"It's almost insulting now."

The camera feed fizzles to life through a haze of electronic noise and visual static tearing. Illuminated by what must be a series of candles placed around the dark room, he sits at an angle, speaking to someone just off-screen to the right. There it all is -- the enunciated manner of speaking, the bedraggled and unkempt appearance, the thrift-shoppe formal wear. There is no denying who this man is.

Well, perhaps "man" isn't exactly the right word.

"It's like I'm an overweight house cat, and all the higher-ups do is feed me Wendy's french fries."

He snickers, and his company from across the white-clothed table returns a slight giggle. But the Ancient One's light-heartedness is broken by a stiff, unnatural cough from behind the lens. Mystica freezes in place for a moment before looking to the person behind the camera.

"What?" he asks, sounding annoyed.

"We're uh...we're rolling."

"Ah, hell!!" he snaps, moving to accommodate the new atmosphere of seriousness by smoothing out the many wrinkles in his pale blue dress shirt. With smooth, seemingly practiced cadence, he rolls up the cuffs of his sleeves before finally turning to face the camera.

"Let it be known that I do not appreciate surprises," he says with a malice that could chill the blood, "but I've been handed surprise after surprise this past week. Goodness, I could hardly muster the half-hearted interest to pay attention. Here I thought I was facing Mark bloody Flynn one-on-one for that scrap of trash championship. But then came the first swerve, driving recklessly out of the left lane to cut across three lanes of traffic without so much as a damned turn signal! Oh, looks like Flynn fell back on his duties and got himself pinned. Pity that. Guess I'll be facing whoever pinned h-- oh! Look at that, a triple threat! Gosh, I'd have been shaking in my boots if I wore such classless footwear, were it not for the fact that Flynn turned his tail and ran. Fine by me. One less quivering bowl of flesh to disintegrate in front of millions."

He sighs and reaches into his grey blazer's inner pocket and removes a pack of unlabeled cigarettes. After fumbling through his other pockets in vain, he motions at his unseen dinner guest with a flicking gesture. A second later, a pale, svelte hand reaches into frame and hands him a lighter. After lighting up his smoke, Mystica plaintively tosses the mechanism back to his assistant off-screen.

"But here's the thing," he continues, drawing long and hard on the cigarette before exhaling a huge plume of smoke, "I never did bother looking into this mythical "man who broke Flynn" in detail until recently. I saw the name on the card...Griffin...and I nearly got excited. I was caught up in the thought of eviscerating my old pal, MacAlister, on live telly. But imagine my great disppointment to find that this similarly-named -- and therefore utterly unoriginal -- sorry excuse for a champion. Turns out, this little boy is no myth. He is flesh, blood, and shame, just like the rest of this miserable human populace. No one important, really. Just another name-to-be on the list of those who approached The Maw of Oblivion and fell before the scythe like the innumerable others before them. And really, that's all this match is going to be: a harvest; a slaughter of the one lame calf in the field brave enough to lock horns with inevitable death."

Another drag on the cigarette. From off-screen, the flicking of the lighter is heard again, and a new cloud of smoke flutters in from just right of screen. Mystica's gaze is drawn to the source of this white fog. His upper lip curls up in disgust.

"Goodness's sake, Annie," he says in pity, clucking his tongue at his young protege, "don't take up such a filthy habit. Do as I say, not as I do. It's a bloody expensive habit, and you have yet to stake out financial security...by which I mean, steal a fortune under a false identity and murder the owner of said bank account."

There is a snort of amusement in response, and another cloud of smoke from Mystica's devoted apprentice. The Old One can only shake his head in response and turn back to the matter at hand.

"So, what is to become of this "Griffin" fellow? Well...have you ever made sausages? He'll end up a lot like that: a bucket of semi-liquid meat, forced into a tight container and stored in my freezer. If I owned a freezer. Metaphor aside, I don't think anyone quite understands what is going to happen to this unfortunate boy trying to do a man's job. I'm going to smash his ugly little head in and watch him bleed out on the mat. This is an XTreme match, after all. Isn't it just perfect for someone like me? If you pay attention to me -- pay attention to the harbinger of the coming end, you know what I am capable of. The very contemplation of my deeds throughout the annals of history have driven even the best and brightest into the bonds of insanity. The human mind is not designed to cope with my existence, let alone the crimson-stained fact of my many, horrific actions of utmost terror. In the unlikely event that Griffin survives our encounter, he will nevertheless remain haunted for the rest of his days. He will be kept awake at night throughout his mid-life crisis, and the very last thought imagined by his shattered mind on his deathbed will be the memory of the day he came face-to-face with the incomprehensible and failed to have the good manners to lie down and die."

With his last phrase came a glare into the camera, summoned from the deepest depths of a night terror's possibilities. Even behind the lens, knowing it wasn't directed directly at her, Zahra Nassar couldn't help but shiver. Those eyes had locked on her many a time before, but never like this; never as an enemy. They were the frozen core of the ocean, so deep and dark a blue, Zahra felt all at once the utmost capacity of fear, but at the same time, a tranquility, like falling into a long sleep that had been waiting for her and all the earth since the dawn of time.

Achievements

• 1x Tag Team Champion
  
• August 2013 Superstar of the Month (Thank you all so much!)
  
• 1x US Champion
  
• 1x X-treme Champion