Sometimes, I forget myself. Who I truly am. What I represent. How strange I must seem to others. The fact that my very existence might challenge their belief systems. Fundamental understandings about life, the universe and everything, one was taught from the time they were very small. The basic structural integrity of reality and core principals, that bind it all together. I forget that the mere idea of a being like me, simply standing in front of someone, can be too much for them to accept or comprehend. That a mind might do whatever it can to protect itself in these instances. Even if that means lying or fabricating false imagery to itself.


There isn't a seven foot tall man, from another planet, in the room, he's just an incredibly tall lunatic with poor skin pigmentation. He can't snap his fingers and make things happen, he's delusional. There's no way his body can heal itself and regenerate, that simply isn't possible. And all that talk about not even death stopping him, that he can die and return to life... well, that just fucking proves he's mad. Man from the stars! Psssh. More like man from the psych ward!


I forget this is the built in defense mechanism, that most humans possess. They need it. Mostly because if they didn't have it, they'd have to accept how small they truly are in the grand scheme of things. That there are billions upon billions of stars in the universe and each one of them, could be used as an example of a life form in the universe. That the universe is vast and infinite and that compared to it, one planet or even one solar system is utterly, minuscule by comparison. If an entire solar system is barely the size of a pin's head, compared to the rest of the universe, then what does that make one human or even a billion humans? It forces them to face ideas and truths, that are far too frightening, for a great many to allow themselves the ability to accept.


So their minds build walls to protect them, sort of like blinders on a race horse, but for the mind. This keeps them focused and diffuses the probability of them mentally straying from their mind's race track and wandering off, to the hypothetical parking lot, rather than finishing the race. The race to what? I don't know. Death? Acceptance? What they tell themselves is happiness? You only live once, right? Well, unless you're, me. I suppose that's what truly separates me from the earthlings... and really, most beings. That while death is a permanent place for most, it's a momentary pause for me.


Perhaps, that fact has spoiled me because it means, I can accomplish almost anything. I don't need to be picky, worry about thwarting a chance or choosing the wrong option, because I can do it all. The fear, the what-ifs, they don't affect me the same. Though, make no mistake, they do affect me. For different reasons but they are there. I get to watch as the people I care for - friends, lovers, team mates... heck, even acquaintances or enemies, I get to watch them burn until they smolder themselves out. People die, buildings crumble, ecosystems change, suns flare and eventually extinguish themselves, planets grow cold and desolate, the universe swells, stretches and expands and through it all, there is one constant that never changes - me. Oh sure, I ascend, adapt and grow stronger but the one variable, that never differs is the fact that it's still me.


For now.


I tell myself that because in my own way, that's how I protect my own mind. Strange how "for now" is far more comforting than "forever" but it is, for I couldn't bear the idea of an infinity of... everything. Cause when you break it all down, it ends up in a cycle of a never ending, impending loss. Maybe in that concept, I am no different from humans. While at the same time, I am nothing like them. Talk about a contradiction. You wouldn't understand a complete and total mind fuck, until you walked a mile in my shoes. I surmise this is why I tend to lose myself. Why I forget the dynamics of things. What makes me impulsive and unpredictable. I blame taking Earth on as my base of operations, so to speak. Though, who am I fooling, I took Earth on as my home. I wonder how different things would have been, had I not taken that course?





June 27, 2018
Wednesday Night Warfare
Richmond, Virginia
The Richmond Coliseum
Backstage Area
Near a vending machine, that appears to be sold out of Cool Ranch Doritos


Azrael Erebus, walks casually down the hall. Up ahead, he witnesses Robert Main, struggling along with a steel chair in hand. Tilting his head to the side, the spaceman wonders if maybe, this fight wasn't the best idea. Poor Robert, is practically dismantled already and the fight, has yet to begin. This was no way to face the Hart Champion properly. It was at this moment, Azrael devised a plan that would both satisfy his own desire for a challenge and aid the broken down Hart Champion, in the process. After all, just because something is broken, doesn't mean it can't be restored. He simply needed a tad more time to rest and recover from his previous injuries. Why Robert would crawl out here and attempt a title defense against the spaceman, in this terrible condition was well beyond the fearless universe traveler's understanding but he chalked it up to pride. Stubbornness and pride. Two traits he knew all too well. Still, if Pestalance could do this to him, what chance would he have against Azrael? Especially, when his tank was running on mere fumes and Azrael, was fully charged and ready to fucking go? No, this wasn't the battle that Azrael wanted.


