03-03-2024, 12:39 PM
Emerging from the Shadows Part II
In the dimly lit chamber, Elias Veil stood face to face with the figure he had longed to find yet dreaded to confront—his father. The air crackled with tension, the silence heavy with unspoken words and the weight of centuries-old secrets.
Elias's gaze bore into his father's, searching for answers, for a flicker of recognition in the eyes that mirrored his own. But all he found was a cold indifference, a mask of detachment that sent a shiver down his spine.
"You..." Elias's voice faltered, choked by the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. "You left us. You abandoned us to the darkness."
His father's expression remained impassive, his features cast in shadow as if to shield himself from the accusations hurled his way. "I had my reasons, Elias," he replied, his voice devoid of remorse. "Reasons you couldn't possibly understand."
The words hung between them like a gulf, widening with each passing moment until it seemed insurmountable. Elias felt a surge of anger rise within him, hot and fierce, fueled by years of longing and resentment.
"You owe us an explanation," Elias demanded, his voice tinged with desperation. "I need to know why you left, why you chose the darkness over your own family."
His father's gaze softened, if only for a fleeting moment, a hint of sorrow flickering behind the veil of indifference. "There are things you cannot comprehend, Elias," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Things that would drive you to madness if you knew the truth."
But Elias was undeterred, his resolve hardened by the need for closure, for understanding. "I can handle the truth," he insisted, his voice tinged with defiance. "I deserve to know."
With a heavy sigh, Elias's father relented, his features drawn with resignation as he prepared to unveil the secrets that had long haunted their family. "Very well," he said, his voice laden with sorrow. "But know this, Elias—the truth comes with a price, one that we may not be prepared to pay."
And with that ominous warning hanging in the air, Elias and his father prepared to embark on a journey into the heart of darkness, where the shadows held secrets that could shatter their very souls.
As Elias and his father stood in the chamber, a heavy silence hung between them, laden with unspoken tension and the weight of years of estrangement. The flickering torchlight cast dancing shadows across the walls, accentuating the solemnity of the moment.
Elias's gaze bore into his father, searching for answers amidst the darkness that shrouded them both. Yet, the man before him remained an enigma, his features obscured by the shadows, his intentions inscrutable.
"What is the meaning of this?" Elias demanded, his voice echoing in the chamber, tinged with frustration and apprehension. "Why have you brought me here?"
His father's response was slow, deliberate, each word weighted with significance. "We stand on the threshold of a momentous occasion, Elias," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "A ritual that has been passed down through generations—a ritual that will unlock the true power of Thornbrooke's legacy."
Elias's brow furrowed in confusion, his mind racing with questions and doubts. He had long yearned for his father's guidance, yet now that they stood face to face, he found himself recoiling from the man before him, a stranger shrouded in darkness.
"And what of your role in all of this?" Elias pressed, his voice laced with skepticism. "Are you the orchestrator of this madness, or merely a pawn in someone else's game?"
His father's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and hurt, his jaw clenched in frustration. "Do not presume to know the depths of my intentions, Elias," he growled, his voice tinged with a hint of menace. "You may have spent years wandering in search of the truth, but you have yet to grasp the magnitude of what is at stake."
With a heavy sigh, Elias realized that his father held the key to unlocking the mysteries that had plagued Thornbrooke for centuries. Yet, the rift between them seemed wider than ever, a gaping chasm that threatened to swallow them whole.
But as the blood moon cast its crimson glow upon the chamber, Elias knew that he had no choice but to confront the darkness that lurked within—both within himself and within his father. For only by facing the truth head-on could he hope to uncover the secrets of Thornbrooke's legacy and reclaim his family's honor.
In the eerie stillness of the chamber, the tension between father and son seemed to thicken, suffocating them in its oppressive grip. The air hummed with a palpable energy, as if the very walls themselves were alive with anticipation of the ritual to come.
