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Cain · **05-07-2014, 10:50 AM**

Cut to the beginning of Wednesday Night Wafare, but there are no pyro. The ring is decked out in black cloth, with a casket in the center of the ring and a podium near it. There is a black and red flower arrangement on top of the casket, which is solid black with chrome handles. On top of the caslet is a life sized portrait of Morbid Angel. The crowd is silent...for now.[/color

[color=#FFD700]"What the hell is this?"

"I don't know. I mean...uh...maybe it's some kind of funeral procession for....hrm..."

The color commentator is rightfully confused. After all, Angel had just died like this morning. No time to put together a funeral procession, right? Not for the man from Jeruselum. Nope. He always plans ahead.

"The lights have just went out here in the Dunkin Donut center!"

"Someone obviously forgot to pay the electric bill, dude. This shit happens alot in our sport. I'm suprised th-"

Suddenly, the opening riff of "Seek and Destroy" by Primal Fear brings the entire arena to their feet. The lights come up to a very dime red and the camera searches the crowdfor someone, or something. That something is found standing at the top of the cheap seats. He is an absolute Beast, lean and fit in his solid black armani suit but looking monsterous, his eyes glowing a blood red color, canines extended to their full length. Romulus Heinrich Winters lets out a primal scream, then bumps fists of the fans down toward the ring, his speed and agility unbefitting of a giant. Inhuman. Like a predator. He steps over the guard rail and runs up the steps, red strobe lights going off throughout the arena. He steps over the ropes and storms the corners, one by one, fireworks going off overhead as he throws a fist up center ring.

"These fans are blowing the roof off the top of the Dunkin Donuts Center!"

"The Original Beast has a stick! I guess HE put this together for Morbid Angel! But why?"

He stands at the podium, microphone in hand, the fans chanting over and over.

Rom-U-Lus

Rom-U-Lus

Rom-U-Lus

His lips curled upward.

"Yes, I am here. For all my Cainanites here, I have taken the liberty of putting together a memorium. For who? None other than Morbid Angel. That's what you all call him, isn't it? I shall call him that as well, because I dare not soil my tongue by speaking his true name. You see, what Morbid Angel doesn't seem to realize is that I do not look upon him as you all do. I do not ..."

He makes air quotes.

"..."mark out" whenever I hear his name. I amnot some fifteen year old screamo kid who creams his tighty whities whenever Morbid Angel's music hits. Nein. For you see, I am someone who is as dangerous to Mister Angel as the poison he ingests daily. I am an apex predator, and my powers have EVOLVED over thousands of years. So as much as he wishes to deny that he fears me, deep down, he knows he is wrong. DEAD wrong. Yes. I have killed and I will continue to kill. Yet you sheep, you follow me...you...my Cainanites. My creatures..."

He chuckles and steps down from the podium, moving over to the casket. He gently caresses the marbled wood lid and shakes his head.

"They let you come back, Morbid. I know that, and I also know that you will take everything I say and try to turn it back on me. You've been doing that in your promos, haven't you? You see Morbid, my whole existance...haha...the very fact that I am alive has mind fucked you. Everytime you speak, you debunk my claims of exactly who I am. Oh, it's damned true. I've been on your mind like fucking head lice and you cannot deny that. But do not worry..."

He produced a bottle of Kingsford charcoal lighter from his jacket and smirked. He turned the bottle upside down and started pouring it all over the the portrait.

"...because tonight, you really won't have to think of me anymore. Because when I kill you, you..."

He pulled his trademark zippo from his pocket and struck it.

"...will not..."

The portrait goes up in flames, and we get a close up of it. We hear Romulus as the scene fades to commercial.

"...come back."

-Burn In Hell-

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