Chapter 3. A shocking twist.

Prologue. This one’s for Chris Legend.

You may have no meaning for my title match. You may have no purpose at all. From what I can tell you are a money grabbing moron who is in fact more deluded than the man who spent half of his life in an insane asylum. Me. You claim to be a legend as your false name states but how can that even be so?

1. a. An unverified story handed down from earlier times, especially one popularly believed to be historical.
b. A body or collection of such stories.
c. A romanticized or popularized myth of modern times.
2. One that inspires legends or achieves legendary fame.
3. a. An inscription or a title on an object, such as a coin.
b. An explanatory caption accompanying an illustration.
c. An explanatory table or list of the symbols appearing on a map or chart.

Now I would love you to tell me which of these you are… You certainly are not number 2. You do not inspire legendary status and you do not hold any fame. In fact I am not sure if anyone in these parts has even heard of you or your whiney little voice. You claim to be making thousands of pounds yet it is obvious that this is another false lie from your vile lips. Management here are not all as deluded as I. They would pay you very little to make appearances on this show as you hold little value or reputation. You are definitely not mythical as you are not popular. I suppose you could be a symbol of tables appearing on a map or chart? I mean there is one clear similarity… Nobody gives two …… about either.

Money is not everything you know you young fool. This just merely shows how materialistic you are. You enjoy your hard cash whilst I will enjoy beating your ass all over Madness….

For Paul Heyman has just confirmed that on the 17th of June. When Monday Night Madness goes Xtreme…. Steve Davids makes a guest appearance in a match against you Chris legend. A match that will be…. NO HOLDS BARRED. I suggest you watch the tape of my match against Pete Gilmour a while ago in the same match type. You’re going to need to prepare yourself for the massacre that awaits. See, I don’t care if you are a new comer or not. I am death and your fate has been decided. The rest of your life shall be spent in eternal darkness and numbness. Relying on a machine to keep you alive whilst I continue to wrestle my way to the top.

Speak of the top. This Wednesday on Warfare I shall finally reach the top of the Warfare Mountain. Grasping the United States championship from the one arm of Mr. Satellite and holding it in the air. It has been a long time coming, my old friend. On Warfare, everyone’s worst nightmare awaits….. The monster that is Steve Davids shall finally be a champion.

You can put all of your precious little money on that bet Chris, because it’s a safe one.

See you on Madness in 12 days son.

End of Prologue.

[i] My eyes open suddenly and I desperately begin gasping for air whilst staring into the back of Lacey’s head, my arms wrapped around her as if I were protecting her. Sweat is pouring down my face as if I had been rained on and my heart is pounding faster than a drum. Rapidly I leap to my feet, only attired in boxers. I grasp my hair and look down between my knees and feet staring at the floor whilst running over the horrific nightmare I had just had over and over again in my head. I shake uncontrollably as Lacey turns and starts to panic.

Lacey
“Steve are you okay?”

I did not respond as she leaped to the carpet floor and sprinted out of the large bed room. Avoiding the bed side tables, chest of draws, wardrobe, rogue clothes and weights as she did so. Clearly sprinting to find Mark and Blaine to get some assistance. I roar uncontrollably, my hands turning into claw shapes and my veins popping out of my skin like dents on a leaf. I throw the wardrobe the floor in a flip out of fury with no purpose behind it.

Before I know it though Blaine has calmed me down, my breaths slow and I begin to regain my nerve. I look up and down at my uncle and laugh, it was unusual to see him in anything other than his sadistic red suit. Pyjamas simply did not suit him. Lacey stood by the door way in her pants and one of my baggy tops whilst Mark roamed around in his track suit bottoms puzzled at the events that had just unfolded. He quickly nipped to the kitchen and grabbed me a glass of water, turning on the grill as he did so. He looked particularly rugged this morning and evidently hadn’t slept well either. His beard was unusually uncontrollable, and his eyes were baggy. It might have been his bedroom, it was particularly uncomfortable on the odd occasion as the wind crashed strongly against his wall. My uncle looked strong, much stronger than he had been after our odd mishap at the asylum. Lacey’s face was pretty even in the morning when women look their worst…

Steve Davids
“It was that bloody asylum again… I can’t seem to get it out of my head. What were we being warned about? Looking around the asylum? Curiosity did kill the cat after all… I feel like there’s something much worse going on though. I am fearful of what else may occur, from now until Warfare we are to stay as a unit, is that clear?

