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Chris Chaos · (10-21-2016)

“If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.” ---Sun Tzu,

The gun was held as steady as possible with shaking hands. The rain from earlier in the day didn’t make it any easier to grip the barrel, and the trigger was easy to slip off of. Either way, when you have something to do you do it. No excuses.

In the cross hairs was a man, dressed in a black button up and black pants. He was breathing heavy, as if he had been running, and was currently leaning up against a tree to catch a second wind. The man had a mask on---a mask of XWF star Hunter Payne. The mask appeared to be tied on tightly, as there was a red line across the mans neck where the base of the mask began. Was it glued? Who is crazy enough to glue a mask on someone?! And why was this man running?

Was it even a man?

The cross hairs focused again and they could see every detail. A voice behind the scope spoke up, a familiar voice. “Come on little Hunter…..run for me”.

The man apparently had caught his breath, but was now trying to take the mask off. “ah ah ah” the voice said, teasingly, “naughty boy.”

A shot was fired. It hit the tree behind the man before the sound of the shot even rang. The man jump, falling to the ground before scrambling up and running again. Another shot hit the wet grass below his feet, kicking up a baseball sized ball of dirt and sod. Shot. Shot. Shot.

Finally, after no more shots rang, the man stopped, again finding a tree to lean against. Breathing heavy, with sort of a groan under the mask, the man put his hands on his knees. Taking his guard down, wrong move.

A shot rang out rang out again, but the man yelled under the mask and grabbed his leg about 3 seconds before the shot was heard. “Got ya!” The man said from behind the scope, as the cross hair lowered and the camera watched the ground and a wook-booted foot make its was towards the writhing man.

About 50 yards before he reached him, we saw the camera shake a bit and heard the familiar click, click of a reload.

Aiming the scope back at the Hunter Payne masked man, he put his finger on the trigger. The man writhed on the ground, blood shooting from his leg like lava out of an erupting volcano—staining the wet grass all around it.

Walking towards the man, scope still locked on, the man behind the lens said “Run. Now. Go!”

The masked man tried to get up but fell. Lens man kicked him in the ribs rolling him over. “Go. Now or I will splatter your gray matter all over this fucking field! Run!”

“Nrrrghhh a lunn—arrgt—tick” the man said under the mask, “nnrragguuckingg crrazyy!”

“I’ll count down from 5.”

The man tried to get up.

“4”

Got to his feet.

“3”

He began to gimp away, blood still spurting.

“2”

He could barely feel his leg. He couldn’t be moving any quicker than 1-2 MPH.

“BOOM” the shot ran out again, and the man dropped. This time, it hit his shoulder.

The man was now barely twitching. “Thank god for Go Pro” the lens voice said. “now lets see whose under the mask shall we?!”

Walking over to the man he untied a knot that was on the back of his neck and loosened the string. Peeling the mask off we see it is Bruce Kehn under the mask, and the look on his face is one of sheer pain---and insurmountable anger.

“YOU ARE A FUCKING LUNATIC! YOU HEAR ME! A SAVAGE! WHY WOULD YOU MAKE ME DO THIS!?!”

The man behind the Go Pro just laughed, giving us a shot of the wooded area behind the downed formerly masked man.

‘SERIOUSLY! I CAN’T FUCKING BELIEVE YOU’D ACTUALLY DO IT! YOU HAVE TO BE CERTIFIABLY INSANE!”

Turning the Go Pro around to face himself we see it is Chris Chaos, and he has a huge grin on his face. A sick grin.

“It’s ME! And it is hunting season here in Kentucky! Deer, quail, pheasant, whatever the hell you feel like shooting! Yeehaw!”

Bruce groans.

“Even people. I am here to show this roster yet again that I am the hunter, not the hunted. I am the apex predator. I am the shark in a ocean full of smaller fish. I am coming for blood. I have spilled a lot of it here, and it will only continue. I had to spill Bruce’s blood here today to show the world that I am not afraid to go after even those I love to advance my cause. I am a hungry bear, and next on the menu is Hunter Payne……..So Hunter, I will tell you the same thing I told Bruce……...Run, while your legs still work.”

Chris cocks the gun and Bruce tries to get up and hobble away before the camera goes blank right before another loud shot can be heard.

_=_=_=_=_=_

Sitting in the hotel in Lexington, Kentucky, Chris had an epiphany.

With his white XWF99 tee on and gray sweatpants, he was just lounging. Bruce sat next to him, his leg wrapped in a heavy bandage and his arm in a sling. He had a disgusted look on his face.

“You know, Bruce, this was the first time I have seen this happen in all my years in Pro Wrestling….”

Bruce didn’t answer. He was obviously upset with Chris. Chris continued talking as if though nothing happened.

“Someone is out there to help me in this journey. You know? All the years I got screwed out of the biggest prize in the business in Phoenix Wrestling, I have a shot now to get inside the most devilish structure ever created and win the title than is rightfully mine.”

