09-24-2018, 11:48 AM
“You wanted a war. You brought an army for a war. I am just one man… but I will bring that war to your doorstep and I will bring you and your army down POINT BLANK!”
**STATIC**
The sound of laughter resonates through the scene as the last line from the recently-released Donovan Kayl promotional video airs. The television upon which it aired now shows nothing but the snow of static, the piece brought to it’s close. As the scene pans around, we see Damian Angel, better known to the world as “The Devil Himself” grinning malevolently at the television.
“Well then,” Damian says to himself. “The game is afoot.”
The scene fades…
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Club Chaos.
The club owned by Cindy Todd, located in the heart of Las Vegas, has become the home of much chaos and debauchery. It’s reputation, primarily driven by its alternative clientele, is such that most visitors tend to refrain unless they were looking for fulfill a specific king. So of course, for a man like Damian Angel, he would walk right through the doors, disregarding the bouncers and security personnel, and move straight through to the bar. Once there, he moves immediately to the bar, where a Black Sunday already awaits him, the ingredients stocked specifically for his arrival as they tend to be too much for most. It is then that he moves through the bar, ignoring the masses attempting to seduce him further into the mindless trances they already enjoy. Instead, he finds his focus on the VIP area, which he walks through with impunity, passing Cindy as he does and moving directly to the door heading to the roof of the establishment. Cindy glares at him as he goes, prompting Damian to smirk as he takes a drink from his glass. Moving up the winding staircase, Damian pauses briefly, hearing footsteps behind him. Smiling to himself, he completes his ascent an stands out on the roof. After a moment, he finds himself joined on the roof by the club proprietor and one of the most dangerous women in the world.
“You have a lot of fucking nerve, Damian,” she says.
“Oh?” Damian responds with a simple and curt “oh”. “Is that any way to greet an old friend?”
“We are no friends,” Cindy says emphatically, almost driving her words into Damian’s chest.
“That hurts,” he says in an almost-mocking sing-song tone. “Here I thought you and I shared something special.”
“What do you want?” she asks him point blank. “Are you here to taunt me? Or grab some of my customers for your games?”
“Nothing of the sort,” he says as he turns, facing Cindy and drinking from his glass. “Actually, it is you I came for today.”
“Yeah, I’m still not interested,” she responds. “I’ve had my life controlled by one psychopath before… I don’t need to start following another one. I follow no man. I lead.”
Damian only chuckles as he drinks. “Steven Devious does not hold a candle to what I am capable of. Even at his peak before your sister burned down his compound, he was not strong enough to even comprehend the depths of my power…”
Damian tilts his head, spotting Cindy tensing up.
“Or were you the one who burned down the compound?” he asks, again almost mocking her. “It has been so long… the details have all succumbed to a fog.”
“Just think of how foggy they’ll be when you’re thrown off this roof,” Cindy steps forward. Damian only laughs.
“You are not going to throw me off this roof, Cindy,” Damian says in a very matter-of-fact tone.
“And why’s that?” she asks.
“Because,” Damian begins, almost sounding like he’s explaining something that shouldn’t have to be explained. “You need me, Cindy. You need me because, as long as I am here, you have an opportunity at redemption.”
“Redemption?” Cindy scoffs. “Is that what you call it?”
“Imagine how much you would endear yourself to Donovan…” he sneers. “To Kennedy. And you and I both know that would not be accomplished by casting me off this roof.”
“And why not?” Now Cindy is clearly humouring Damian, who doesn’t appear to be moved by her tone.
“Too brutish,” he says completely unironically. “To put me down properly requires more than mere brutality. It requires stealth and poise and consistency. I am merely a man in a vessel right now. Casting me off this roof… killing this body… would only send me into another form, and I would come back more powerful and more dangerous than ever before. And imagine how you… how those you care about, Cynthia… imagine how they might feel knowing you squandered the opportunity to put me down for a moment of anger and passion.”
“You’re truly insane,” Cindy says directly in Damian’s face. He smirks, finishing his drink and pressing the glass into her chest.
“Maybe so,” he says. “But is that a risk you are truly willing to take?”
Damian grins, pushing past Cindy, who stands her ground.
“So why are you even here?” she asks, getting more fed up with Damian’s games. “To taunt me?”
Damian smirks, turning back to her and wagging his finger. He pulls a package out of his pocket, tossing it over to her. “To taunt him.”
Cindy, confused, opens up the package and pulls out a small picture… it’s a picture of her with her good friend and the man who saved her life, Donovan Kayl.
“Why did you…” Cindy shoots her head up mid-question to face Damian, but her question is cut off by the suddenness of Damian no longer being in her presence. All she has to remember this meeting by is the glass he pressed to her chest and the picture “gifted” to her. “Fuck…”
The scene shifts away.
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“There will be no grandiose speech from me today. Oh no. As the world prepares for SCW’s Fatal Fortunes, I shall keep my statements brief.
To whomever draws the unfortunate position of standing across the ring from the Devil Himself… pray. Pray now. Pray to whichever ill-gotten God you believe in, because once you are face to face with the Devil Himself, there will be none left to save you! I will be the end of you… the Alpha and the Omega. Beginning and end! The avatar of the man for whom my second message is intended. And, for many of you, being that avatar will be the closest any of you get to being recognized as World Champion. Who says the Devil Himself does not also give?
My second message is for Donovan Kayl. Surprise, surprise. I know this is predictable, and while I do embrace the cause of chaos, of breaking down the expected and replacing it with the erratic, I find myself compelled to respond to you… your return, your insistences that you will be the end of me… my “maker”, so to speak. I find it humorous because, until now, I have had your number every step of the way, save for the minor hiccup at Apocalypse. I have had tabs on your travel plans, and the ear of people close to you who you cannot begin to imagine have been compromised. I have seen every steps you were planning to take, again – save one. And I must say, Donovan, getting that whore to drive you to Chicago… well… even I did not expect you be so brash. People talk, Donovan. People whisper.
But bare in mind there is nothing you can do… no steps you can take… that I do not know about. I have you in the palm of my hand… or is it someone close to you that I have in my back pocket? A little food for thought. But regardless of the correct answer, understand that this ends when I decide it ends. You are not in control. You will never have that control again. You have two options if you wish to walk away and not be carted away on a stretcher:
Bend the knee.
Or wave the white flag.
There is no in between. Absolute fealty or surrender are your only options here. Choose wisely and I may allow you to live out the rest of your days in obscurity and disgrace. Choose wrong? And I finish you myself. See? It is simple.”