The thunder roared,
Lightning storm strikes razzled,
Closing from the distance as rain poured,
Colors filling my quivering eyes with dazzle.

Smashing branches the system caused,
But my head never swiveled to see the natural laws,
Each rare blink locked on the crimson brouhaha,
Seven minutes, it seemed like a lifetime to withdraw.

Soaked fields caked in mud,
Drops pinging the tin roof,
Everyone inside backing up,
Fearing natures wrath but I couldn't choose.

Like a tale of wonder,
Gusts shook every structure,
Barns about to crumble,
Sturdy yet undeniably humbled.

Still transfixed by the rainbows,
Of orange and red and white,
The clouds closed and opened,
I can never forget that night.

Animals found hiding places,
They moaned trying to cope,
The family hid under covers,
As if sheets could help them float.

Still by the window,
Though yelled at for being mad,
The glisten of power bellowing,
Kept giving my eyes all they could have.

Howling whirlwinds against wood and metal,
Each surge was dark and loud,
Shifting as if it wouldn't settle,
Part of the roof flew into the clouds.

The thunder warned us,
But we were helpless to refuse the barrage,
But we wondered on until now,
With a new roof, respect, and pause.

ThE WiTcH DoCtOr | BEAR BRADDOCK | 'Force of Nature'

---------------------------------

Prelude ||


A scrolling shot of the backwoods somewhere at night steadily moves across the screen. Just ahead of the large tree gathering, through the decaying branches and stale leaves, a lake. The moonlight dimly reflects the treeline off of the water. Water still, without motion: a flashlight in the distance steals focus. A closer shot of a man in an orange vest with a camouflaged shirt and a slinged rifle over his left shoulder moving quickly in a panic as the light flickers then comes back on. Repeating something under his breath, he eventually gets to the lake. The batteries in the light die... drooping his head in defeat at the waters edge.



Shit. Shit. SHHIITTTT!

The sound echoes through the empty area, as a trickle in the lake reverberates outward. He hits his light violently to catch a glimpse; it comes on for a second, another trickle closer to him, then again. It dies. He drops the light. Turning back and beginning to recklessly pace through the forest blind, he continually looks behind him. Over a log, down a hill, then hitting his shin on an old tree stump he stumbles to the ground cursing. A loud grunt is heard in the direction he came from. He holds his breath, then crawls around the backside of the stump to regain his senses assuming hallucination from the ordeal. The angle at lakes edge zooms on the flashlight pointing out to the water... it flickers one last time, revealing eyes peeking up from underwater.

---------------------------------

Scene | Flashback ||

A large building gate comes into view, the scretchy faded reel quality if the film leads us to believe it is in the past. A sign on the front gate finally appears in the scroll, 'Miss Havers Orphange for the Lost and Found'. Inside, a large room full of double bunks on either is the focus as children play all over the room. A loud whistle is head as they all drop their toys, magazines, and hide anything that can be confiscated under pillows and mattresses before standing in the center of the room at attention. An ugly old nurse with a nametag reading "Mrs.Steadman" walks sterny down the line of children. By a girl with red long hair, then a small bald boy, a pudgey sweaty boy, then the familiar one.



Mrs.Steadman
Bear Braddock, tuck that shirt in!

She continues down the line, writing notes on a yellow legal pad before turning around and beginning to speak to her purpose.

Mrs.Steadman
Children... we have a very important visit coming up, the Chancellor, Miss Havers will be in to evaluate and decide which of you are worthy of our little facility. Budget cuts have made it unfortunate but needed to cut five of you from the roster and return you to local foster care. Now I know it can be scary, but buck up! We can make an impression and only leave those of us we know to be no good... on the outside... looking... in.

She stops at Bear. Looking down at her pad she recants her agenda and continues.

Mrs.Steadman
Now, I expect bunks to be clean, children to be bathed, and nonsense to be at a minimum during this visit. Some of you may not like me, but trust me young ones, if I am replaced, you can and will likely get much worse as a Super Intendant! So with that said, turns in the shower start now, then we bed down. No comics, no illegal items, and you will go to sleep with bedchecks in one hour. ARE WE CLEAR?

The entire line responds, Bear lips the words, looking up as if he knows he is below the cut line already.

Children
YES MRS.STEADMAN!

Mrs.Steadman
Excellent, well get to it then.



She walks out as the camera follows her out the door and down a flight of steps. Walking across a corridor and into a room. She undresses, her saggy wrinkled body apparent, then walks into the next room out of sight. The sound of an old knob turning then bath water running. She walks back out humming a religious song.

Mrs.Steadman
Ohhh, tell it on the mounnttainn...

She comes back out and grabs a brown towel draped over a sewing chair, then hums again, as the sound of her entering the water step by step then laying down is heard. Still in the room the door to the room creeks slowly open. A switch to her face in the bath as she smiles showing her unkempt teeth and opens a leatherback book to read, checking the clock above the lime green tiled walls then settling into her reading. A sound in the other room catches her attention.

Mrs.Steadman
Hello there?

Nothing can be deciphered, she shrugs it off and hums again, turning to the next page.

Bear Braddock
Mrs.Steadman...

She nearly jumps out of her old skin, Bear stands directly next to her, face to face.