Bruce continued to sit, staring straight ahead.

“I have never seen this in all my years….as I was saying. A promo put out on a company sanctioned TV station that doesn’t even mention my name. I mean, how fucked up is that? All it was was as memorial for some black dude who was probably breaking the law and got shot by police. Boo hoo, it happens all the time in Tampa. Nothing new. I thought maybe Hunter would say SOMETHING about me. I hoped he would. But he didn’t. He is obviously shook.”

Bruce continued to sit, even made a huff sound.

“I mean, come on man. Did he expect to evoke tears of sympathy from that? All he showed me is that he is up to date with current social issues. I mean, come on. I am just dumbfounded by this. Aren’t you? Bruce…..Bruce!”

He punches in the shoulder. Bruce winces, then explodes like a cannon.

“YOU SHOT ME, YOU MOTHERFUCKER! JUST WHEN I THOUGHT YOU COULDN’T GET ANY CRAZIER, YOU FUCKING SHOOT ME!”

Chris laughs as though Bruce was just dicking around.

“Come on man, you are seriously mad about that? I was just proving a point.”

“YOU KIDNAPPED ME FROM MY HOTEL ROOM, TOLD ME YOU HAD A FUN GAME. YOU SHOVED A MASK ON MY HEAD TOOK ME TO A FIELD AND TOLD ME TO RUN. THEN YOU SHOT AT ME FOR SPORT. LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!”

Chris looked puzzled.

“Okay, suit yourself. Maybe when I beat Hunter Payne tomorrow night I won’t invite you to the after party then. You can sit here in your room and sulk. You gotta admit, you wearing that mask and squealing like a pig in heat was pretty funny though. Wasn’t it? Come on, lets watch is again. I have it recorded.”

After making Bruce watch the Go Pro footage almost 10 times, Bruce finally cracked a small smile. “I guess it is kinda funny. Look, just go out there and kick Hunter’s ass, okay? Get yourself one step closer to that Universal belt.”

Chris smiled big. “There is the Bruce I know! Love you, buddy!”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“Hunter Payne. For the remainder of this promo I will refer to you as Hunted Payne. Because that is what you are. You are being hunted. I am the hunter. Hunted, you see…..you aren’t what I thought you once were. You are a shell of the man I thought you were coming into this company. BUT, so has your competition. You see, you made a lot of noise your first couple of weeks. You came in here and you beat that imbred GI Joe Bearded War Pig. That disappointing product of brother and sister fucking was on a roll here, and you beat him with some cunning hide and seek maneuvers in Disney World. I should have known you were a fucking idiot when you called it Disney Land. I mean come on, everyone knows the difference.

THEN, that related parents, big beard and Kevlar vest wearing sex deprived Jar Head loses to Kitt Kennedy of all people. KITT KENNEDY. In a steel cage. You know Kitt. The one who gets his dick kicked in by every pile of jizz on the under-card for a meaningless belt that he flaunts around like it actually matters? Yeah, him. So that win suddenly looks a lot worse for you. It looks like maybe you aren’t all you are cracked up to be.

Then what happens? You get an undeserved Television Title shot the next week and a 12 year old takes you to your limit. Dolly Waters is a scrappy little twat, but you are the big bad Hunter Payne, right? I mean you beat War Pig, you MUST be good. Psssht, get the fuck out of here. I have spent a day at Steak and Shake in Tampa and taken harder shits than you. So Hunted, welcome to the exclusive list. What list, you ask? The list of victims. Welcome to the list of the hunted. I have hunted for weeks now and I can never seem to get rid of this appetite. I am a monster, through and through. I am running through this roster like a marathon, and you are no different. You are a speed bump on my race track. I will run over you and keep going. Hell, maybe I will even go airborne. That might be fun.

So what happened just last week? That’s right, nothing. You haven’t fought in a match sine Dolly pushed your shit in. Well, welcome to the top star on this roster. My name is Chris Chaos. I am the future Universal Champion and I have come to hunt. I will scope out every two bit chump on this roster until I am staring eye to eye with that crown wearing cunt named Scully, then I will take his ass out too. It is hunting season now in Kentucky, and you have been added to the “In Season” list. Hunted Payne. I like that. It rolls off the tongue better.

Don’t feel bad, Hunted. A lot of men, and even some women, have been slaughtered in that squared circle. It is not like you are the first one. Hell, you should be honored to have made the list. And don’t worry, Hunted, your night terrors about your little buddy they will all go away after this. From now on your precious wife wont have to deal with your bad memories of that incident. She will have to talk to you through the glass window of the psychiatric hospital when your night terrors get worse and all you can mutter incoherently under your breath is “Equalizer, Equalizer, Equalizer”

Welcome to the Hunted Club, Payne.

And by the way, fuck Ray Peterson”

He spits on the floor as the camera fades to black.

XWF RECORD: 8-2-2
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