Darkness. Pure darkness.

I've had enough of this! People treating me like shit.... I get it. I talk shit, I get it back. And it's everyone in XWF's job to do it. But I've been just laying down and letting people treat me like shit! Fuck everyone in the XWF, I don't care about a single one of you! Especially that Diaz bitch and her many cute little personas that don't fool anyone! Does she expect anyone to believe her shit? She's faking!... I don't even believe in that split personality crap. It's attention seeking. She straight up said I contradict myself constantly. Well sorry, Jess, I gotta tell you something. You've made this more personal than you expected. And I'll make every effort to make every inch of your empty skull itch in fear.

Mmmph!

I am TIRED of being told I contradict myself. Every match where I'm not facing a useless jobber, somebody's gotta brong that up. I've addressed this already. I do contradict myself because I simply have morals fighting emotion. My morals are askew, don't expect to get through to the good Ann deep inside. I burried that bitch a long time ago after she was killed by people like you. I buried her in a place deep inside me that nobody could ever get out of.

MMM!!! MMMMPH!!!!

SHUT THE FUCK UP!........ Look, I don't plan to win our match, Jess. Jessie, Jessica, Jose. Whoever you are. I would like a win for the books, but it certainly isn't anywhere above.... Say.... 10% of my goal for the match. What I really want, is for you to lay on the mat... Or ground, whatever... I want your blood to run from your head like a tap. Your body, trembling. Your mind, numbed by the loss of hope. Unable to move, you realise that you're inferior. Because I'm bringing out the scary side of me that little is seen of. Maybe you should feel honored, but afraid, also. My mind's crazier than any attempt to---

MMMMMMMMMMMMPH!!!!

The camera shows Thraxx glaring down at a man tied to a chair, with his mouth taped shut.

Y'know, for a guy who told me not to kill his daughter, you sure make very little effort to convince me not to. Granted, your mouth's taped and you can't talk, but interrupting my message to a....... DEAR...... Friend, isn't helping your chances..... You're spoiling the surprise! In fact, you're just tempting me more!...... I just can't wait! It really feels like Christmas!... But, I'm not cooped up in a cold corner of a colder room with a bottle of Smirnoff trying to figure out who to beat the shit out of on New Years.

Killing has become a game to me. Maybe not killing. Death has. Death is a game of pure fear. Mercy. Something unobtainable from some, and too obtainable from others. The latter being the weakened members of society who think "having a big heart" will save them. They can't even save themselves from tripping on a doormat. Their own life isn't in their hands. But sometimes, you get someone else's lif in your hands. Along with the minds of those close to them. It seems that the only way to get a message of how serious you are anymore is to kill. And death in itself is a game and a joke. So... Let's play.
With that, Thraxx grabs the man in a headlock and physically drags him along with his chair out the door of a small caravan that the situation is situated. Thraxx places the man facing away from a set of train tracks. The sound of a train is heard in the distance.

Daddy! Daddy!

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMPPPHHH!!!!!!

Don't worry. The train driver will see you. But, not until he can't stop himself from turning you into a splattery mess, and going past without stopping to assess what happened. [red]

Ann swings her foot up and hits the man in the face. His head flies back, and the chair tips backwards, then slams down on its back, with the man on top, across the train tracks just as the train comes through.

AAAHHHH!!! NOOOOO!!! DADDY NOOOO!!!! PLEASE, NOOOOOOOO!!!!!! STOOOOP!!!!

[red]Stop what? It already happened.

How come all the weird kinky stuff in the world reminds you people of me!?