As Elias's father stepped forward, his movements deliberate and purposeful, Elias couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him from within. Despite the years of longing for his father's presence, the reality of their reunion was far from the joyful reconciliation he had imagined.
"We must begin," his father intoned, his voice echoing off the stone walls with an eerie resonance. "The blood moon approaches, and with it, the culmination of our destiny."
Elias hesitated, his gaze locked with his father's, searching for any sign of the man he once knew buried beneath the cloak of darkness. But all he found was an abyss—an emptiness that mirrored the shadows that enveloped them both.
With a reluctant nod, Elias resigned himself to the inevitable, knowing that there was no turning back now. The legacy of Thornbrooke demanded his presence, and he would be remiss to deny the call of destiny, no matter how foreboding its embrace.
Together, father and son moved towards the center of the chamber, where an ancient altar awaited them, its stone surface etched with symbols of power and sacrifice. As the blood moon cast its crimson light through the chamber's windows, bathing everything in its eerie glow, Elias felt a chill run down his spine—a premonition of the darkness that awaited them.
With trembling hands, Elias's father produced a gleaming dagger from beneath his cloak, its blade glinting in the moonlight like a beacon of doom. Without a word, he handed the dagger to Elias, his eyes burning with a fervent intensity that sent a shiver down Elias's spine.
"This is our destiny, Elias," his father whispered, his voice a haunting echo in the chamber's depths. "Embrace it, for the fate of Thornbrooke hangs in the balance."
And with that, Elias knew that there was no turning back. With the weight of Thornbrooke's legacy heavy upon his shoulders, he took the dagger in hand, steeling himself for the ritual to come—a ritual that would test the very limits of his resolve and plunge him into the heart of darkness itself.
As Elias gripped the dagger, a surge of conflicting emotions coursed through him—fear, uncertainty, and a lingering sense of betrayal intertwined with a flicker of determination. He couldn't deny the gravity of the moment, nor the weight of the legacy he was about to inherit.
With a steady hand, Elias approached the ancient altar, each step echoing in the chamber like a solemn drumbeat marking the rhythm of destiny. The stone beneath his feet felt cold and unyielding, a stark reminder of the path he had chosen to walk.
With the ritual complete, Elias Veil stood amidst the remnants of the ancient chamber, his body pulsating with newfound power and purpose. The darkness that had once loomed over Thornbrooke now coursed through his veins, a potent force that bound him to the shadows and the secrets they held.
His father watched with a mixture of awe and trepidation, the weight of their shared legacy hanging heavy in the air. For Elias, the ritual had been a crucible, a trial by fire that had forged him into something beyond human—an enigma wrapped in darkness, a guardian of the village's darkest truths.
As the blood moon waned, casting its final, lingering rays upon the chamber, Elias turned to his father, his gaze unwavering. "We are bound by more than blood now," he declared, his voice resonating with a newfound authority. "We are bound by destiny, by the secrets that have shaped our family for generations."
His father nodded solemnly, his expression a mask of resignation mingled with a glimmer of pride. "Thornbrooke is in your hands now, Elias," he said, his voice heavy with the weight of his words. "Guard its secrets well, for they are both its salvation and its curse."
With a final, lingering glance at the chamber that had forever altered the course of his life, Elias Veil stepped into the moonlit night, his heart heavy with the knowledge of the trials that lay ahead. But amidst the darkness, he found solace in the newfound strength that pulsed within him, a strength born from sacrifice, from revelation, and from the unyielding resolve to confront the shadows that lurked within Thornbrooke's heart.
And as Elias disappeared into the night, the echoes of the blood moon ritual lingered in the air, a haunting reminder of the darkness that now dwelled within the heart of the forsaken village—and the enigmatic figure who had embraced it as his own.
As he reached the altar, Elias's father stepped back, his gaze fixed on his son with a mixture of pride and apprehension. It was a silent acknowledgment of the burden Elias now carried—a burden that transcended the confines of their fractured relationship and bound them together in the face of their shared destiny.
