(This event takes place following the events of Fight! NYC's Countdown)

Centurion hasn't felt this way in a long time.

It wasn't the pain he felt following his epic encounter with Chris Page at Fight! - he was used to that. It was the rage - the rage he felt for Page, the rage he felt for everyone associated with him, and even the rage he felt for himself for allowing such a golden opportunity to slip through his fingers. Rage was all he could feel at the moment, and he knew he had to take it out on someone.

We open up outside the Fight Tower in New York City. There, we see a smattering of people walking out following the events of their most recent event, Countdown. Cars line the parking lot, trying to exit into the heavy NYC traffic, and some wrestling fans stand outside, talking to one another about the show they just saw.

Bursting through an employee access door nearby is Centurion. He is covered in blood and is limping, but he is limping fast, and has a look of intensity on his face as he walks out into the parking lot. Immediately behind him comes Ruby, Erin, and Nellie, along with members of the Fight! crew, and an EMT. All of them are chasing after Centurion, who barely acknowledges their presence.

"Dad!" Nellie yells out at the grim sight that is her father. "Stop this! Go to the hospital! Now!"

"Don't you fucking tell me what to do!' Centurion yells back as he stops dead in his tracks. He turns around and raises his arm to Nellie, pointing at her as blood drips off his index finger. "I don't need a God damn doctor. I need a camera."

"Andy, please…" Ruby pleads with Centurion, but it is of no use. Centurion is so incensed that he completely blocks her out.

A member of the arena staff is able to catch up to Centurion, but before he can do or say anything, Centurion grabs him by the collar, leaving a rather large stain of blood on the man's uniform. "One of you...get me a fucking camera." Centurion growls at the employee. "And someone else, get the car!"

"You are absolutely ridiculous!" Nellie yells out in a huff. "Come on, Rubez! Let's go get the car, and let Bleedy Magee here let out his anger. Maybe he'll still be alive when we get back."

Nellie storms away, as a really concerned Ruby looks at Centurion, confused as to what she should do. Seeing that there is no helping Centurion in this situation, she runs after Nellie. The staff, meanwhile, runs back into the building, leaving Centurion standing with the group of fans outside. Centurion turns to one of the fans who is smoking a cigarette. He lifts his bloody hand to the fans and gestures towards him.

"Can I bum one?" Centurion says incredibly casually. The fan, who looks at Centurion as if he is a villain in a horror movie, quickly reaches into his pocket and hands him a cigarette. He also lights the cigarette, allowing Centurion to lean against a nearby light pole. Just leaning on the pole leaves a streak of blood running down it from Centurion's wounds. After a few seconds, a member of the crew comes running out with a television camera. Centurion takes his cigarette and tosses it onto the ground as he storms over to the camera person.

"Is it on?!" Centurion yells at the man holding the camera. The man checks a few settings before nervously nodding. "Send this over to Vinnie Lane when I'm done. He'll know what to do with it.

ELIJAH MARTIN!!"

Centurion screams into the camera as blood continues to drip down his face. Everyone within earshot is now turned toward the commotion.

"I want you to get a good, hard look at this face, Elijah. I want you to look at this body, at this blood, at this glass…"

Centurion raises his left arm to the camera and pulls a small piece of glass out of it before tossing it to the ground.

"I want this to be the face you see when you sleep. I want this to be the image of me you see when you walk down that ring on Thursday night - because I want you to know WHY you're about to endure the pain I am going to inflict on you.

I know you were watching tonight. I know you were up in that cozy box, sipping on champagne and smiling every time Chris Page hit me with something heavy. I'm sure you're out at some after party now, LAUGHING at me, and coming up with all sorts of jokes about my performance. But what you don't understand is that what you witnessed tonight wasn't MY undoing - it's yours.

I was ok with just beating you, Elijah. You're an annoying prick, and I certainly wasn't going to let you walk away with my Anarchy Title, but now? Now, I need someone to experience what I just experienced. I need to hurt someone. I need to break something. And you are perfect.

I won't stop at just defeating you, Elijah. I'm going to make you beg for mercy. I'm going to have you reaching out to Daddy Page and screaming "why?! Why is this happening to me?!" And I won't feel bad about it. I won't feel anything at all.

Your shot at the title should have ended in that Kennel From Hell. If you knew what was ahead of you, you would have begged Vinnie not to sign this match. But it's too late now. You're too prideful. You won't back down from this. And I'm glad. I hope you have your affairs in order. I hope you and Lexi have one last farewell slam just before you walk down to that ring, because trust me when I tell you this, Elijah…

I'M GOING TO FUCK YOU UP! And in ways you never thought possible.