Words from the Tormentor

Down the rabbit hole he goes to confront the Mad Hatter.


What can the March Hare do?


This Hatter knows.


-TW

The Divine Flames

What I am about to tell you may come off as the most far fetched fucking thing you've ever heard. You may look at this and think that I am completely insane. You may even come to the conclusion that this is all fabricated from my head. The time lapse makes no sense or how the fuck did that happen?


I can assure you if this tale was false then I wouldn't be popping pills to close my eyes for the past few days. Every time I close my eyes it's all I see. That horrid place with burning canyons, condemned corpses and lustful harpies. Was it hell? I don't know. I'd like to hope hell was a little brighter. A question for Unknown Soldier.


Look, I'm getting ahead of myself and confusing the hell out of you, so let's go back to the moment it happened.


Saturday Night had already been a complete mind fuck for me, so by the time I made it to my tag team match against Ann Thraxx and Unknown Soldier with Luca Arzegotti as my partner I was ready to relieve some stress into my opponents. The bell rang and shit went downhill for me. Unknown Soldier got me on the outside of the ring and as I tried to throw him through a table the counter with the breath of a dragon.


My eyes were doused in the flames of the Unknown Soldier and my flesh began to melt. I could hear the sizzle and crack of my cheeks as they were engulfed by the flames. In that moment everything else in the world disappeared. My body went into autopilot while my mind went else where.


It felt as if centuries past while the fire danced across my face. The cartilage in my nose became a putty that could have been morphed into anything I molded it into. My lips sizzled and eventually popped, falling from my face onto the ground. Each tooth became like a kernel, each popping into larger bits of itself at it sprung from my mouth. My ears melted like candle wax along with my flesh while my hair acted as the top of the candle. Throughout all of this, the physical pain did not exist. It was the mental anguish that would overtake me. Watching as my own face became nothing but ash from the flames. My eyes became like eggs cooking in a frying pan until they eventually oozed out of the sockets to join my flesh on the ground. The horror of my own demise filled my soul with dread worse than any other feeling I've ever experienced. Looking into the mirror of death.


This is when my mind kicked in.



There were no mirrors around me. I quickly felt my own face, lips, ears, nose and eyes. All were intact while the other me was melting into a pile of ash.


"W-w-w-w-t-t-t-s-s-"


I attempted to speak, but no words escaped from my breath only letters. The letters were very clear and articulated almost as if I was sounding out the letters the first time learning to read.


The flames finally consumed the other me until there was nothing left but ash. In a rush of anxiety, my body moved forward at a quickened pace to the ashes.


Running and running and running.


"A-a-a-a-k-k-k-k-n-n-n-m-"


I wanted to badly to yell, but coherent sentences seemed to be a thing of the past here. My mind was racing and so were my feet to get this fallen former self. It seemed so close to me as if I'd be there in seconds, but progress was never made.


My body began to give out on me.


This was some sort of trick I'd seen in movies where the object seems so close, but you never get to it. A sort of Grecian hell from the Old Gods. That's when I decided it was time to rest. My body have given all it could for this impossible venture. I stopped and bent over down holding my knees and heaving out the last bits of breath. A foul stench overcame my nostrils and vomit shot out from my mouth.


Red vomit. Blood vomit.


It burned as it came out of my throat and onto the ground. I could not stop myself. I held my hands over my mouth attempting to provide an obstacle for innards exploding out, but it was a futile effort.


There I was. Scott Charlotte, bent over in a dark world, two feet from his own ashes, projectile vomiting blood. My mind could not comprehend the hell I had entered.



"This...what...is....this....what....is....this...."


A voice rang out causing me to move my blood covered hands to my ears as it pierced my ear drums. Blood trickled out of my ears onto my hands as the screeching voice continued on.


"What...how...peculiar....what...how...peculiar....human..."


Each word pierced like a bullet through my skull, but at the same time was the medicine to my innards. The vomit had finally stopped as I stood in a pile of my own stomach. The voice became louder and louder.


"HUMAN....WHAT.....HE....DOING.....HUMAN.....WHAT....HE.....DOING....."


Blood poured from my nose and eye sockets as the screeching voice penetrated through my soul. Covered in my own blood and standing in my own blood. Was this a dream?


"S-s-u-u-u-Y-Y-Y-Y-Y-WHY! WHY! WHY!!"


I screamed out the first words i'd been able to speak in this horrendous hell, but they would prove to be the final for a while as the black claws of an unknown creature jutted out of my own blood cesspool clutching my legs. Blood shot from my legs as the creature pulled me down into my own stomach acids.


"COME.....TO.....ME......HUMAN......COME....TO......ME.....SCOTT"



My name. It knew me. My body went limp and I submitted to the bloody assailant. The last thing I saw in the dark abyss before my head submerged was the face I'd known for so long. That one demon.









The Wraith.






He spoke.








"This is just the prologue, my boy."

Words from a Tormented Soul

So by now you've heard the beginning of something that I cannot comprehend.


Right now, i'd like to put that behind me and focus on the future which is Wednesday Night Warfare and the Wild Card match. Jason E. Smith. Mark Flynn. Mr. Satellite. The three men who will step into that ring for a chance at the big crown. One of us will walk out with that key to the chamber and I plan on that being me. I've been here far too damn long to have this opportunity slip right out of my minds. The blood and sweat fallen from my brow has not been in vein.


Oh, shit, I almost forgot. Luca wants to focus so much on that little match we have scheduled for Saturday already.


FUCK YOU.


Luca, right now I have bigger and better things to focus on than you and Crimson Cobra. Don't worry your pretty little cock, my boy, I will get to you soon enough. So for the moment, get strapped back into your high chair and wait for momma return home from the grocery store with your num num. Okay?


Anyways, this has to be one of the most exciting matches of my career. Stepping into a fatal four way against three other talented individuals. At least that is what I have been told about Jason and Mark. I have to admit, guys, that my Intel on you two is very bleak. I hear that you are both something to throw caution too which is something I will take into consideration, but for the moment you are the lowest on my list.


I guess all other opponents would have to pale in comparison to the great Mr. Satellite. Everyone is just in love with you, aren't they Satty? You're their best friend, but you could give less of a damn about them. What makes them love you so much?


I get it, you think I am jealous. Let me tell you something, Satty, I really don't give a fuck about your fans. It's the ones that pay to see yours truly not the ones that pay to see some intergalactic asshole with his handy dandy robotic speak and spell. I just want to know why we have to bow down to you so much. You're not the king and he doesn't deserve to be worshiped as much as you are.


Btw, Fuck the king.


Back to you, Satty. I admit you have some damn talent, but it's when you open that fucking mouth...oh sorry....it's when that robot blurts out your inner most thoughts that I get peeved. The arrogance fuming off of you is worse than the stink from Crimson Dong's asshole. The obsession with Mr. Satellite stems even into the XWF locker room.


Alex Shawn wants your dick. Mr. Radio created himself with the full intentions on getting to be your fake brother. Kinwrathi is all about the Satellite experience. Hell, even I've been going on for weeks about you.


When will it end? Why is it that everyone is so obsessed with you?


So many questions, but I can't provide the answers. The fires are still burning, Satellite.




Can you snuff them out?



I'm sorry, my mind is not well right now. I'm tired.....


I just can't.....





......My boy......


....What's a spaceman.....


.....To a God........