With a deep breath, Elias raised the dagger high above his head, its blade shimmering in the blood moon's light. His heart thundered in his chest, each beat a steady cadence driving him forward into the unknown.
As the ritual began, Elias closed his eyes and uttered the ancient incantations passed down through generations of Veils. The words felt foreign on his tongue, yet somehow familiar, as if they were etched into the very fabric of his being.
With each invocation, the chamber seemed to tremble, the air thick with the promise of power and the specter of darkness. Shadows danced along the walls, their movements mirroring Elias's own as he surrendered himself to the ritual's embrace.
And then, with a single, decisive motion, Elias plunged the dagger into his own flesh, its blade biting deep into his skin with a searing pain that cut through the haze of the ritual. A crimson tide spilled forth, mingling with the moonlight in a grotesque tableau of sacrifice and rebirth.
As Elias's blood mingled with the ancient stone of the altar, a surge of raw energy pulsed through him, suffusing every fiber of his being with an otherworldly power. In that moment of agony and ecstasy, Elias embraced his destiny, his transformation complete as he embraced the darkness that had long haunted his bloodline.
And as the blood moon reached its zenith, casting its baleful gaze upon Thornbrooke, Elias Veil emerged from the chamber forever changed—a vessel of darkness, a guardian of secrets, and the harbinger of a new era for the forsaken village.
In the chamber where shadows danced in macabre patterns, where ancient secrets whispered on the wind, the Enigma stood as a sentinel of darkness. The same chamber that had witnessed Elias Veil's transformation now bore witness to the enigmatic figure's dominion.
As he gazed upon the arcane symbols etched into the walls, a sense of familiarity washed over him—a distant echo of a past he had long since left behind. The memories of Elias Veil lingered like ghosts in the shadows, a reminder of the journey that had led him to this moment.
But the Enigma was no longer bound by the shackles of his former self. He had transcended the limitations of mortality, embracing the darkness that flowed through Thornbrooke's veins as his own. And in this chamber, where the blood moon had cast its sinister glow, he found solace in the knowledge that he had become something far greater than the man he once was.
With a sense of purpose burning in his soul, the Enigma raised his gaze to the heavens, the shadows swirling around him like tendrils of smoke. In this chamber of secrets, he would lay claim to his destiny, forging a path of darkness that would shake the very foundations of Thornbrooke and beyond.
In the chamber where shadows writhed like living entities, the Enigma's voice emerged with a chilling clarity, slicing through the oppressive silence like a blade of obsidian. Each word resonated with an eerie authority, commanding attention from all who dared to listen.
"Chris Dumont," he intoned, his voice carrying a sinister weight that seemed to echo off the ancient walls. "Body, Heart, and Soul. Know that you stand before the SCW Television Champion, a master of shadows and the harbinger of doom."
As the words hung in the air, a palpable sense of menace emanated from the Enigma, his presence casting a long shadow over the chamber. In the dim light, his figure seemed to blur with the darkness, a spectral apparition that embodied the very essence of fear and uncertainty.
"And know this," his voice dropped to a sinister growl, each word dripping with ominous intent. "Your defiance will be met with swift and merciless retribution. In the realm of darkness, there is no escape, no reprieve. Only the eternal embrace of oblivion awaits those who dare to challenge me."
As the Enigma spoke, his words seemed to echo off the chamber walls, reverberating with an unsettling finality. The shadows danced around him, as if stirred by the dark energy of his proclamation, amplifying the ominous atmosphere that enveloped the chamber.
"Sunday night, you face not only me but the full force of the darkness that resides within Thornbrooke," he proclaimed, his voice resonating off the ancient stone walls with a chilling finality. Each word seemed to carry the weight of centuries-old secrets, reverberating through the chamber like an ominous prelude to doom. "Prepare yourselves for the reckoning that awaits, for in the realm of shadows, there is no escape, no reprieve."
