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“Do you hear the scratching?”

“That gnawing sound in your head?”

“Do you hear the screaming?”

“The terrible voices in your head?”

“Do you smell it dripping?”

“The fear, soaking into your bed.”

“Do you feel it creeping?”

“That ominous sense of dread?”

The whispers drift through the speakers, drifting into your ears from both sides. A rustling breaks the sound of speech, a shuffling interrupts the speaker. The screen crackles once and the painted face of Danny Imperial is revealed for the third time on Savage’s segment channel. His head does a quick, unnatural jerk to the right, and he’s almost staring into the lens completely horizontal.

“Do you, Chaos? Do you? You thought you’d share, some of that pain you’ve been harboring… Why? So that we might see you as more of a human? As one who’s gone through suffering and pain as well, one who has faced hardships that have driven him to become the man he is today? You say you don’t need anybody to help you, or to pity you, then why? Why put up such a front for the world to see, what happened to that unbreakable, sickening bravado of yours? You say one thing, and do the exact opposite. Claim to want nobody to feel sorry for you, but do the exact thing to make them do so.


I mean, if you say it, it must be true though… Right?

I don’t have the killer instinct?! I. You look at me through those tinted eyes of pride, and I don’t have the killer instinct? My killer instinct is all I have, my killer instinct is exactly what pumps this blood through my veins. Those that watch me perform know it to be true, know that my killer instinct is what has gotten me this far. If you were paying attention to my promos nearly as well as you claim to have, you’d know that this paint was not for illusion. I don’t need you to see me painted to fear me, that I do with my body. My paint is a way for me to switch off. The paint is for me, so that when I see my reflection in the pool of blood I create, I don’t see the everyday Danny causing all that destruction.

Some artists have pen names, some actors have stage names. My paint is a way for me to separate my daily life from my ring life… Alas, it has been more difficult these days. My ring life has consumed most of my daily life. The lines that were once bold and distinct, like the lines on my face, have now been marred and blurred. It is taking over. It is beginning to overwhelm me. I shouldn’t probably fight it… But I don’t want to.

I need it, I need the part of me that’s all business. I need the part of me that’s a predator to be all I know. I know that that’s how I will come up on top, because this predator is at the very top of the food chain. I know that all it needs is time and patience to claim the throne you have no vacated. I know that if I give in to it completely, and worry less about my non-ring life… I will reign supreme.

My, my you make me shudder. I need to learn humility, yet the XWF revolves around you? Chaos. Your delusions sound worse than the voices in my head. You realize that all that screaming is all up here *knock knock*, and not coming from the real world… Yes? You realize that all those voices calling out to you, reacting to your life… All come from in here, don’t you?”

Danny taps his head twice, and then his chest twice, looking with concern into the camera.

“You see Chaos, like I can hear the voices, I can see the future. People argue that the voices don’t exist and that the future is unknown… But I beg to differ. The voices exist, to me at least, a part of my mind that is very real to me. The future is there, right within my grasps, and if I do all that needs to be done to achieve it… I will. So, I don’t hope to win anything, I don’t hope to do anything. Chris. I want to win, and I need to win, my body shivers and aches to win. Hope is for the weak, who can’t roll off their lazy asses to do what needs to be done, I have desperation and necessity driving who I am. And to keep pushing onward with those emotions, takes a strong and driven man.”

Danny’s lip begins to moisten, as he licks it hungrily. Drool begins to build up in his mouth as he huffs and puffs.

“Here’s the thing though Chris. Perhaps once, the expectation to win drove you. The confidence to always come out on top pushed you. But like I’ve said twice over. You’ve lost it. Nobody expects you to win anymore. You’ve already disappointed and you’ve already failed. The crowd despises you, and so they who once expected you to win, now have no reason to get behind you. You’re a deplorable man, and a losing one at that, Chris. There’s nothing to push you forward but a fall sense of domination.

Praise be to Chaos? Hah, the time for your adoration has come to pass. Any fan who might’ve worshipped you have all probably jumped ship. Anyone in the locker who once worried about facing you, most definitely thinks he has a chance now. I study you, to take you out, that’s simple. A predator must know his prey. Like a fresh bachelor come to rip a pride out of the dying hands of its old leader, this lion knows that your time has come, Chaos. I’ve seen that you’re no longer suitable to be at the top of this business, or anywhere even close. You’ve lost your flair and your commanding presence, it’s time for another to sink his teeth into your throat and rip your windpipe out effortlessly.

