Previously

A Nursery Rhyme

Mary had a little lamb.

Her fleece was white as snow.

And everywhere that Mary went.

The lamb was sure to go.

But little Mary never realized.

That her little lamb was led astray.

By a man with Yellow eyes.

Who left her lamb in disarray.

But Mary didn't care for him.

Because he was a sinner.

So Mary let the Yellow eyed man

have her lamb for dinner.

Psychosis: Relative Mentality

The scene opens to Scott Charlotte adjusting his camera on a tripod. He has just turned the camera on and it gets close-up shot of Scott's white v-neck shirt. He backs off and comes in full view. He is in jeans and no shoes. His hair is messy and uncombed. He walks over to his chair in the center of the shot. In front of the chair is a coffee table. He leans back in the chair and puts his feet on the table. He starts rummaging through his pockets looking for a small piece of paper as he begins speaking.







"So, I get this memo about this match I'm going to have come Monday Night. It's with this new guy, Titan. A regular child eater like his namesake. Nowhere near the levels of Dean Moxley, but certainly a terror to the likes of children."







He decides to stop looking as he can't find the paper or was there never a paper and Scott was just trying to look professional. Whoops, probably shouldn't have mentioned that. He continues.








"Apparently he thinks he is going to decimate me. He wants to eat me for dinner. He wants to make an example of me that he is nothing to take lightly."







He puts his hands behind his head in a relaxing fashion.








"This proves to me without the shadow of a doubt....I like him."







He moves his feet from the table and sits up with a shocked expression. A hand covers his mouth.







"It seems almost impossible that I, Scott Charlotte, would like anyone who ever said a negative word towards me, but it's true. Titan has this fire in his eyes that just won't seem to be snuffed out. He makes these bold statements. He's arrogant. He calls me out on my shortcomings of some sort of mental insanity that I have."






He twitches a bit, seemingly for show.






"You know what, I'm not the only one. You refer to yourself as a group. We. We. We. What's all this talk about We? You lost some friends along the way, but they still stay around? You see some demon that gives you advice? Are you Satan?"






He stops for a moment to ponder the insanity and reacts as if someone else was judging him. He is the only one judging seeing as he is alone, but I'm not telling him he's insane.







"What? These are my bold questions. What better way to answer your statements with some questions. Who's your doctor? Where do you get your drugs? Where'd you get that....mask?"





His eyes widen and he looks down at his feet. He shakes his head a few times trying to clear the cobwebs. He bangs on his temple with his right fist. He causes a bit of blood to stir from a wound. The blood trickles down his face as he bends over and reaches underneath the coffee table. He grabs a small, wooden box and places it on his lap. He opens it and stares down into it for a moment. He pulls out a burlap mask of his own, with stitches all over and eye wholes cut out. He looks at it for a moment reminiscing.







"This...thing has gotten me through a lot. I can understand why you hide behind that mask of yours. It protects you from all the bullshit of the world. Underneath you can put on your persona and not care what anyone thinks of you. Underneath you become a God to the faithless!"







He marvels at the mask, clinching it in his hands.







"How such a beautiful thing can become so rotten. It corrupts my mind. It changes me. Sure, things seem better for me, but it's not really me. It's him. It's the masked man, the demon, the God of Fire, the night terror. This mask gets good people hurt for no reason. You and I are a lot alike Titan. We have this facade about us that replaces our pride. Nothing good ever seems to be able to come from it."







His breathing becomes heavy and he licks his dry lips.






"Except for power. Power and untold riches. Something you agree with me on. Those trinkets, those titles are truly nothing with the power our masks hold. I obsessed over titles once before, I even obsessed over becoming king, but it was hurting that I cared about."






He snaps back into reality and shoves the mask back in the box. He shuts the box and collects himself. Clearing his throat he continues.




"Now he's gone. I can finally move on from it all. I can finally put the mask away instead of wondering if I should put it back on to defeat the man and the group I hated so much. Now my enemies are gone and my allies offer me hell. What more of an excuse to get rid of this mask do I have?"






A voice rings out in the room. A dark, rusty voice. A voice filled with malice and contempt. The voice of a demon.








"None."








Scott freezes up. His breathing becomes heavy again. He knows who's voice it is.






"How can you say that? You know I don't need the mask anymore. I don't want to be like Titan. I've been getting along without you! I've been winning without you! I'm stronger!"






"You are not truly strong. You lie to these people. You say that you care not for silly trinkets, but you lie. You want nothing more than you hold that crown and sit above everyone on your throne. A throne of hatred would soon follow and you'd be the one thing you hated more than ever.











Shane ."







Scott stands and shouts to the heavens.









"No. I don't want that. I won't do that!"








"Yes, you will. Without me you will be the next in line at the guillotine. With my power-"





"I don't want it you stupid twat! I am better than you! My series ranking is high and-"





"Ranking? You think that does anything for you? You could lose it just like that. If Titan beats you Monday Night it's the beginning of the downhill trot to the mud where you will spend the rest of eternity. That's where you belong without me. You're aspirations are nothing. Which life would you rather have? Work your way to the top and become or fall to the mud? The choice is yours...unless you chose me."







Scott is lost in thought. His heart, racing. His pupils, dilating. His mind, scrambling. His head twitches at the thought of the mask again. The feeling it gives him. Things were going so well. He was fighting back, but he can't fight anymore. He wants this. He NEEDS this.






"What...what would that bring me?"









The voice slowly responds with delight.







"Power and untold riches."







The voice fades and Scott stares at the box with tears in his eyes. He looks up at the camera and nods in a manner as if he were saying "goodnight." He looks back down, opens the box and slides the mask on his head. He fits it perfectly over his eyes and tightens to the noose hanging around the neck keeping the mask on. He breathes into the mask and his posture changes. He sits up right and crosses his legs. He cracks his neck and his fingers, never taking his eyes off the camera.








"Mr. Titan....I'm glad we can finally meet. If you don't mind I will be getting a change in clothes. I will return shortly to let you hear my side of things. Trust me, you don't want to miss it."






He laughs and stands up throwing the box behind him. The Wraith has embodied Scott Charlotte and it doesn't seem like he's letting go anytime soon.

To Be Continued