…

Where the hell is Mark?”

Mark suddenly leapt into the room screaming and shouting before suddenly dropping to the floor and rolling around with laughter.

“Not cool Mark….”

Mark Collins
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just really couldn’t help myself. You were asking for it anyway… I am going to put on some bacon so bacon sandwiches all around. Everything else will be on the table to share, black pudding, sauces, toast. Yeah you get what I mean, just be sure to come in for breakfast shortly.”

Moments later I decided that I would have a bite to eat. But first of all I needed to shower this long greasy hair and this sweat covered body. I turned the shower on and locked the bathroom door shut. I began to brush my teeth, but there was a sudden silence and all that could be heard was the power shower running hard. I looked up from the sleek silver sink and stared directly into the dazzling mirror. A figure seemed to be sat on the bubble bath and instinctively I turned to kick. However, there was nothing there. Was my own delusion getting the better of me yet again or was there a fiend stalking my every move. It was too hard to tell through my insanity. Perhaps it was nothing. I overreacted. I suspect that I am just seeing things again as I did in Hellington a few days before.
My reactions had gotten the better of me. I spat the toothpaste out and hopped into the shower, the water rushing down my naked body. I pushed shampoo through my hair, but as I did so my mind blackened. Lights flickered and figures appeared into my head with the whistles of ominous gusts creeping past. The image of blood written on those dampened walls also eased into my mind, with the twisted mannequin’s faces warped and indented into my eyelids. How was everyone else so calm about it all? Or perhaps they’re not and they’re merely protecting me. That’s the kind of great people that they are though. They’re just looking out for me. They’re helping me. ARGH!

… My eyes opened after a short period of time. I was sat, leaning against the shower glass. I shook it off though, quickly washed myself and exited the shower.

Once dry, I put on my white dressing gown and exited the bathroom, heading for the bacon sandwich prepared for me by Mark.

“Thank you. That means a lot. Those images continue to flicker through my mind though. I am not quite sure what is going on. Enough though. We need to get to the Kemper arena…..”


The silver limo pulled outside of the Kemper arena after the safe travel. My door swung open and I stood outside for a moment, lifting my blackened sun glasses off of my eyes and briefly looking up its huge stature. Feeling more prepared than ever for the fight that was about to occur. I looked much more like a superstar than a super freak tonight. A dazzling silver suit with an open collar black and grey striped shirt with shiny black leather shoes to fit as well. My facial hair is still a mess as always but that’s just me. I offer Lacey a hand as she gallantly rises from her seat, in a silver sequin dress that matched my suit. She looked truly stunning with her blond hair dangling down to her shoulders glistening in the sunlight. Blaine wore his usual blood red suit. Not as stunning but as official as a manager could look. Mark wore his signature smart black suit, attracting the sun that was headed down. He winked at me through his sunglasses and I winked back.

“Got the flags?”

Mark Collins
“Of course I have the flags. Why else would we be here so early to address these fans…”

I responded with a nod before we headed to the backstage area. Everyone avoiding us as they always did. It really did sicken me. No one had the guts to confront me but it was always clear that they have an issue with the man that I am. Why do they not just say something? I was then informed that my chance to speak before the show was now… So I told them to play my music, as I wrapped a British flag around me, Blaine equipped with a bible, and Mark carried a United States flag in his hands, lifting it into the air as if to celebrate the existence of America. Of course that’s not the real reason why we are out here….

