Darkness rests over the spires of The Temple. It's almost serene, the landscape. A small flock of birds huddle together over the entrance, tweeting their evening songs before flying off over the horizon, chasing the setting sun. The clouds begin to disappear in the coming night, allowing the dark spectre of the dusk to grasp the Temple in its gentle palms, lulling nature into sleep. But nothing is quite as calm inside the doors of The Temple.

Beneath the dying light flowing forth from the massive stained glass windows, Mystica sits cross-legged. His normally calm demeanor has been clearly disrupted. His meditation has come to an end now that the sun has finally disappeared. Like a vampire, the Prophet of the Myst comes alive in the dark, his almost glowing blue eyes leering through the darkness cast over the pews. Around him, Hyphema, eyes uncovered by her usual bandages, begins to light a series of candles surrounding the room, casting a new light on Mystica. As the light reaches him, it becomes clear that his normally clean and trim attire has been mangled and torn by an unknown source. The scars lining Mystica's arms and chest peek through the tears in the fabric, peering out into the light of the world. Mystica's eyes close gently, and he begins to speak in a calm, deep tone.

"I have no need for a new assistant any longer."

"Sorry?" asks Hyphema, lighting the last of the candles and swatting out the match she had been holding. As the candle's wick is enveloped in flame, her eyes finally come into view. They are black; the corneas having been covered by a pool of blood internally. It is a haunting sort of gaze she sends to the priest, who looks back in earnest.

"It's no longer necessary. I have something lined up."

Hyphema cocks her head to the side, intrigued. Quietly, she carefully steps between the pews toward Mystica, allowing her other senses to make up for her lack of sight.

"What?"

"No questions from here on out. I shall let my actions speak on my behalf. There's something coming, luv. Something dark. Something unspeakable. A horror of many names, none of them known to man. There are some things man was never meant to know. But there they are, up in my head. Chained, locked away. And they demand freedom like a dying serf, rattling the chains, grasping the bars. Wednesdays have become a momentary reprieve for these secrets. When the sun goes down and the brutes line up to shed blood, I stand among them, and the voices up in my skull rattle and roll. I unlock the cages, and the monsters spill out. Oh, what a feeling. To be taken by eldritch truths."

Hyphema mutters something to herself and feels around the pews before finally taking a seat close to the spot where Mystica has placed himself on the tile floor.

"You said you had something lined up, Father. What did you mean?"

"Don't worry your not-so-pretty little head, luv. There's always friends in low places. More monsters in the making, hiding in the shades of man's deepest instincts. But that's not the point. The point is that these monsters in my brain want out. It's time for their weekly feeding. I imagine Shawn Hero tastes like fresh pork. Yeh, some sort of pig lined with brass. Those brass knuckles he's so proud of. They'll look nice stuffed in his mouth like a delicatessen swine. See, he'd best bring his oh-so-favourite weapon. Men need weapons when they fight creatures beyond their imagination. Things with claws and teeth that bite and slash. I wonder if Sean Falcon has faced a Jabberwock? A falcon has claws, yes...but they're not as sharp as he needs them to be. Falcons are little more than birds of prey. I wonder what happens when birds of prey become the prey of things even Lovecraft had nightmares about..."

"And Heironeous?"

"What of him? If he assists the creatures, he'll be spared...for the moment. Let him play his role. He's been in the spotlight. Now he'll be our momentary assistant."

"Is that what you meant by something lined up? And not needing a new assistant?"

"Not at all, my dear. Not in the slightest. There are some angels of our better nature up in those cages, too. But even beings of light preach awful things sometimes. And where are they written?"

"In the book?"

Mystica shakes his head no with a nefarious smile. He points to his own temple.

"They're written right in here."

Achievements

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