Let me throw the sport analogy right back at you, Chaos. Let me ask. For a team to prove its dominance, does it’s ten year record or it’s ten game record matter more? Sure, it’s great if they’re both fantastic. But when the ten game is pathetic and the ten year is incredible, the team is said to be in a rut. That’s where teams are most vulnerable, that’s where teams risk losing all their players and support. You, Chaos, are in a rut. You’ve lose your support, bar that of your few friends. Hell… Who knows if they still view you with any respect. A leader with less perfection in his record than his minions? Pathetic. And now that you’re in this rut, you are vulnerable. And perhaps if you remained untouched, you might scale the odds and come back up… Regain the honor that you lost. But I won’t allow it. I’m going to wipe you out whilst you’re here, and make sure you never rise to have your head over the water again.

I’m going to force your head down, so the cold waters of defeat fill up your lungs slowly. So that the black spots of irrelevance begin to fill your vision and the searing pain of annihilation starts eating away at you from your chest. I’m going to drown you in this despair until all you see and hear is my hungry voice, and your gnashing teeth.

You claim I verbally suck your dick? Because I think you’re a disease? That’s like saying the pastor who preaches abstinence is advocating a good fuck. I speak up against you, I speak up against your gang, I feel no pride or honor about it. I don’t enjoy it when the words come out of my mouth. Rather they leave me with a sickening taste of bile in my throat, a taste that I’ll eradicate when I crush you.

You did a deep dive into my work I see, I appreciate the time you took. I’m glad some of it could bring you some entertainment. I never cut Cain because he was new. Or because he was newer than me. I was calling him out on seeing a bigger picture, that he clearly didn’t see. Focused too much on me, and taking me out, he didn’t see the intricacies of the federation and because of that… He was insignificant. You’ve grown so large that you can’t see past your own gut, you look straight and see only the gluttony you’ve allowed yourself, and hence you too, do not see the grander scheme of things. You exist solely to feed yourself and to roll about in your own filth. And it disgusts me. Did you get that fizzling flame analogy from your buddy Main? Did he feed it to you whilst you fed him your diseased cock? Or did you just spend so much time reviewing other people’s work that your creativity took a dump and you just regurgitated used bullshit?

And then you went further, to back when I was facing Tidbits. You claim I made him the bar? Is that what you got from that little quote of mine? I heard you quote me a few times, and couldn’t for the life of me, see how you got that? My trust in the fates and in the destinies, was aligned with beating Tidbits. They’d shown me I’d come out victorious, and if I hadn’t... I’d have realized they didn’t speak to me. But I did, they did come true, and I was reassured that the fates did indeed smile upon me. But would I have hung up my boots if I had lost? Lord no. I’d have just given up on how I thought the world was run, return to agnosticism and continue my search for the truth. Your attempts at making me seem fickle and weak-willed are just frivolous trash. Don’t waste my time.

Robert Main damn near caved my face in? Did you watch that match? Did you see me take him to the fucking limit before he defeated me? I hate to say it, it makes my skin crawl, but I’ll damn well reiterate it for you. Main isn’t fighting this Saturday, I am. I have a feeling, I did a little more damage to him, but I did come out short, he did beat me. It took every ounce of his strength to put me away, caved my face in, fuck off.

I do not change, Chaos. I am a constant. A constant whirlpool of emotions and thoughts, I apologise for not fitting into your singular mold of confidence and nonsense. I do not flip flop, I flow. I do not pretend, or fraud, I evolve. Attuned with my emotional state and controlled by the passions of nature, that’s what I am Chaos. And that’ll never change. I am the embodiment of animal passion, and sometimes that’s strong, and sometimes that’s desperate and cornered. My foundation is strong because it’s based on the powers of the universe, not the week self-esteem of a base human?

It’s cute that you take a shot at me by comparing me to Reno. Who took your title from your able-bodied hands and caught more merchandise sales than you ever did. His promos won him the fans, and won him the match. Where’s the insult in that? I will conquer you but not to be you, Chaos. I will rise above, I’ll become what you were a couple of months ago, I’ll become the top dog of the XWF.

I wouldn’t want to be what you are now, if I can ever help it. I wouldn’t want to be, wretched.”

Danny pushes back the lens, turning away from it abruptly and walking off into the darkness.

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