His declaration hung heavy in the air, suffusing the chamber with an oppressive sense of foreboding. The darkness seemed to draw closer, embracing the Enigma like a sinister cloak, amplifying the malevolent aura that surrounded him.
With his message delivered, the Enigma turned to his disciples, a silent command passing between them as they prepared to embark on their journey into the heart of darkness. "Prepare yourselves," he whispered, his voice a chilling echo in the chamber, "for the hour of Retribution is at hand."
Together, they stood united, a formidable force ready to confront whatever challenges awaited them. The Enigma's gaze flickered with an otherworldly intensity, a silent warning to their adversaries that they were not to be trifled with.
"Chris Dumont, Body, Heart, and Soul," he intoned, his words carrying the weight of inevitability. "Know that the Enigma and the European Fiery Nation stand ready for whatever you may bring. Tonight, the shadows shall be our allies, and the darkness our shield. May Retribution be swift and merciless."
With that, the Enigma and his disciples vanished into the darkness, leaving behind only the haunting echo of their presence—a harbinger of the trials to come.
In the dimly lit chamber, Elias Veil stood face to face with the figure he had longed to find yet dreaded to confront—his father. The air crackled with tension, the silence heavy with unspoken words and the weight of centuries-old secrets.
Elias's gaze bore into his father's, searching for answers, for a flicker of recognition in the eyes that mirrored his own. But all he found was a cold indifference, a mask of detachment that sent a shiver down his spine.
"You..." Elias's voice faltered, choked by the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. "You left us. You abandoned us to the darkness."
His father's expression remained impassive, his features cast in shadow as if to shield himself from the accusations hurled his way. "I had my reasons, Elias," he replied, his voice devoid of remorse. "Reasons you couldn't possibly understand."
The words hung between them like a gulf, widening with each passing moment until it seemed insurmountable. Elias felt a surge of anger rise within him, hot and fierce, fueled by years of longing and resentment.
"You owe us an explanation," Elias demanded, his voice tinged with desperation. "I need to know why you left, why you chose the darkness over your own family."
His father's gaze softened, if only for a fleeting moment, a hint of sorrow flickering behind the veil of indifference. "There are things you cannot comprehend, Elias," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Things that would drive you to madness if you knew the truth."
But Elias was undeterred, his resolve hardened by the need for closure, for understanding. "I can handle the truth," he insisted, his voice tinged with defiance. "I deserve to know."
With a heavy sigh, Elias's father relented, his features drawn with resignation as he prepared to unveil the secrets that had long haunted their family. "Very well," he said, his voice laden with sorrow. "But know this, Elias—the truth comes with a price, one that we may not be prepared to pay."
And with that ominous warning hanging in the air, Elias and his father prepared to embark on a journey into the heart of darkness, where the shadows held secrets that could shatter their very souls.
As Elias and his father stood in the chamber, a heavy silence hung between them, laden with unspoken tension and the weight of years of estrangement. The flickering torchlight cast dancing shadows across the walls, accentuating the solemnity of the moment.
Elias's gaze bore into his father, searching for answers amidst the darkness that shrouded them both. Yet, the man before him remained an enigma, his features obscured by the shadows, his intentions inscrutable.
"What is the meaning of this?" Elias demanded, his voice echoing in the chamber, tinged with frustration and apprehension. "Why have you brought me here?"
His father's response was slow, deliberate, each word weighted with significance. "We stand on the threshold of a momentous occasion, Elias," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "A ritual that has been passed down through generations—a ritual that will unlock the true power of Thornbrooke's legacy."
Elias's brow furrowed in confusion, his mind racing with questions and doubts. He had long yearned for his father's guidance, yet now that they stood face to face, he found himself recoiling from the man before him, a stranger shrouded in darkness.
"And what of your role in all of this?" Elias pressed, his voice laced with skepticism. "Are you the orchestrator of this madness, or merely a pawn in someone else's game?"