“What I’ve Done by Linkin Park” bellowed out of the booming speakers, and the fans erupted into a sudden jeer. I was angered as ever by this and shook my head with a grin in disapproval, shaking my index finger at the same time. My followers surround me, just behind me so that I can stand out to the booing crowd. A reaction Paul Heyman would be proud of is what sprung to mind as I stride down the ramp, the flag brushing backwards like a cape. I climb onto the ring apron with a sad smile on my face. Lacey climbs the silver steps and I lift the middle rope up to help her into the ring. I ascend to the ring assistant and snatch the microphone off of him before ascending to the centre of the ring. My music cuts but the fans continue to jeer. I wait a few moments for silence before as I attempt to speak a “you can’t wrestle chant” floods the arena faster than a tsunami.

The hatred was truly deafening. Although my actions will silence them or merely encourage their hatred. There is only one way to find out...

They eventually quietened down allowing me to proclaim to the thousands of fans who packed into the arena. The taste and smell of salty sweat lingered around the ring and the crowd. Popcorn and candyfloss sweetening the smell in certain areas.

Steve Davids
“You people make me sick. I am out here to make a bold point that will likely anger the majority of you…
I am sick of the United States. I am sick of its policies. You are not the international police now please listen closely to what I have to say because I have never been more serious about anything in my life…

First of all your ludicrous religion needs to die the purest way…”

Blaine pulled out a match and lit the bible on fire, throwing it to the ground as it burnt and rot away. I spit on the vile religion in hope that these people will realise the falseness in their faith. Instead jeers and boos fill the arena once more.

“If oh mighty lord you have an issue with my book burning then please God, strike me down…

Nothing. Of course… nothing. Death has not cast his fate upon me yet so I shall live. Death lives in all of us. More so me. Yet he is the one true God. Perhaps you shall all succumb to this deep intelligence one day. Or you will forever sleep in ignorance…”

Blackened silhouettes suddenly appeared in my eye line amongst the crowd, I shuddered briefly, before shaking it off once more by blinking twice. The fiend had vanished like a magic trick. My delusion was suffocating me once more…

“If only the Senator were here to witness what I am going to do next. He is too busy losing his precious European championship though isn’t he? Hahaha…

Your policies America, and your ideologies are the vilest of them all. Obama is probably having a right old laugh watching Homeland in his office whilst hopelessly killing shepherds with drones like the hopeless leader that he is…. Mark, if you would?”

Before we knew it the American flag was in flames. Jeer flooded the arena constantly at my sickening act of anti-America. I enjoyed the sadness and fury that was being shouted upon me like lightning and thunder though. To know these people are upset is all that I demand… I pass the British flag to Mark whilst the American flag and bible burn and are extinguished by the ring assistant who I look down upon in disgust. Mark holds the flag into the air proudly as I climb to the top of the turnbuckle and begin to sing ‘God save our queen’ whilst the fans try to interrupt with chants and jeers.

“God save our gracious Queen
Long live our noble Queen
God Save the Queen
Send her victorious
Happy and glorious
Long to reign over us
God Save the Queen

As much as I love Britain, it is not God who will save the queen. It is death. Death will decide her majesty’s fate. A long and prosperous one it is….
Enjoy the show.”

We leave the crowd and begin to prepare for the match that awaits. Booing continues until we are eventually out of the picture which leads to a celebration from the repulsed fans.

As I reach the locker room though. I collapse one more into a state of shock and sweat. Will I be able to compete tonight? Here is hoping.

Epilogue.

The Final Warning.

A time will come for all of us when a decision must be made. Tonight shall be the decision of glory, humiliation, defeat, honour, victory and pride. The toxic venom eats us all away from the inside but tonight one man may bask in gold for a while….

That man shall be me. If any of you try to stop me, then Death have mercy on me for the horrors that I shall commit. Destiny and fate are calling my name bellowing. Will another false God strike me down? No. Tonight is different and I know it… Those four words are echoing around the arena already as well as the minds of my weakened opponents…

All men must fall.

3x Xtreme Champion
1x Briefcase Holder
1x Television Champion
1x Universal Champion