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Hanari Carnes · (09-06-2019)

Dead Man's Hand,

Part 1

The detectives stood over the body, which was wrapped in a white sheet. Only the feet and arms were visible, sticking out from under the white. Even the head was covered.

"So how did he die?" The voice echoed through the mostly steel room, bouncing off the shiny silver walls with more force than the words were said with.

"He got too confident, he didn't have his guard up, and he was ambushed."

The men all nodded silently. They understood, even if they didn't sympathize.

"So what was the cause of death?"

"Severe trauma to the anal cavity, as well as blunt force trauma to the skull."

The tag on the dead man's toe had a name written on it in pen........

"Poor bastard."

"It would take an evil bastard to do this, satanic, even."

"Indeed. This man was the top of the top, respected, even feared, by his peers. He began to think he was untouchable, and in many ways, he was. He let it get to his head and began to become less aware of his surroundings....."

One detective had a notebook out, jotting down some notes rather rapidly into a little flip pad. The other had his hand on his chin, nodding along to the words, and really listening.

"This man had a lot on his shoulders. It is tough when you are at the top. There are a lot of people who look up to you, but a lot of people who sit back in the shadows, waiting for you to slip up."

"So he slipped up?"

"Well he had a lot to keep track of. He was carrying two other men on his back for all intensive purposes. He had two cronies who were riding his coattails, following his every move, trying to live in his shadow. Making sure they were on the same success level as himself, it was too much to handle."

At this time, a man in what looked like a hasmat suit came in. His face was covered. He have the "wrap it up" sign with his fingers. They had to move the body soon.

Strangest looking coroner they had ever seen, but they didn't question it.

"So they ended up being his downfall?"

"Yes. Him needing to keep tabs on them as well as himself, he let his guard down. When he was attacked he was penetrated anally and then clocked upside the head. Whoever did this had a pre-determined motivation, and they got him when he was at his weakest. Smart move, if you wanted him taken out."

"Which was a lot of people, right?"

"Almost everyone."

"So there was motivaton........hmmmm....."

The hazmat looking man sighed, looking at his watch.

"So the two other men are still out there?"

"Yes, and now they are wandering around on their own, like little children away from their parents, with no guidance, no direction, no focus, but most dangerously of all, no respect."

The man in the notepad made an emphatic underline, then a hard pat on the paper, where he wrote a period rather forcefully.

"So then we need to find the other two, bring them in....."

He flipped the pad shut.

"They are in more danger now than ever before. They have been exposed, and now they have two baddddd motherfuckers on their trail."

"So lets bring them in, that is step one. If we can find them, talk to them, put them in protective custody before the men after them get there, we may be able to save whatever shred of dignity they have left."

Then men turned and clamored out of the room. The heavy door shut, causing a boom that circled through the room like the worst thunder you've ever heard. Then, it was silent.

Just a small hiss from the bulbs of the florescent lights that illuminated the room could be heard, and even that was faint. The man in the white full body suit made sure the coast was clear before approaching the body. He pulled the sheet down over the head of the dead man, and gasped from under his mouth cover. He was a hideous site. He was a bearded man, and there was blood all around his hairy face. His eyes bulged.

He touched the man's hand, picking it up and holding it. He rubbed his hand across it, albeit gloved, and felt every imperfection in it. He felt the calloused skin, the rough and dry, ragged nature of the man's hand.

A person's hands can tell a lot about them.

This man had put his work in. He had gotten down and dirty more than once, and his skin had the scars of a working man. As the hazmat looking man examined it further, he began to fidget with some tools on the cart next to the bed. The steel tools clanged together, producing the only noise in the room.

Eerie.

He settled on a small scalpel. Taking a piece of skin off, a small chunk shaped like a 6, he dropped it on the floor.

"That one is for Satan."

He then took the instrument and began to cut the arm all over, taking small pieces of skin off with it. When it seemed as though he had his fix, he dropped the scalpel back on the table. Looking around once or twice, he walked out the door. Emerging some time later, he had a duffel bag with him. Dropping it at the foot of the slab the body laid on, he unzipped it. After fidgeting around for a moment, he pulled out a hacksaw. Holding it up, he admired how the metal blades shined in the bright white lights. Then, he proceeded to cut the mans arm off............

