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Chris Chaos · (06-22-2018)

The candle lit room was vast, massive. Shadows were everywhere, including on the face of Chris. The walls appeared to be stained with a dark substance, but it couldn't be made out in the flickering illumination. It was a good amount darker than the walls were, however.

There was a scroll, middle ages looking, that could be seen in the flicker as well. A crackling sound, like fresh wood in a fireplace, echoed from the furthest reaches of the room. The sound of trees scraping the window outside, swayed by the nonvisable but insanely audible breeze, were like nails scraping a chalkboard. It was enough to make the viewer wince. There was a small pot that had a feather sticking out of it.

Chris didn't say anything, he just sat there, his eyes staring dead ahead, unblinking, unwavering, unfeeling. Eyes that could pierce stone.

Medusa.

There was the sound of groaning, a light squeal, like a puppy being kicked. A hiss.

A snake?

There was thunder outside. It pounded, sounding louder than it should, as if it was just on top of the building. As if it was in the room.

There was something in the room. Chris wasn't alone.

A lightening flash lit up the room, making the candles temporarily obsolete. When the lightening stopped, it sounded as though there were rain drops pelting the top of the building. Why couldn't those be heard before?

On the table was a shiny object that sat next to the parchment scroll. Chris slowly picked it, never taking his eyes off the camera. He brought the shiny object to his wrist. Bringing it down onto his wrist, he removed the feather and held his forearm over the small container it sat in. He pushed the shiny object into his skin. A dark liquid, like the one on the walls, leaked out. This one was a good amount brighter than the wall one was however. He winced a bit. When the jar seemed nearly full, he put the object down and picked up the feather. He dipped it into the container that was now almost full.

He wrote, slowly, on the parchment in front of him. On the parchment, when he was done, it read only three words.....

SAVAGE

IS

CHAOS

Just like that, he snapped his fingers and the lights came on all at once. On the floor all around him were tied up, dead or dying, mechanics. If they weren't mechanics, they were sure dressed like them. Each of them had their mouths taped, and were bleeding from head trauma. Some had their throats slit.

Each and every one of the "mechanics" had a sewn on name badge.......

GRIFF

It was clear that Chaos had chosen his next victim.

"Sometimes I wonder why people say the things they say. I wonder what makes people think they stand a snowballs chance in hell in the ring with me. I wonder what makes people have beer balls without taking a sip of anything other than pure haterade. Griffin is the same. He comes back and the entire landscape is different. The XWF is a totally different place than it was when he left. It is better now. The old XWF where he was successful--though mildly--is dead and buried next to Jimmy Hoffa. This an an XWF where only the strong survive and he just doesn't have the swol. Griffin seems to think this is going to be easy for him. Its not going to be easy for either of us. I am well aware that this is going to be a battle. Those are the type of matches I love. Just because Griffin has a knack for violence, likes overpriced boots with steel in the toes and can throw a right hook or two, doesn't mean he is a professional wrestler. He is a scappy mechanic, that is it. He is the type of guy to get into a bar fight, whoop some ass, and be looked at as the man by his local community. That isn't how it works in the wrestling world. You need to have the ability to last longer than a few punches. There is no bouncer to break this up, and it requires technical skill. The only technical skill he possesses is the ability to screw bolts into tires and put wires in the right place. He isn't a wrestler, he is a bar fighter who moonlights as a wrestler. He is someone who dreams of the glory that comes with hoisting a strap while the crowd reacts, the announcers flipping out. He doesn't have the fortitude.

How do I know this? Well it is simple. I have been in this game a while, I have seen a whole lot of these dudes. I have seen nobodies bring their A game, pull out every stop they have against me. I have no doubt he is going to reach deep down, but in the end it simply won't be enough. I will go into Warfare as double champion and I WILL defeat Cadryn and Graves, single handily if I need to. I used to let matches like this get in my head. I used to look at these opponents and be nervous. What if I lost? What if I didn't get the job done. Now, I know that I will, every single time. In my mind, I can't be stopped. Call it sleeping on an opponent if you wish, but I have never been more confident in my life. I'm not cocky, I'm confident, there is a difference. I have finally found my niche here. Sometimes, the pressure of being the Universal Champion gets to you. It got to me. Now, I am a double champion with a target on my back the size of the Continent of Asia and I have never been more calm.

Calculated.

Collected.

