The screen begins to shake, and down the hallway is blaring sirens, screams of terror and pain. The lights flickering as the klaxons roar and the lights begin to change color, not of their own volition, but because blood begins to fly through the hallway, beginning to coat the walls.

"Death of man, begins again.

Death of man, begins again.

Death of man, begins again.

Death of man, begins again."

These words are said in a sing-songy way, as the camera gets closer and closer to the source of the voice. The creature standing tall, with one hand wrapped around the throat of a soldier, the other digging into his stomach before yanking, pulling the body in half, causing the blood to fly through the corridor, splashing across walls, tables, chairs and the very ceiling itself.

"The death of a man's soul, begins again. As I claim this life, like I have claimed many others."

His voice somewhat muffled, as he turns to face his interdimensional camera, and a mask is upon his face. No expression, nothing except a blank canvas.

"Centurion, you are nothing more than an insignificant skin mite. Do you help? Sure. But I'd rather be rid of you."

He chuckles softly under the mask.

"For a long time, I have been asking for you all to believe in me. Yet none believed. None truly showed to care about me, except the only wrestling family I have: BOB.

I tried so hard, to keep my demons at bay. I tried so hard, to be different. To change my course in life in the XWF. To see if I could bring a new generation into a new family. To usher the age of the new blood into the company, but none truly believed.

I am a destroyer and that will be wholly apparent at Anarchy. Centurion, Ricky, both of you will feel the pain of what I tried to hold at bay.

You will feel suffering that is beyond human comprehension. A destruction that no human should ever experience or know of.

Short and sweet, I will say thus:"


He laughed softly

"Run. Run far away....

Or die."