Footsteps…
Right… left… right… left… right… left…
Echoing down a hallway. The only light to be seen right now comes from the bottom of a door. The inside of the room is darkness, exactly the way its resident prefers, but not by the resident’s choice. The darkness is forced, much like the sound of the footsteps getting closer and louder.
Left… right… left… right…
A pair of voices are heard outside…
Voice 1: “Subject 667?”
Voice 2: “Heavily sedated. Has demonstrated violent tendencies with the doctor. Recommended shock therapy next, but if that fails to provide the necessary results, a lobotomy is not out of the question.”
Voice 1: “Such a shame… he had such potential too…”
The footsteps continue down the hall… left… right… left… right… but the volume slowly decreases until all that remains are distant echoes. The scene shifts…
----------
DAMIAN ANGEL
in ‘The Big Bad’
It’s SCW Breakdown, and Damian Angel has just spoken his mind. Har Megiddo, his hit squad, have departed for the night. Damian sits alone in the shadows waiting. Watching.
Wondering.
Damian: “I knew you would be the last to leave, Alex.”
CHBK, Alex Desoubrais, walks past, stopping at the sound of his name as Damian slinks out of the shadows. He stands in front of The Devil Himself, but he only grins, because what he sees in front of him is not his bitter rival, the man who once broke his back only to fall to him 12 months later. He sees an ineffective villain… a man who sought to run “The Cornerstone” from the industry, only to fail.
Damian has had his taste of failure.
CHBK: “Hello, Damian.”
Damian: ““Hello, Damian.””
CHBK: “I’m neither in the mood nor the necessary position to play games with you. I don’t know if you’ve noticed from the shadows, Damian, but you’re not exactly a pressing concern for me.”
Damian: “Not a pressing concern… Alex, I should always be a pressing concern for you. All it takes is a snap of my fingers and my monsters will be able to step out and utterly decimate you. Break you. Destroy you!”
CHBK: “Your monster?”
He laughs.
CHBK: “Your monsters have proven to be as ineffectual as you have, Damian. There was a time when you thought you had broken me. There was a time when I thought you had broken me. But the thing is legends don’t die, Damian. We survive. WE thrive. We adapt to changing surroundings. And look at this… while you just had your first appearance on television since November, I have been instrumental in changing the very fabric with which this company is woven. You are satisfied playing small ball with Donovan Kayl…”
Damian cringes, still suffering the effects of the steel cage match with the Cornerstone a month ago.
CHBK: “While I am guiding the future of the industry into her rightful chair.”
Damian: “Yes… I warned everyone a decade ago that you were a cancer to this company, that you would do whatever you could to infect it. They vilified me and demonized me and here you are proving me right. If they only knew what I knew a decade ago, you would be nothing more than a cautionary tale… a miserable cripple left trying desperately to hang on to your one remaining thread of relevancy… instead of a former star who is actually trying to desperately hang on to your one remaining thread of relevancy.”
CHBK smirks, then laughs.
CHBK: “That’s your problem, Damian. You only ever think in absolutes. You don’t see the world for what it is. You see it as good and evil and now, you are seeing your own stock diminish because there is a Big Bad that isn’t you. You’re not the one who people are concerned about. You’re not going to cause a ripple in SCW. But me? I bring tsunamis! What I say matters. That is something you’ll never experience again.”
Damian: “I could strike you down where you stand.”
CHBK: “And join Blake Mason in the unemployment line. Face it… your time of relevancy is over. I’m ashamed to have been associated with you once… to be seen on your level. No… to have you seen on my level. Enjoy obscurity, Damian.”
CHBK walks off, chuckling. As he does this, Damian can only muster a scowl. The scene shifts…
----------
Footsteps… hastened sounds approaching the darkened room. On the inside, the subject yells obscenities, illegible rantings of a lunatic. The two people, who’s uneven steps had hastened them to the scene, arrive at the door, stopping. A key slide into the door and the light fires up. They enter without a word, and the larger of two men tackle Damian to the ground. The smaller moves in behind with a sedative, sticking it out forward into the subject…
----------
“People think me a monster… but I am no monster, oh no. I am merely ahead of the curve.”
Damian Angel smiles to himself, an eerie, twisted visage of happiness that is unsettling upon such a scarred face.
“It has been a long time, has it not? The last time you saw me in any sort of capacity, I was speaking to you on camera on SCW Breakdown. Before that, it was in the confines of a steel cage, protecting you from me, but not protecting Donovan Kayl from me. Although he won the match, I assure you he has been broken. That was my doing. The Cornerstone will never admit to it, but he will never be the same again. Pay attention for it.”
Damian laughs.
“And really, that is what this is about, is it not? You want for me to be a monster. You need justification to do me harm… to treat me as though I am lesser because you do not understand me or my motivations. You think that I am a madman… that this is more than a role that I play on television. Well maybe I am. Maybe I am everything that you have been warned about. Maybe I am liable to snap on a moments notice. Maybe when that happens, I shall leave some poor soul at my feet, neck broken in multiple places, as I am finally carted off, your safety guaranteed. Maybe I am truly mad. Or maybe…”
He stops laughing, and his face straightens.
