OOC. Reading 'Linchpin' from this week's match will help you understand the entirety of the situations more.

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A slandered human line,
Beneathe the bedding,
Five men possible Kennedy donors,
While others witnessed a beheading.

Maybe his mind is too full,
To process the entire picture,
Maybe Kitt will rot like wool,
When it is wet without a filter.

Escape is not only for him,
But for the things done here,
No matter how many men,
Their approach will be in fear.

Upon 'The following' Bear calls,
The martyrs of shadows last,
To make the thrown possible,
No matter what it asks.

Setting a fire to all that was mine.
Cinder left through cold fingers,
In senses combustibly over time,
Arson of sifting swingers.

Bravado of jealousy and spite,
Careless type of ignitor,
Melodic flames from white lighters.

Resilient culprits in rare form,
Piecing gasly smoke together,
Whistling at swirling ember swarms.

Calming chaos indulges each,
Shaking hands while smirking,
Smoldering senses erased with bleach.

Chemical reasons to take lives,
Balancing hate in this life,
To take the worst and become the night.

Rather than watch me crumble to ash,
'The following' shed tears and begin to laugh,

Left off their perches,
Kitt's answers near,
The world still searches,
But never do they disappear.




ThE WiTcH DoCtOr | BEAR BRADDOCK | 'Disappear'


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Prelude. ||



A scrolling CNN instant report, the news anchor talks while a video plays showing the ruins of an arena burned steadily with a warning for younger viewers that what they are about to see is for mature audiences only.

Ladies and gentlemen... tonight we come to you shaken by the story of a normal man who maybe because of profession or illness has plunged into a streak of violence the likes of which only seen in the movies.

Picture reels of Bear Braddock and each incident described circulate on the bottom of the screen.




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Sometime earlier this week, this man who is now known by 'The Witch Doctor', a wrestling alias in the XWF professional circuit, showed up to an event with the head of a dismembered man he kidnapped late last week. Police believe that man to be Jacob Kelley. A father of two, and former member of another XWF star's following called the 'Kitt Kennedy Fan Club', based in St.Louis, Missouri. Facts are still being confirmed but it is believed that Braddock used parlor tricks and fire to burn an arena full of paying customers at a non-televised show. Then a day later was seen in plain daylight kidnapping a UPS driver. Then poisoning him, before using the cover to get the remainder of the group at their headquarters in the... Palm Apartment complex.

If you see this man proceed with EXTREME CAUTION, AUTHORITIES ASK THAT YOU CALL IMMEDIATELY AND DO NOT APPROACH HIM. HE IS BELIEVED TO BE ILL AND ARMED AND VERY DANGEROUS.


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Scene. ||

Backstage at the next XWF event rumors and whispers can be heard among the performers. Everyone on edge with a wanted fugitive amonst their signees and scheduled to compete on Saturday night. Security teams hold ears pieces tight waiting for word in case anything abnormal occurs. A guard standing in nearly every dressing room to ensure extra precautions. The entire roster wondering when and where to go in order to proceed about their normal business cautiously.



In the arena smoke begins to billow in from the floor. People stand up ready to bolt as word has spread in news reports and word of mouth what happened earlier in the week. The screen illuminates with "You must know...", before Bear Braddock's familiar voice once again echoes the words below...

Authority can make us feel protected...

When lives we know become dejected...

The whispering wind tells the tale...

Of all we fear and still can fail...

In ritual sacrifices the world can learn...

Not every ounce can melt and burn...

Still lies a comfort of what is to be...

The simmering chances fading of one... Kitt... Kennedy...

The lights fade, a single spotlight illuminates a single point in the rafters. A black and white painted face. The guards in the seating point up and quickly send out the message over intercom to get up there quick. A few moments later another spotlight in the middle rows. Another black and white painted face begins to run up the steps, narrowly avoiding a guard. A third spotlight near the announce table, as a black and white face hops onto the table, then sprints up the stage and behind the curtain. The voice tauntingly gets louder.

WHO. HA. HEE. HA!

The shot shows guards all over the arena in back chasing in different directions, running into eachother and out the back altogether. Several minutes pass as the crowd grows impatient. Just like that, the spotlight returns, to the center of the ring, where Bear Braddock yearns...



A point was made at a heavy cost. All you here think that you may soon be lost... but the righteous purpose you forget as it seeps, out of your heads and evaporates into me... is that as you see what you believe to be true, as your energy enters me from what you lose... recall that traders like Kitt Kennedy can borrow and sell, but what good is trash when from his efforts it fell?

Slowly the event staff rounds up what security that has not bandoned their posts and directs them toward the ring. They slowly congregate, gameplan, then sorround the ring from all points in the building, then begin to walk slowly toward Bear as he continues his sermon.



My systematic means to prove to him, that no alliance can save what is already too thin. It may be menacing, or you might not have the stomach, but now Kitt can never be secure that his well-being will not soon plummitt. An iota can give him morsils of reason, to wrestle as he always has, even in this hallowed season. But once he steps foot into the squared coffin Saturday brings, the presence should escape his eyes when he looks back at me. I will be there, and free to do the bidding, of stopping Kitt Kennedy's bad habit of poor performance equaling winning.

The remaining guards sorround the ring, cornering Braddock as it would seem. He looks up and hollars into the stars, they collapse on his location to find no physical person near or far. The Xtron plays, the other guards still chasing the three Bear doppelgangers, who still lead the pacing.



Into a meadow the three come to merge, in the center stands Bear on a star circled symbol ready to purge; catching their breath the security teams converge. The three begin to dance around eloquently synchronized: the security team is left motionless, awe struck by the gift they have been granted. Into tall flames the shadows of Bear begin to smoulder then fall to ash, his three martyrs skip into the darkness as the stunned guards are left transfixed on the burning symbol that's left cast.

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Fade. ||