His father's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and hurt, his jaw clenched in frustration. "Do not presume to know the depths of my intentions, Elias," he growled, his voice tinged with a hint of menace. "You may have spent years wandering in search of the truth, but you have yet to grasp the magnitude of what is at stake."
With a heavy sigh, Elias realized that his father held the key to unlocking the mysteries that had plagued Thornbrooke for centuries. Yet, the rift between them seemed wider than ever, a gaping chasm that threatened to swallow them whole.
But as the blood moon cast its crimson glow upon the chamber, Elias knew that he had no choice but to confront the darkness that lurked within—both within himself and within his father. For only by facing the truth head-on could he hope to uncover the secrets of Thornbrooke's legacy and reclaim his family's honor.
In the eerie stillness of the chamber, the tension between father and son seemed to thicken, suffocating them in its oppressive grip. The air hummed with a palpable energy, as if the very walls themselves were alive with anticipation of the ritual to come.
As Elias's father stepped forward, his movements deliberate and purposeful, Elias couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him from within. Despite the years of longing for his father's presence, the reality of their reunion was far from the joyful reconciliation he had imagined.
"We must begin," his father intoned, his voice echoing off the stone walls with an eerie resonance. "The blood moon approaches, and with it, the culmination of our destiny."
Elias hesitated, his gaze locked with his father's, searching for any sign of the man he once knew buried beneath the cloak of darkness. But all he found was an abyss—an emptiness that mirrored the shadows that enveloped them both.
With a reluctant nod, Elias resigned himself to the inevitable, knowing that there was no turning back now. The legacy of Thornbrooke demanded his presence, and he would be remiss to deny the call of destiny, no matter how foreboding its embrace.
Together, father and son moved towards the center of the chamber, where an ancient altar awaited them, its stone surface etched with symbols of power and sacrifice. As the blood moon cast its crimson light through the chamber's windows, bathing everything in its eerie glow, Elias felt a chill run down his spine—a premonition of the darkness that awaited them.
With trembling hands, Elias's father produced a gleaming dagger from beneath his cloak, its blade glinting in the moonlight like a beacon of doom. Without a word, he handed the dagger to Elias, his eyes burning with a fervent intensity that sent a shiver down Elias's spine.
"This is our destiny, Elias," his father whispered, his voice a haunting echo in the chamber's depths. "Embrace it, for the fate of Thornbrooke hangs in the balance."
And with that, Elias knew that there was no turning back. With the weight of Thornbrooke's legacy heavy upon his shoulders, he took the dagger in hand, steeling himself for the ritual to come—a ritual that would test the very limits of his resolve and plunge him into the heart of darkness itself.
As Elias gripped the dagger, a surge of conflicting emotions coursed through him—fear, uncertainty, and a lingering sense of betrayal intertwined with a flicker of determination. He couldn't deny the gravity of the moment, nor the weight of the legacy he was about to inherit.
With a steady hand, Elias approached the ancient altar, each step echoing in the chamber like a solemn drumbeat marking the rhythm of destiny. The stone beneath his feet felt cold and unyielding, a stark reminder of the path he had chosen to walk.
With the ritual complete, Elias Veil stood amidst the remnants of the ancient chamber, his body pulsating with newfound power and purpose. The darkness that had once loomed over Thornbrooke now coursed through his veins, a potent force that bound him to the shadows and the secrets they held.
His father watched with a mixture of awe and trepidation, the weight of their shared legacy hanging heavy in the air. For Elias, the ritual had been a crucible, a trial by fire that had forged him into something beyond human—an enigma wrapped in darkness, a guardian of the village's darkest truths.
As the blood moon waned, casting its final, lingering rays upon the chamber, Elias turned to his father, his gaze unwavering. "We are bound by more than blood now," he declared, his voice resonating with a newfound authority. "We are bound by destiny, by the secrets that have shaped our family for generations."
His father nodded solemnly, his expression a mask of resignation mingled with a glimmer of pride. "Thornbrooke is in your hands now, Elias," he said, his voice heavy with the weight of his words. "Guard its secrets well, for they are both its salvation and its curse."