So with a sigh, Azrael held out his hand and used a sharp wave of an invisible force, to send Robert Main, smashing into the vending machine. Robert's head collided with the glass, shattering it in the process. Shards of glass rain down and crash to the floor, cascading onto and around Robert, as he drops down to his hands and knees. Blood flows freely, like a fountain from his cranium, streaking a thick trail of crimson, down his face and hair. Azrael observes as the man's shaky hands scramble for the steel chair. Desperate hands, in a frantic search for a way to defend himself. A means to put down his attacker. Little did he know, Azrael was doing this to help him more than harm him. Ironic, since Azrael had to hurt him, in order to help him but sometimes, that's just the way it had to be done.


Azrael slowly walked forward. He seen Robert grasp onto the chair. Then rear back as he blindly struck outward. Okay. This chair shot, would have never landed its intended target if Azrael, didn't do what he did in the next instant. Azrael in his true form is seven feet tall and Robert, was swinging from a kneeling position. It would have never struck Azrael in the face, causing the damage that it did but since the spaceman wanted to make this all look legit and didn't really see the point in breaking Robert Main's pride, by merely leaving it at the fact that he was attacked. Azrael swiftly switched to his human form and took a chair shot to the face. Like a champ! Ha! The Champion hit Azrael, in the face with a chair and he took it, like a champ. Hmmm... could this be a foretelling of future events?


The chair impacted with Azrael's face and sent him flying back into the wall. Where he smacked into it and then slid to the floor. He could feel the blood rushing from his nose and a small laceration above his eyebrow. In this exact moment, Steve Sayors was skipping down the hall. Yes. Skipping. Like a happy little schoolgirl. This is not an exaggeration. When Steve seen the two men in their dreadful conditions, he shrieked. Full on shrieked, with his hands held up in the air, Ned Flanders purple drapes, style.





Quickly looking about after that outburst, Steve swiftly radioed a camera ninja and the rest was history. That's right folks. Mr. Steve Sayors called on a camera ninja, to report on what just happened BEFORE he contacted medical personnel. Isn't that fucked up? It took five whole minutes before the gremlin with the camera scurried over there. This is probably why Robert was so fucked up from his ordeal with Pestalance. Everyone has to wait for a damn camera to appear before they can do anything.





Several moments later
Approximately ten to twenty minutes (if you need the exact time frame)
In the back of an ambulance


"Sir, we need to take you to the hospital. That chair shot could have caused more damage than you realize."


Azrael smirked at the paramedic. Silly humans.


"I don't need a hospital. Trust me. I'm fine. In fact, I'm better than fine, I'm fantastic."


"How could you possibly know that?"


"Are you serious right now? You do know who I am, right?"


"Yeah. You're Azrael Erebus. The man who came from the stars. Mr. Amazing. The savior of the universe."


"Right. Good. Then you do realize, I operate on an entirely different level than the average wrestler, correct?"


"I guess."


"Let me put it to you this way. The bleeding stopped, right?"


"Yeah."


"And you were looking directly at me when I waved my hand in front of my face and all the caked up, dried blood disappeared?"


"Uh-huh."


"Yet, you still want to force me to go to the hospital, on the grounds that I might be injured and don't know it?"


"It's protocol."


Azrael momentarily closed his eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling loudly in an exasperated fashion. Fucking humans. From there, he quickly lifted his head and refocused his attention, towards the paramedic.


"Do you have a pen?"


"Yes."


"May I see it?"


The paramedic reaches into his shirt pocket, retrieves a pen and hands it over to Azrael.


