Light in the alley became insufficient underneath the crystal-clear moonlight, the sounds became unclear as if Robert was underwater. Aside from the beat of Robert’s heart, no muscle would budge. That hammering inside beat to a rhythm of words, her punishment was the cold steel, judge and jury and executioner. The knife was a silent eradication specialist with a twelve-inch razor-sharp blade with a cross piece and a ribbed center on both sides. Designed to fit impeccably into the palm of your hand, Robert thought guns were too noisy, they could jam, but a commando knife is a genuine friend doing the job instantaneously never letting you down and to this day still an unparalleled assassination weapon.



Her now vermillion-blond hair was discolored with a thick red tint when Robert found her just a few feet from the sewer. Her lungs were jam-packed with muck because her executioner hadn't bothered to see whether she was dead after stabbing her repeatedly, as he approached, he could hear her last gasping breaths. Her face battered, covered with pomegranate blotches, three of her ribs broken. Her thighs and abdomen bruised and lacerated. It was too late to save her. Robert keeled down at her side as the sickening smell of blood blanketing the air with a constricting aroma.



” I knew coming in I would never fit their model; I’d never be their poster boy and I was fine with that.” Robert leered at her fragmented body lying on alley pavement like a ghoulish mannequin, her esophagus and arteries sticking out like rubber tubing. ” Their system has been splintered for nearly a decade and over time I’ll erode it away permanently. I was never meant to be a brick in the XWF’s wall, I wasn’t born to abide by their orders, being average is a masquerade.” Her blood was thickening but not yet dried on her waxy skin. ” I’ve become the leader of the people that most would label as corrupt. Long ago I sold my soul-stealing gold from royalty filling coffins with everything that I ever dreamed of. Looking back, I made a mistake.” Robert’s mind rewound the knife piercing the colorful tattoo of her baby's name, slicing her chest that had witnessed a thousand hugs and wrapped its protection around her son. ” Ever since obtaining the brass ring I've been haunted by decaying bodies, the paths I’ve selected were always filled with pessimists. So, I burned every single bridge to the ground.”



Robert gently stuck his finger in her blood that was now pooling around her body rubbing it between his index finger and thumb. ” I can feel its claws stuck inside of me; I can hear its voice calling out, promising me what I once carried over my shoulder.” Crimson stained Robert’s fingers as the color became etched in his mind, as sickness materialized just beneath the surface. ” All that glitters isn’t gold or, so I’ve been told.” Robert couldn’t see the man’s face that caused all this carnage, the murder was wearing a mask. How fitting Robert thought to himself, yet the man spoke without nerves, forceful unforgiving, right up to the bitter end. ” I go to bed at night, I'm dreaming of retribution and I’ll have it starting on Warfare.” The darkness pressed in on Robert as he heard a footstep that echoed sharply just behind him. For a moment he grappled with the urge to turn around before smiling. ” Aren’t you a beauty?”









::::To Be Continued::::













Words Of Wisdom From
“The Omega”



” All eyes now shift to this Captain’s match; this match is nothing more than a mere speedbump in the road back to the top. Walking into this thing, I’m the only man that has an impeccable record, untarnished in this type of contest even edging out my tag team partner last year. I’ll admit, I’m only as good as my team around me. But my how the times have changed. Last Wargames I catered to the sheep, glad-handed the fans and stood up for this company against Chris Page and his band of infidels. But when that final bell rang, I was the last man standing, leaving them all face down in a pool of their brain matter. Here we are one year later, and my adversary has become my blood brother, now Tag Team Champions opening my eyes to just how fucked this company truly is. Let me start by expressing my opinion of our reigning Universal Champion, Fuzz… Or Shawn… Or whatever the hell he wants to call himself in this Engy like career rebirth. All this bull shit? Just to make himself feel like he runs the show? How pathetic. You, Shawn, are precisely what’s wrong with the XWF.



For a year you sat on the sidelines with your thumb implanted firmly in your ass as I stood on top of this federation and not one fucking time did you step up. Why? It’s straightforward, I would have shown you the inside of a body bag, I would have sat you right back on your prissy little ass. You knew then as you know now that when compared to me, you’re nothing more than another piece of enhancement talent. Let’s take a gander at more recent history, shall we? March Madness you stepped to me and were obliterated within seconds of the opening bell, instead of manning up you were content with crying like Tonya Harding just got ahold of you. You were backpaddling because were terrified to have real opposition, you are not a man created to deal with that kind of energy. Going into Madness I hoped you would kill it, giving Page and I the match of our careers, I was being an optimist. You should be ashamed and embarrassed with your performance, but that was all part of your little plan.”



