"Imagine it being 2017, and still thinking making jokes about Peter Gilmour's weight are comedic, and interesting. Of course someone whose entire idea is a rip off of a Halloween store display is a good idea to do in this company. Naturally the opinion of someone of that caliber is one that should be taken completely seriously, right? But let's give you some credit, because at least you're not acting like a giant Heath Ledger rip off, you're just being a rip off of every horror movie since the Ring, with the Ring included. But keep talking trash, it's just a tool to hide your ineptitude. And yeah, I called you and Neville inept. You can talk about him allegedly beating me, but who took the pin? Not me in any of those situations. Neither Neville nor Brooks pinned me. Congrats, you're next in line for the TV title, go ahead and go for the title, then you'll lose and prove that you're not that good.

I did directly reference you being in line for the title, you know? I'm having to repeat myself about you taking your shot. Are you going to keep talking about having it, just so you can feel like an important big man, but you'll never take it by choice. Because you know you're not up to snuff, you're only good for outdated jokes and cheap gimmicks. You're a real dangerous person, right? That's what you want to show us with all your spoopy doopy crap, and cheap scare tactics. Step up and prove you're more than a person hiding behind cheap paint and crawling around. Show me you're actually a fraction as worth being in the ring with me. And god help you if Robbie Bourbon is actually the best in the company, and not only champion because James Raven actually didn't give a crap about the match. The latter seems more likely, but I guess if you think being spoopy is unique and interesting, then you probably believe Robbie is the top guy.

Until you grow out of your Hot Topic phase, and quit stealing things from every horror movie with a below average rating on Rotten Tomatoes, I'm done addressing you."

Ketevan steps out of the small room they were hiding in to record this, and notices the building they're in is virtually empty. Something falls to the left of them, in the distance. They turn and look to see what it was, and there's nothing there. To the right, there's another thud, and then the feeling of wind blowing towards Ketevan brings back memories, and anxiety from before. They began to have a panic attack; struggling to breath, weight pressing on their chest, the walls closing in, hands tingling, causing them to open and close them over and over, and a deep feeling of fear washing over them. "Not again, please god not again," they think as the wind blows and the fear pushes them down.

The presence of a shadow lingering around Ketevan pushes deep into their psyche, and rattles their nerves, making the seconds since leaving the recording space feel like days. Ketevan can feel their hair withering, and their hands begin to ache with an age that betrays their youth. The saliva in their mouth has begun to dry, and the tongue is numbing. Words cannot begin to form in the desert that is become the mouth. The eyes water, and blink repeatedly. More than normal. All of the moisture from the mouth has not gone to their eyes, and it begins to drip down their face. Tears now stream down their face. The second hand on the clock ticks, slowly, but loudly. Tick, pause, tick, pause, tick, pause. And then more weight is pressed onto Ketevan's chest. The room is going blurry, and Ketevan can't fix it. They wipe their eyes, and it doesn't clear up.

"Kill the Kulaks!" A voice screams inside Ketevan's ears, they can't see if there's anyone around. The words echo and reverberate, over and over. "Kill all Kulaks!" louder now, Kill all Kulaks! and louder KILL ALL KULAKS! The words are inescapable, and everywhere. Ketevan begins to shake, and panic harder. All control over their body is now gone. The breathing doesn't even feel like they're doing it at this point. As if someone else is breathing for Ketevan.

Words begin to form in Ketevan's mouth, and manage to escape their lips, which feel as if they've dried out. The words are dusty, and empty, hollow, and barely audible. "Go away!" It changes nothing, as the shadow still lingers around Ketevan dancing words for them to hear, and them alone.

"Kill all Kulaks!"

"go away!"

"KILL ALL KULAKS!"

"go away.." Each repetition of the words becomes weaker than the last.

"KILL ALL KULAK!"

"go away!"

KILL ALL KULAKS!"

The words begin to race around Ketevan, not just in their head, but around them. As someone had printed them off, and threw them into a tornado. Ketevan begins to weakly slash at them, trying to swat them away, but they still are unable to see. Going by feel alone, and still weakly demanding to be left alone. Swipe after swipe only serves to attack the air, while the voice keeps chanting to kill all Kulaks. And then darkness. Ketevan can't see a thing, not just blurry, blackness. The room goes weightless, and their arms stop moving, they try and move them, but can't move. Their legs, which have been knotted under Ketevan, have now gone flimsy, and dead. There's no feeling anywhere in Ketevan's body, not sight, no sounds, no smells, nothing to trigger the sense. Save one sound, barely a whisper, "Kill all Kulaks" They pass out.



There are no dreams, no thoughts, no happiness. They wake with a jolt, on the RV with Mark and Sasha standing by their side. Concern adorns both of their faces, and Ketevan struggles to find words. "Are you ok, Ketta?" Sasha is the first to speak, of course she is.

"Kill all Kulaks" Ketevan is surprised at the words coming out of their voice.

"Oh god, the voice is back, isn't it?" Sasha's concern turns to deep fear, as her and Ketevan's eyes both go wide, and Ketevan just nods.