"Alright, I'm going to use this pen and my own hand to demonstrate why, I don't need to go to the hospital. Please, observe closely."


Azrael raised his left hand up, tilting it to the side so that his thumb was pointed upwards and then with his right hand, he jammed the pen straight through his left hand. The paramedic gasped as Azrael yanked the pen out and held his hand higher. An immense flow of blood poured from the wound but Azrael, generally seemed unfazed. He then, turned his hand so that the paramedic could see, a clear, straight on through, pen sized hole in the spaceman's hand.


"Oh my god! Are you fucking crazy???"


"Completely. No joke. I'm really, quite mad at times. Although, one of those times, isn't currently taking place. Not that I'm aware of anyway. Which doesn't really say much because it's not like I'd recognize it if it were happening. Lunatics don't notice when they go into their episodes of insanity. There's no pin pointing the exact shift into the crazies. You can't reach out and poke the moments of delirium, like tiny, little bubbles of madness. It just happens. Still, with that in mind, I'm fairly confident that, that's not what's occurring, right now. Why? Because there was a solid point behind this. That point was this... hey, look the hole in my hand, it sealed itself shut."


Azrael wasn't lying. As he was rambling the hole in his hand, healed itself. It was like the pen was never stabbed through his hand in the first place, save for the blood decorating it. The floor. Azrael's coat. Oh and the paramedic's shoes. With a glance downward, all that blood disappeared, like it had never been there and the pen, disintegrated. It had to be done. He couldn't let the paramedic, walk away with samples of his dna after he witnessed that display. Who knows what kind of ideas that man might get.


"Hey! My pen!"


"What pen? That pen!"


Azrael mockingly scoffed and pointed towards the paramedic's shirt pocket. Inside there sat a brand new pen. Untarnished by alien blood, full of fresh ink and better than the one that existed there before.


"So... can I go now?"


This was all a little too much for Gary, the paramedic to take. Hey! All this time later and he has a name! Gary! Too bad he won't be around for much longer :(


"...."


Gary blinked, unsure of what to say.


"Silence means acceptance! Spaceman out!"


And with that, Azrael snapped his fingers and vanished from sight.





"Robert Main!"


"Glad to see that you're up and about, ready to take on the world! Sorry, for the whole attacking you in the hall but I swear, I only had your best intentions in mind. Granted smashing your skull into a vending machine, probably added more damage to the preexisting list, but at least you got more recuperation time out of it. So that's a plus. Cause now, when we face each other, we'll both be at a hundred percent. In my opinion, that's a win for the both of us. I get an actual challenge and you don't fall flat on your face, after I hit you once. See? In a way, I think you kind of owe me, for that incredible amount of generosity that I bestowed upon you. I mean, I let you hit me with a chair and believe me when I say this, that was quite the feat to pull off. "


"Yes sir, indeed it was. I had to switch to my human facade and walk at precisely, the right angle. Time it just right too. You would have been WAY off your target otherwise. No questions asked. That chair would have pretty much done nothing. It might have even injured you worse than me, considering the fact that the momentum of the swing, probably would've brought you to the floor with the chair. With your terrible luck, your head would've hit the chair, when you fell onto it. Causing another wound, that instantly started gushing blood. It could have been a real nightmare. I'm not talking smack either. You seriously were a hot mess walking to that ring. And after your head went through the vending machine, well then all bets were off. You were fucking done. However, from that suffering and agony, a second chance emerged, like the phoenix rising out of the ashes. Now, you're recharged and ready, I'm super stoked, everything worked out perfectly. So you're welcome for that."


"Oh and as far as what you owe me, for my very kind service to you, don't worry it won't be money or objects, that I desire. I can snap my fingers and make a billion dollars appear... or the hope diamond... or two hope diamonds, which is realistically improbable but I can make it happen. Imagine the bad luck then or maybe, that's the key to removing the curse, make two appear and then, they cancel each other out. Huh? Perhaps I should suggest that the next time I drop by Buckingham Palace. Anyway, the point is this, I can pretty much make whatever I want appear, so objects and cash, are basically irrelevant. Don't worry. That doesn't mean that I want physical stuff from you either. I'm not a scumbag. You're a mighty fine, male specimen but I just don't operate that way. No, all I require is a favor. I collect them, you see and now, you owe me one."


