

Contract on the Line Ladder Match*
Cliff Carson vs. Panzer

Contract on the Line Match*
Bonesnapper (with Mathias von Koenig) vs. PX

Hannibal Frost vs. Christian G. Smitten

FMW Abandoned Championship Match
Axel van Osbourne vs. Seth Omega

Haven't had the time to read that many promos, trying to get my own done so that's why Im not voting on all the matches.

Contract on the Line Match*
Atlas Adams

Contract on the Line Ladder Match*
Cliff Carson

Contract on the Line Match*
Bonesnapper (with Mathias von Koenig)
Christian G. Smitten

FMW Abandoned Championship Match
Seth Omega

Contract on the Line Match*
Atlas Adams

Contract on the Line Ladder Match*
Cliff Carson

Contract on the Line Match*
PX

Christian G. Smitten
Coin flip was not kind to Frost

FMW Abandoned Championship Match
Seth Omega

-Corruption 12.2: The Celeste Rousseau-Roy Memorial Show-
LIVE from the Araneta Coliseum in Manila, Philippines

Contract on the Line Match*
Damien Fox vs. Atlas Adams

Looking for a rematch buddy.


Contract on the Line Ladder Match*
Cliff Carson vs. Panzer

Contract on the Line Match*
Bonesnapper (with Mathias von Koenig) vs. PX

Hannibal Frost vs. Christian G. Smitten

FMW Abandoned Championship Match
Axel van Osbourne vs. Seth Omega

-Corruption 12.2: The Celeste Rousseau-Roy Memorial Show-
LIVE from the Araneta Coliseum in Manila, Philippines

Contract on the Line Match*
Damien Fox vs. Atlas Adams

Contract on the Line Ladder Match*
Cliff Carson vs. Panzer

Contract on the Line Match*
Bonesnapper (with Mathias von Koenig) vs. PX

Hannibal Frost vs. Christian G. Smitten

FMW Abandoned Championship Match
Axel van Osbourne vs. Seth Omega

Thank you for voting, everyone. Locking this shit down.