Robert points to his head a few times with his index finger.



” When it comes to our Champion, he’s astounding at talking shit, but when push comes to shove, he won’t throw hands. It’s all smoke and merroirs folks, you want the world to buy into this tough guy act, yet you do your finest work in the twitter-verse? You camouflage yourself behind the mask you wear instead of embracing it. When I watch you, I see nothing more than a glorified YouTuber going to idiotic extremes to keep a fan base. You need to be checked and I’m the perfect man to put you right back where you belong, a broken-down comedy special floating around the mid-card. Champ you seem to presume that when you got trounced at March Madness you won by leaving with the Universal Championship and while you may have “fooled” the world into thinking you were retiring. Cute story, by the way, we called it out before it happened, and it played out just like we said it would. You delayed the inevitable. Any jackass with an entire bottle of screwball peanut butter whisky down their gullet saw it coming a mile an away. What you are is an easy mark, going in I want you know you’re in my crosshairs and I’m going to ensure that this time when I smear you all over that ring, you’ll flat out lose. No scapegoat this time pal.”



He motions one, two, three.



” No excuses this time around, no fucking over your partner, no blown-out knees. Shawn, you’ve always been a man that’s about timing, which is why you sat idle on the sidelines for so long. You found yourself a little niche wearing that Xtreem Championship. Riding Noah’s coattails waiting for that perfect moment. He kept you relevant, while you schemed behind his back and when that time came you gutted him dead center of the ring leaving him for the wolves. You found that insurance policy before cashing in, you thought that it was a safe bet. But you were wrong. The downfall of our dynamic Champion starts with this captain’s match, it will continue through Wargames where I will disembowel him in the middle of the ring like he did to his son. I’ll expose the man so many in this company have dick rode to the top. I want your team - vs - mine so you can’t run away from what is coming. That being the fucking truth. You’ve been hot for what six months? Two titles? Jack, I did that before you dusted your walker. I’ve held this company down for nearly a year.



Regardless of how great you think you are just remember one thing, you are not on my level. Hell, Shawn, you’re not even on the level below me. Every time we’ve been in the same ring, you’ve been eliminated or had an excuse. Let me break this down for you in a nutshell, all SHAWN "FUZZ" WARSTEIN is……. Is a guy holding onto a championship belt because I’ve let you. Because there is no Engineer. You might just be one of the most unoriginal talents the XWF has ever seen. You are no different than any other guy before you, trying desperately to fill shoes of a predecessor you’ll never be able to fill. If you are the guy Shawn, you’ll stand up at Warfare, dust yourself off and show me. Because if you come into this thing any other way. I’ll be the man that shatters the Universal Champion revealing he doesn’t deserve the crown. Wargames is the peak of the mountain and soon after the time will come, Fuzz, where I’ll step forward removing that belt from around your waist ending your transitional run on the top of the mountain. All your blood, sweat and tears evaporated in a single moment proving the point I’m trying to get across, you have no backbone. I’ve never seen a man with so much estrogen pumping through his veins. Jesus H Christ! Do me a favor, tuck your dick between your legs and get a tit job before Warfare because I’m going to make you my bitch!”



Robert felt like everyone else was mad, and only he knew the truth, everything has become crystal clear, strange ideas are making total sense, paranoia, belief in far-out ideas, his brain probing for validity, connecting dots that have nothing to do with one another, feeling lucid, intense feelings, hallucinations, hearing voices, feeling possessed. He leered with no emotion into the camera.





” Now that’s out of the way let’s talk about another man who at one time I thought was an ally that’s turned out to be nothing more than a jock rider… Centurion. No.”



There's an intense moment where he confronts the voice inside his head.



” Centurion is my fri….en…d. Ahhh!”



There is a scream from deep within that forces its way from Robert’s mouth, it is as if his horror-stricken soul has unleashed a demon. All he can feel is rage.



” NO!”



Confusion fills Robert’s mind as another voice takes over.



” He wasn’t there when you needed him. He turned his back on you.”



Robert nods in agreement in this intense moment of silence he somehow screamed with his whole body. His bloodshot eyes wide, mouth rigid and open, his chalky face immobile, he clenched one fist white knuckle tight his nails digging deeply into the palms of his hand.