Sawing, slowly.

From the elbow, he felt it puncture the flesh, which was not stiffer than it normally would be. Eventually he got to bone, and kept going. It made a sick grinding noise for what felt like an eternity before it popped free. He held the arm in his hand. He looked at it for a moment, then back at the blood stained hacksaw in his other hand. Stuffing them both in the duffel bag, he zipped it back up.

He went to turn and leave, but turned back. Looking over at the body once more.

He bent down over the figure on the slab, and moved his mouth cover down slightly.

"You fell off before I could knock you off" he said. "But your friends, they are mine. You left us too soon, and their arms will make good additions to my collection. You failed, just like they will fail. Your empire is over, and I am going to be the one to officially kill it."

He put his mouth cover back on, and slipped out of the room with the duffel over his shoulder. When he got outside the coroner's building, he removed the mask.

It was Hanari Carnes.

He was coming to Savage, he had a piece of Apex with him, and now he was coming for the rest.

The Arm Collectors are possibly the most random tag team this side of Peter Gilmour and Drezdin and yet here they are in the semi finals of the tag team tournament. This is their moment and they better hold onto it because they may never get it again.

"It es all comin' into place mang. All falling into alignment. Apex es crumbling, and dey now es more desperate than eva. Robert Main, de life blood of Apex, jus' got punked on national television, and dis week Los coleccionistas de brazos are goin' to finish de job! The fall of Apex is sudden, and after Saturday, they will be lef' with nothing! Oh how de mighty have fallen, eh?

Now it es time. XWF es tryin' hard to bring back de legends, but it es de new wave that has been making waves 'round these parts. Apex is old news, chico, worn out, overplayed, over-worked and has-been. Dey have been running roughshod over the XWF for too long, and every good thing es suppose'd to come to an end, right? Dis week, dey end. Point blank, period. Hanari and Missa Justice are goin' to no just break arms, but break the spirit of the empire known as Apex. Crush them into dust an rid dis company of dem for good.

Chu see, APEX es so proud of demselves, defending their tag belts five times already. They made sure to point that out. Rub it in. They is feelin' very confident, despite everything that has went down dis week. Big mistake. There es a fine line between cockiness and confidence, chicos. Chu es so cocky, it es almost like chu es over compensating, mang. Et is like chu es deflecting the idea that Hanari and Steve Justice could actually beat chu in dat ring next week.

And while Hanari es here, he jus' wanna get something off his chest. From DAY ONE, everyone say Hanari was goin' to fail. Nobody gave Hanari credit, nobody thought he would be any more dan one of dey gimmick characters XWF has become so known for. Every single person has written Hanari off. That has had da reverse effect, mang. It has been fuel, it has motivated Hanari to reach new heights. It has given Hanari energy. He was a campeón in his second match ever. He knows how it feels to be on that side of glory, and now he has a chance to feel it again. What motivates Hanari is the idea that even after impressive bout after impressive bout, you all STILL think he is a joke.

Joke's on chu all, fam.

Hanari es more focused than ever before. Hanari comes into this match with a partner that nobody thought he could gel with, but he has used the motivation of your doubt as food. Raven and Drew, two men who Hanari has been studying, are what lay between him and glory once again. Drew, a man who had been knocked goofy one too many times, and James Raven who had a knack to not show up in the big matches but is still looked upon as one of de greats. A man whose only recent success has been when he is TEAMED with someone. Someone who relies too heavily on his history, his previous accomplishments, his old self, and try to rub it in the face of all those he faces like it has anything to do with the present. It does not. If it were not for Raven's kiss-ass mentality and the fact that Jim goin postal created a vacancy, Raven would still be on the outside looking in, teasing us with returns and falling flat when the chips came down. Raven is a nothing, but his image is what carries him. Archyle is nothing without his buddy Robert, and together............

Les' just say that the facade, the mirage, the "idea" of APEX dies at the hands of Hanari Carnes and Steve Justice next Saturday.

Chu es welcome.

Chico's.

Viva el dominicano!

Viva el Savage!

Viva el Hanari Carnes!

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