“Maybe there is more to me than what you see. Maybe you believe me a monster because that is all I allow you to believe, because everything else that I have within me is weakness that is festering, is rotted through to the core. Maybe you are not the ones in control. You wish to portray yourself as such, to the point that you have sought to replace me, but I assure you there is no replacement for The Devil Himself.
Casterillo is going to learn that very painful lesson soon enough.”
Damian begins to lick his lips.
“I know you have great plans for Casterillo. You wish for him to be a force to be reckoned with. You wish for him to take a position that I had once occupied. You expect me to acquiesce my position to another “like me” without being able to comprehend that there are none like me. You wish me replaceable, but I am not, and I am insulted by the implication that you make. Tomorrow night I will make an example out of Casterillo. Tomorrow night, I will use Casterillo to remind you all of how dangerous I truly am. Tomorrow night, Casterillo falls at my feet and is driven STRAIGHT to HELL!”
The scene shifts…
----------
Voice 1: “Subject 667. Delusional. Potential psychosis. Violent tendencies. »
Voice 3: “Can you be more specific?”
The lights turn on, and Damian Angel can be seen sitting in a chair, chains shackling his wrists and ankles. A female doctor stands over him, looking, while one of the orderlies – the one who had previously issued a sedative – reads off a clipboard.
Orderly: “He thinks he’s a cult leader… and “The Devil Himself”.”
The Doctor walks around Damian, crouching down in front of him. Tilting her head, she taps his cheeks. Damian doesn’t awaken.
Doctor: “Hmm… schedule him in for a 2:30 electro-shock therapy.”
Orderly: “He’s still in the release program. Supreme Championship Wrestling pays a lot for us to cart him to the arenas and let him “compete”. Of course, he is never unsupervised…”
The orderly looks through the door, and three more workers pass by… Malphas, Behemoth, and Kali. The Doctor nods.
Orderly: “As far as he's aware, they're his “followers”, but they keep good tabs on him. He believes the illusion is real.”
Doctor: “Good to keep up appearances while keeping the public in the dark. I trust SCW pays well.”
Orderly: “And haven’t a clue as to our intentions.”
Doctor: “Good. Keep it that way.”
She smirks, looking at Damian.
Doctor: “A cult leader? Hah…”
The scene fades away.
Right… left… right… left… right… left…
Echoing down a hallway. The only light to be seen right now comes from the bottom of a door. The inside of the room is darkness, exactly the way its resident prefers, but not by the resident’s choice. The darkness is forced, much like the sound of the footsteps getting closer and louder.
Left… right… left… right…
A pair of voices are heard outside…
Voice 1: “Subject 667?”
Voice 2: “Heavily sedated. Has demonstrated violent tendencies with the doctor. Recommended shock therapy next, but if that fails to provide the necessary results, a lobotomy is not out of the question.”
Voice 1: “Such a shame… he had such potential too…”
The footsteps continue down the hall… left… right… left… right… but the volume slowly decreases until all that remains are distant echoes. The scene shifts…
----------
DAMIAN ANGEL
in ‘The Big Bad’
It’s SCW Breakdown, and Damian Angel has just spoken his mind. Har Megiddo, his hit squad, have departed for the night. Damian sits alone in the shadows waiting. Watching.
Wondering.
Damian: “I knew you would be the last to leave, Alex.”
CHBK, Alex Desoubrais, walks past, stopping at the sound of his name as Damian slinks out of the shadows. He stands in front of The Devil Himself, but he only grins, because what he sees in front of him is not his bitter rival, the man who once broke his back only to fall to him 12 months later. He sees an ineffective villain… a man who sought to run “The Cornerstone” from the industry, only to fail.
Damian has had his taste of failure.
CHBK: “Hello, Damian.”
Damian: ““Hello, Damian.””
CHBK: “I’m neither in the mood nor the necessary position to play games with you. I don’t know if you’ve noticed from the shadows, Damian, but you’re not exactly a pressing concern for me.”
Damian: “Not a pressing concern… Alex, I should always be a pressing concern for you. All it takes is a snap of my fingers and my monsters will be able to step out and utterly decimate you. Break you. Destroy you!”
CHBK: “Your monster?”
He laughs.
CHBK: “Your monsters have proven to be as ineffectual as you have, Damian. There was a time when you thought you had broken me. There was a time when I thought you had broken me. But the thing is legends don’t die, Damian. We survive. WE thrive. We adapt to changing surroundings. And look at this… while you just had your first appearance on television since November, I have been instrumental in changing the very fabric with which this company is woven. You are satisfied playing small ball with Donovan Kayl…”
Damian cringes, still suffering the effects of the steel cage match with the Cornerstone a month ago.
CHBK: “While I am guiding the future of the industry into her rightful chair.”