” Centurion I love how you’ve become complacent defending a third-tier title taking on a who’s who of nobodies that wouldn’t be able to win a Championship if Barney Green was the defending champion. It’s sickening what you’ve become. There was a time when I admired you and respected your game. Just look at how far you’ve truly fallen. It took wrestling a trouser stain on this business in Tristan Slater to pull a decent performance out of you and he hasn’t beaten anyone but himself. Now you’re throwing your name in the hat to captain a team for War games, you’re finally putting your big girl panties on and stepping away from the Masterminds of the federation. I’m proud of you. The only dilemma is now you’re standing in my way and you should know better than anyone else what happens to people who stand in the way of “The Omega”.



Something flashed beneath the surface of his cynical expression as Robert grabbed both sides of his head trying to contain his thoughts. But it was too late, the emotion disappeared, like reaching desperately for an escaped balloon; the string dangling so tantalizingly close but the wind pushed it away.



” You might want to go ahead and chum up to Shawn some more because as far as I’m concerned, you’ve both have bull's-eyes on your backs. Maybe if the two of you rub your dicks together, you’ll get another Noah Jackson. You assume you’re the best thing since sliced bread and don’t get me wrong Cent you are good. Just not remarkable. In this game of seconds exceptional won’t get the job done, you’ve got to be phenomenal, and at one time you were. Now a man past his prime in the single biggest moment of your career staring down the barrel of a shotgun. This is a kamikaze mission, along with my drafted horsemen I will lead the assault in slitting your throat. This isn’t the bush leagues any more sunshine. You’re stepping in the ring with a man possessed, a man that gives two fucks about your quality of life. Do yourself a favor and walk the other way now before it’s too late, if you want to walk away at all because I guarantee you that if you try me, your tenure in this contest will last about as long as a fart in the wind. Cent I didn’t make the world the way it is, people like you did.”



Robert pauses briefly.



” Shane , then there’s you, I’ve already been there done that. This time around though I can’t help but notice how our views and opinions seem to now line up impeccably. Perhaps I was incorrect about you to a certain degree. Now I’m not going to say that I won’t stomp the fuck out of you if I must because we’re both looking for the same prize; an opportunity to make the crucial first pick to our respective teams. We already know that Shawn and Cent will back each other up because they absolutely must to survive. They are anticipating our pasts interactions to fester up, so we go after each other and maximize their chances of clinching a victory. Instead, maybe we turn that table on them and put their backs against the wall? That choice is yours. Now can anyone tell me what in the fuck is Red X and why the hell are you wasting our time with trying to compete in this match? Did Cent put you up to this? Are you next in line to challenge for his title? Or are we all getting punk’d? Because here on the deep end of the pool people like you drown, you’ve found yourself sitting at the grown folk's table with a lunatic and two champions.



I don’t mean to be a dick here, but I think it’s safe to say you’ll be picking last. I base this off the level of talent involved and well you’ve got show up and fight. I wasn’t even sure that you were an actual thing but now that I know it only makes your appearance within this contest that much more comical. Finally, there’s a jumping bean in the mix that’s been around for a while yet hasn’t made any noise when it matters. You looking to use this platform to springboard your shit career to legitimate stardom? News flash, it isn’t happening. Not on Warfare, not ever. You’ve got a better chance at tangling with Centurion than you do with squaring up with the real top dogs of this company. Chris Chaos telling you to “turn it” on is like asking a transvestite if she has a dick. The guy hasn’t turned a damn thing on since 2016 where he was nothing more than a flash in the pan for a few months. Asking this two-bit halfwit for advice is honestly mind-boggling. You are either a complete freaking moron or naïve. Just ask Chaos how many times I’ve abused him in the ring. Every single fucking time we’ve met. Taking advice from a complete disappointment will walk the very few minuscule things that you have accomplished ten steps back. He did say one thing that was correct for the first time in a long time. I will tear you limb from fucking limb."



Grinning he continues



" You don’t belong in the same ring as me, the same arena, or even on the same card. What you are is a downgrade. But then again, you’re in the mix to deal with Red-x so you’ll get at least one victory and won’t be a complete and total waste of space. It doesn’t matter how you slice this gigantic shit cake the biggest piece is coming my way. I’m on a warpath to rewrite the wrongs that have been done to me and if you’re not with me you’re against me. This is a perfect opportunity to draw that line in the sand allowing you all to choose your side. For your sakes, you had better choose the right side of this because not even God will have mercy on your souls when I’m through. You’ve been warned, and for those of you who elect to be foolish, stand against me. It’s your funeral.”