"I already know what you're going to say."

The lightbulb in the dark room sputters to life, revealing Mystica seated on a rickety stool, his eyes locked on the camera slightly above him. He smiles, as if greatly entertained by the object.

"It's all anyone ever says. It's all anyone can ever come up with. You're a pawn, Mystica."

He chuckles, running a hand through his messy hair.

"Yeah, yeah. Heard that one a lot. See, whenever I'm in a match, all anyone can say is that I'm some underling. Eli's little puppet. God, what a tired metaphor. Puppets. If David were here, he'd criticize me for even mentioning it. It's a damn cliche is what it is! Puppets! They dangle from thin strings and are easily controlled by some higher power. And people think that bothers me. Hah! With someone controlling my destiny, how in the world can I have any semblance of respect?"

He frowns harshly, grabbing the lightbulb swinging above him. Though it is hot to the touch, he can't feel anything. There is no pain in those calloused fingertips.

"And there's the rub. Respect. I earn it. I don't go crawling back to my puppetmaster, looking for a pat on the head. I just kick and claw my way inside people's skin. They never see that kick to the head coming. They downsize me into just another lackey. A faceless mook of Eli's that does his every bidding. But here's the thing...Eli won't be there to save me Monday. I'm going into a foreign land. Madness! I'm tumbling into Madness! There's no back-up! I'm on my own there. And if MacAlister wants to bring Duke or Gilmour out with him, all the better. More blood for the taking. When you step into the arena with backup, you get soft. You start thinking you're untouchable. Precisely the reason I want to come alone. I won't be comforted. I won't have anyone to wipe the blood from my face. No one to protect me. I will not be a lamb to the slaughter."

He lets go of the lightbulb, and it continues its swinging arc, sending shadows dancing across Mystica's hardened face. His eyes look incredibly tired, as though he hasn't slept in days.

"Another thing people think about me is that I'm insane. Two personalities, three maybe? Oh, he's nuts! He's lost it in the head! He's insane! Well, I can quite assure everyone...I am quite insane. And that's what makes me so very dangerous. It's the unpredictability of madness that triggers the fear of humanity. Something we cannot predict and cannot understand. We fear the unknown. And that's what's inside me. A great unknown, even to me. I have no idea of what I'm going to do next. And here's the big thing...neither does anyone else."

He shrugs.

"I guess it's easy for someone to label and forget. It's simple categorizing. You lock someone into a stereotype and lock 'em up in that corner of your mind. You disregard the person beneath, and you just don't bother anymore. Talking trash is easy. But empathy...it's a lacking element in these days. We're all sociopaths, turning that ability on and off to our liking. So where do you stand, Griffin? With your match against the King coming up...where in the hell can you put yourself? Man? Sociopath? Mechanic? Simple. But I don't put you off for a simple man. I know your desires. You have the same goal as anyone else. Glory. Simple. But we can all think of the same thing. Let's see who--"

The lightbulb suddenly flickers into darkness. When it flickers back on, Mystica has been replaced by a more disheveled, nervous looking version of himself. David looks into the camera with desperate, pleading eyes, his breath caught in his throat.

"Griffin, if you're listening to this...don't listen to him. If you see Alexandra, tell her--"

The lightbulb flickers away, and when it returns, Mystica is back, now standing much too close to the camera. He smiles.

"Tell her she's barking up the wrong tree."

Achievements

• 1x Tag Team Champion
  
• August 2013 Superstar of the Month (Thank you all so much!)
  
• 1x US Champion
  
• 1x X-treme Champion