Mrs.Steadman
Oh, Bear! My goodness you gave me a fright! You should not be in here!

He turns his head and looks her body up and down, then back to eye contact.

Mrs.Steadman
You shouldn't be seeing a woman this way until your are older my boy, turn away, go on!

Bear Braddock
Am I going to be cut?

She places a hand on his shoulder.

Mrs.Steadman
Well, this certainly is not helping your chances to wonder in here and catch me vulnerable, now is it!? Turn away!

She covers her breasts with the book held tight as they sag beneathe. Bear turns away, then walks over to the sink, picks up a blow dryer, and plugs it in, then walks back.

Bear Braddock
You're ugly.

He throws the dryer in as she attempts to get out but is stunning by the charge in the water. He grabs her head with both hands and shoves her under water as she struggles but eventually succombs.



Bear Braddock
I like it here.

Once she stops moving he pulls out the chord and drops the dryer in a waste basket. He exits as he mangled steaming carcass sits in shocked expression, her book on the floor next to her limp lifeless hand.

---------------------------------

Conclusion. ||

Submerged deep in water, hands float on either direction. An inner monologue of the assumed heard.

To ash I have crumbled, and basqued in the glow of the moon. In caves I have lived under, and enjoyed the sunlights gentle swoon. Given treasure too rich to spend, and spent them all too soon. Relied on assumptions of this Earth, and died for it more consumed.

A flashlight hits the water briefly, the shot revealing Bear Braddock floating under water, gazing up slowly at the light.

Wars are decided on battlefields, or within roped squares we make. Warfare fought for honor, to stand up to those who try to take. Nostalgia brings a steady flow, of memories that we cannot shake. My eyes see the crooked lines a thorn or grave can forsake.



The light goes out then back on, out again. A rustling in the treeline murmur heard beneathe the surface.

With fire and gas I pushed a man to break and bend. Water can be another tool in drowning aspirations of three within. A fragranceless wet feeling can make you feel strong again. Strong enough to emerge, with the power of sin.

The sound gets further away as the hunter tries to flee the ripple effect in the lake.

Thorne, Graves, and Nostalgia believe they are destined to take XWF to the next tier of greatness. They think to themselves... well if I leave three including Bear Braddock in wake, then I can ascend the rungs of this holy alliance and become more than a figment of imagination. Yet, imagination and reality are two vastly different concepts. One based in a dream world where anyone can sky above the majesty of competition, and the other... well the other is a physical reality. Where four enter, and one is victorious and can add another rung to their accomplishments. Three more names to their list of fallen, and a hell of a story for their grandchildren to carry on for generations to come. But here there is a problem... I am the hidden gold glimmering within. I am the true master that can uphold the measures established by all those who ruled before me. Whether with the elements here on our planet, or by using the tools at my disposal in the ring. I will, one by one, catastrophically anihilate each and every one of you until standing is a mere one. It will be the man, the myth, the instant legend. It will be true and holy for all that pray or worship to set their sights upon. Because the Witch Doctor has something none of you can understand. Aggression within the depths of wonder. Each time I step foot in an arena, as I have proven, I cannot be stopped, bargained with, or defeated. The end all, be all has arrived, and at Warfare... it will open its jaws, and swallow up any and everything in its path. Just like the arena, the UPS driver, and the fan club that perished unsuspecting of a fate all too unkind.

He begins to move toward the land, under for far longer than an ordinary man could endure.

Darkness, my advisaries. Darkness. It surrounds us, and attempts to swallow us up. It entices us with voices, tempting with the lusts and desires of our baseless needs. Showing us glimpses of soft curves, smells of delicious fruit from forbidden trees. Though, we must fight it. Push away these desires, rail against the depraved lusts of our loins. Fight it. Just as I must fight you.

His head peeks above the water in view of the flickering flashlight....it goes out, and he emerges with the dialogue continued.



Ours is not a battle trying to become the new face of XWF. Nor is it a battle of one trying to top the others, trying to prove athletic or competitive superiority. No, ours is a battle of good versus evil. Of dark against light.

Bear rises and steps out, soaked in promise and water. He looks out and surveys the smell of the man hiding sticking his nose in the air, smiling, then knowing his direction.

The dark will always prevail. The dark will fight the light, wielding fists and swords... to slice, pierce, and bludgeon it into submission. Not submission, the light will not yield and join the dark... it will instead, propel it... into extinction.

Braddock paces into the dense landscape to find his prey. Just over the next clearing he notices a tree stump with a foot sticking out just beyond the left hand side. He pounces with wrath, the shot rises to the full moon above as screaming and knawing is listened to.

The fate you will suffer, Thorne, Graves, and Nostalgia... I am the way, the darkness, the hammer of will. Dropping that hammer upon you. Bludgeoning you into a pulp. I will bring you to the dark... to my side, as you should have always been. And if... IF you do not relent, IF you not atone for your sins, IF you will absolutely be baptized in my SEVERE GRASP. You will face your demons within a far worse fate... you will face the darkness as you have never done so before. When the hunters... become hunted.

Finishing up, the angle reveals a mangled body in pieces, within the darkness a figure feeding on something. It turns and reaches for the camera in the pitch black lighting, then fades away.

---------------------------------

Fade ||