"I'm certain you'll deny this as being an actual true fact, but riddle me this mountain man, would you have preferred to have fought last week, when you were so broken and battered down, you could barely hobble to the ring? Do you think that would have been better? Please. Don't lie to me or yourself, by even thinking that it would have been better, when you and I both know, that it wouldn't. Come on Robert, you know that would have been, a horrendous display. A toddler could have climbed in the ring and tottered out The Hart Champion. A small, fluffy bunny could have hopped into the ring and became the Hart Champion. If someone threw a water bottle, hard enough and it knocked you down and landed on you, we would now be basking in the new Hart Champion - Aquafina. See where I'm going with this? I really hope that you do cause I've explained this just about as far as I can, without breaking out sock puppets."


"Bottom line, you owe me a favor and don't worry, it won't be something lame like... give me the title, cause that would be ridiculous. No, it'll be something far more, interesting. On a much later date than July 4th. That's about all I can say."


"Moving on..."


"To the subject of you yearning to be the very last sight, my eyes catch a glimpse of before I cross over, into the great beyond. Sure, that's possible but it's not really as satisfying as say... if you killed, The Engineer. Sorry Engy, nothing personal, I merely needed a human example and I literally, pulled your name off the top of my head. Off subject, we should really get together sometime. Anyway, back to the matter at hand, Robert say you killed the Engineer. Engy is laying there after taking... oh, I don't know... a bazooka shot to the chest. Somehow, most of Engy's body remained intact after that happened because you bought the bazooka, from some guy selling it out of the back of his van. The quality of the bazooka isn't that great. Apparently the guy in the van made it from used parts. So the blast was enough to put Engy down, it just didn't explode him into a million pieces. Basically, he only has a giant hole in the middle of his torso but he's still conscious and has the ability to look up at you, while you look down at him. He chokes out a last gasp of air and then... BAM! He's dead. That's it. He's fucking done. The entire XWF cries, there's a funeral, you're hated by millions, the end."


"Okay, lets play out that exact same scenario but with me being the target instead. Lets also assume, I don't notice it happening cause that will eliminate the option of teleportation, on my end. I get hit, I go down, I'm dying, you're looming over me like the Terminator, I witness that and then... BOOM! I'm dead. I'm fucking done. My body gets collected up by an ambulance and I'm taken away. Except, within about 24 to 32 hours, give or take, I'm alive again. My body regenerated the missing parts and it's like nothing happened. Ta Da! The spaceman lives! You see, that's not very satisfying, right? "


"You tell me, how would you feel if you killed me and then walked into work a couple of days later and seen me standing there, perfectly a hundred percent fine, talking to the Engineer, while we're both eating scones and drinking tea? Please. Elaborate. How would that make you feel? After you got such satisfaction from seeing me die, what would it do to you to know, it didn't really matter in the end cause I can simply return to life? Once again Engy, I used you as an example cause... well, now it's just amusing to me, to be totally honest. Though, I do think that we should go out for some scones and tea, at some point."


"Last thought. I really loved it when you called me, kid. Ahahaha! Oh wow! Robert, you're a funny guy! Seriously. You're a riot. You think that I'm younger than you? Really? Awww... that's so adorable. No, Robert. I'm way older, than I look. Older than you. Older than your father. Heck, I'm older, than his father. In fact, you could go back several generations, in the Main family tree and I'd be older than all of them, combined. I won't tell you my age but if you're half as smart as you are hate filled, I'm sure you'll find a way to figure it out."

2x Universal Champion (First reign was less than a day though, lol. Due to Sebastian Duke cashing in his briefcase.)
2x Tag Team Champion
3x Triple Tag Team Champion
1x Television Champion
2x US Champion (Title retired during my second reign as champ.)
2x X-Treme Champion
1x Bombshell Champion
2x HMW Champion
2x SOTM