You see, Grif, I have fixed my life. I have fixed my career. I have fixed my relationship, for the most part, and I have fixed my mindstate. What a cruel, cruel juxtaposition it is. We have traded places. Eat your heart out Eddie Murphy and Dan Aykroyd. You haven't fixed anything. You aren't capable of fixing anything. You can barely even put the round peg in the round hole, but boy you'll tell us all how you can! You see all that gum flapping, around here, it gets you hurt. Gum flapping without sufficient ass kicking back up gets careers cut short. You give a whole new meaning to shit talking, because that is exactly what it is. Shit. Pure, unadulterated, steaming shit. Shit that is sizzling in the heat of the summer sun. Toxic shit.

Guys like you are a cancer to this company, a tumor on the roster, and if guys like you are allowed to run rampant you will one day kill it. Companies like this one need the strongest at the top. Its like an ecosystem. The apex needs to be at the top and that apex is me. The old Chris Chaos that nobody feared, who couldn't win a big time match if you paid him, is gone. This is the new look Chaos.

If I can be honest for a moment, I want to say I am thankful. I am thankful that I had my fall. I am thankful that I fell from grace because I know now how it feels to fail. I know how it feels to lose and the only feeling I ever want to feel again is to win. I know how it feels to be on top of the world and fall to the ground the like archangel, to be cast out of the heavenly world of being a champion and meander around the realm of pedestrian. I never want to be there again.

I refuse to be.

I haven't been myself for some time now. I finally feel like the old me. I finally feel like I am what I set out to be when I first got here. I finally feel like I matter to someone in this company. You see, Griffo, this company was my second chance at life. When I had my fall down, I felt like I let the company down. I felt like I let Vinnie down. I felt like I let down all the fans. I felt like complete garbage but I couldn't understand it. I didn't know why I didn't have it anymore. I didn't get why I couldn't do this anymore.

Everything in my life I've succeeded in. Do you know how hard it is to be at the very top and to fall so rapidly and have nothing so suddenly? No. Because you have never had anything worth losing. I let my guard down against a two cent

with bangs just like yours. A young upstart who I didn't value as real competition. What happened? I put him on the shelf for good. I have righted all the wrongs in my life, and I have done it on my terms. I will never sleep on an opponent again. I am not sleeping on you either, I am going to give you everything I have and more. I am going to give you the best version of Chaos I have. I feel I owe it to Vinnie, to these fans, to myself.

I used to be just like you, I used to feel like nobody else mattered. I used to not care what people thought, said, or did. I used to be all about me. I have grown, matured, and become whole. I am a new person, and I love it. I feel like my life, my career, everything has purpose again. I have put my heart and mind into defending this title and being the best Television Champion in the history of this company. Sure, I have done some bad things, just ask the Caedus family, but they were necessary evils. I run the new version of AX3, a better version, and we are called Empire. I am their king. I am the ruler. I have to defend my territory. You are just another casualty in this game called war. I have waged war, and now I need to see it through to the finish.

Do you blame me?

Of course you do, because jealousy and envy courses through your veins, not blood. All the hate and rage is just a masking agent for the envy you feel. I have fixed all my problems, and now I have a full life and career ahead of me. You have nothing but a thwarted comeback and some cut off jackets. You're nothing and you will always be nothing. You will never be me, as hard as you try. Even if you held this belt you would disgrace it, like you disgrace everything else. Nothing matters to you, and that is why you fail at everything you do. That is why you will fail tomorrow night. That is why you will fail the rest of your time here. You will sit at 0-3 wondering what went wrong while I continue my title reign and continue to be the reason this company still has a pulse at all.

And my tee shirt sales, they are going well, thank you for asking. You're damn right I looked at the numbers, why wouldn't I? I care about my product, and I put my passion in everything I do. This whole "I don't care about anything or anyone" nonsense, you sound like an emo 7th grader whose parents forced him to play outside and get off the X-Box. Hell, you already have the hair for it. Slide those bangs out of your face for two seconds and listen. Stop cutting your wrists long enough to pay attention.

Y-O-U S-U-C-K. The quicker you learn that, the better off we will all be. Get it through your head, you aren't good and never were. Never more than a bench player telling everyone he's in the starting lineup. A figment of days past that nobody even remembers. A shadow of the past when times were good and people were fat and happy. Now the world is starving and the governments oppressive. This is a whole new world. A world you don't belong in. MY world.

I am going to make you wish you were still fixing cars. I am going to make you wish you never came back. I am going to walk out of Universal Studios the same way I walked in and Griffin......

As much as you don't wanna hear this..........

.......There isn't a damn thing you can do about it.

Chaos is coming.

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