Damian: “Yes… I warned everyone a decade ago that you were a cancer to this company, that you would do whatever you could to infect it. They vilified me and demonized me and here you are proving me right. If they only knew what I knew a decade ago, you would be nothing more than a cautionary tale… a miserable cripple left trying desperately to hang on to your one remaining thread of relevancy… instead of a former star who is actually trying to desperately hang on to your one remaining thread of relevancy.”
CHBK smirks, then laughs.
CHBK: “That’s your problem, Damian. You only ever think in absolutes. You don’t see the world for what it is. You see it as good and evil and now, you are seeing your own stock diminish because there is a Big Bad that isn’t you. You’re not the one who people are concerned about. You’re not going to cause a ripple in SCW. But me? I bring tsunamis! What I say matters. That is something you’ll never experience again.”
Damian: “I could strike you down where you stand.”
CHBK: “And join Blake Mason in the unemployment line. Face it… your time of relevancy is over. I’m ashamed to have been associated with you once… to be seen on your level. No… to have you seen on my level. Enjoy obscurity, Damian.”
CHBK walks off, chuckling. As he does this, Damian can only muster a scowl. The scene shifts…
----------
Footsteps… hastened sounds approaching the darkened room. On the inside, the subject yells obscenities, illegible rantings of a lunatic. The two people, who’s uneven steps had hastened them to the scene, arrive at the door, stopping. A key slide into the door and the light fires up. They enter without a word, and the larger of two men tackle Damian to the ground. The smaller moves in behind with a sedative, sticking it out forward into the subject…
----------
“People think me a monster… but I am no monster, oh no. I am merely ahead of the curve.”
Damian Angel smiles to himself, an eerie, twisted visage of happiness that is unsettling upon such a scarred face.
“It has been a long time, has it not? The last time you saw me in any sort of capacity, I was speaking to you on camera on SCW Breakdown. Before that, it was in the confines of a steel cage, protecting you from me, but not protecting Donovan Kayl from me. Although he won the match, I assure you he has been broken. That was my doing. The Cornerstone will never admit to it, but he will never be the same again. Pay attention for it.”
Damian laughs.
“And really, that is what this is about, is it not? You want for me to be a monster. You need justification to do me harm… to treat me as though I am lesser because you do not understand me or my motivations. You think that I am a madman… that this is more than a role that I play on television. Well maybe I am. Maybe I am everything that you have been warned about. Maybe I am liable to snap on a moments notice. Maybe when that happens, I shall leave some poor soul at my feet, neck broken in multiple places, as I am finally carted off, your safety guaranteed. Maybe I am truly mad. Or maybe…”
He stops laughing, and his face straightens.
“Maybe there is more to me than what you see. Maybe you believe me a monster because that is all I allow you to believe, because everything else that I have within me is weakness that is festering, is rotted through to the core. Maybe you are not the ones in control. You wish to portray yourself as such, to the point that you have sought to replace me, but I assure you there is no replacement for The Devil Himself.
Casterillo is going to learn that very painful lesson soon enough.”
Damian begins to lick his lips.
“I know you have great plans for Casterillo. You wish for him to be a force to be reckoned with. You wish for him to take a position that I had once occupied. You expect me to acquiesce my position to another “like me” without being able to comprehend that there are none like me. You wish me replaceable, but I am not, and I am insulted by the implication that you make. Tomorrow night I will make an example out of Casterillo. Tomorrow night, I will use Casterillo to remind you all of how dangerous I truly am. Tomorrow night, Casterillo falls at my feet and is driven STRAIGHT to HELL!”
The scene shifts…
----------
Voice 1: “Subject 667. Delusional. Potential psychosis. Violent tendencies. »
Voice 3: “Can you be more specific?”
The lights turn on, and Damian Angel can be seen sitting in a chair, chains shackling his wrists and ankles. A female doctor stands over him, looking, while one of the orderlies – the one who had previously issued a sedative – reads off a clipboard.
Orderly: “He thinks he’s a cult leader… and “The Devil Himself”.”
The Doctor walks around Damian, crouching down in front of him. Tilting her head, she taps his cheeks. Damian doesn’t awaken.
Doctor: “Hmm… schedule him in for a 2:30 electro-shock therapy.”
Orderly: “He’s still in the release program. Supreme Championship Wrestling pays a lot for us to cart him to the arenas and let him “compete”. Of course, he is never unsupervised…”
The orderly looks through the door, and three more workers pass by… Malphas, Behemoth, and Kali. The Doctor nods.
Orderly: “As far as he's aware, they're his “followers”, but they keep good tabs on him. He believes the illusion is real.”
Doctor: “Good to keep up appearances while keeping the public in the dark. I trust SCW pays well.”
Orderly: “And haven’t a clue as to our intentions.”
Doctor: “Good. Keep it that way.”
She smirks, looking at Damian.
Doctor: “A cult leader? Hah…”
The scene fades away.