With a final, lingering glance at the chamber that had forever altered the course of his life, Elias Veil stepped into the moonlit night, his heart heavy with the knowledge of the trials that lay ahead. But amidst the darkness, he found solace in the newfound strength that pulsed within him, a strength born from sacrifice, from revelation, and from the unyielding resolve to confront the shadows that lurked within Thornbrooke's heart.
And as Elias disappeared into the night, the echoes of the blood moon ritual lingered in the air, a haunting reminder of the darkness that now dwelled within the heart of the forsaken village—and the enigmatic figure who had embraced it as his own.
As he reached the altar, Elias's father stepped back, his gaze fixed on his son with a mixture of pride and apprehension. It was a silent acknowledgment of the burden Elias now carried—a burden that transcended the confines of their fractured relationship and bound them together in the face of their shared destiny.
With a deep breath, Elias raised the dagger high above his head, its blade shimmering in the blood moon's light. His heart thundered in his chest, each beat a steady cadence driving him forward into the unknown.
As the ritual began, Elias closed his eyes and uttered the ancient incantations passed down through generations of Veils. The words felt foreign on his tongue, yet somehow familiar, as if they were etched into the very fabric of his being.
With each invocation, the chamber seemed to tremble, the air thick with the promise of power and the specter of darkness. Shadows danced along the walls, their movements mirroring Elias's own as he surrendered himself to the ritual's embrace.
And then, with a single, decisive motion, Elias plunged the dagger into his own flesh, its blade biting deep into his skin with a searing pain that cut through the haze of the ritual. A crimson tide spilled forth, mingling with the moonlight in a grotesque tableau of sacrifice and rebirth.
As Elias's blood mingled with the ancient stone of the altar, a surge of raw energy pulsed through him, suffusing every fiber of his being with an otherworldly power. In that moment of agony and ecstasy, Elias embraced his destiny, his transformation complete as he embraced the darkness that had long haunted his bloodline.
And as the blood moon reached its zenith, casting its baleful gaze upon Thornbrooke, Elias Veil emerged from the chamber forever changed—a vessel of darkness, a guardian of secrets, and the harbinger of a new era for the forsaken village.
In the chamber where shadows danced in macabre patterns, where ancient secrets whispered on the wind, the Enigma stood as a sentinel of darkness. The same chamber that had witnessed Elias Veil's transformation now bore witness to the enigmatic figure's dominion.
As he gazed upon the arcane symbols etched into the walls, a sense of familiarity washed over him—a distant echo of a past he had long since left behind. The memories of Elias Veil lingered like ghosts in the shadows, a reminder of the journey that had led him to this moment.
But the Enigma was no longer bound by the shackles of his former self. He had transcended the limitations of mortality, embracing the darkness that flowed through Thornbrooke's veins as his own. And in this chamber, where the blood moon had cast its sinister glow, he found solace in the knowledge that he had become something far greater than the man he once was.
With a sense of purpose burning in his soul, the Enigma raised his gaze to the heavens, the shadows swirling around him like tendrils of smoke. In this chamber of secrets, he would lay claim to his destiny, forging a path of darkness that would shake the very foundations of Thornbrooke and beyond.
In the chamber where shadows writhed like living entities, the Enigma's voice emerged with a chilling clarity, slicing through the oppressive silence like a blade of obsidian. Each word resonated with an eerie authority, commanding attention from all who dared to listen.
"Chris Dumont," he intoned, his voice carrying a sinister weight that seemed to echo off the ancient walls. "Body, Heart, and Soul. Know that you stand before the SCW Television Champion, a master of shadows and the harbinger of doom."
As the words hung in the air, a palpable sense of menace emanated from the Enigma, his presence casting a long shadow over the chamber. In the dim light, his figure seemed to blur with the darkness, a spectral apparition that embodied the very essence of fear and uncertainty.
"And know this," his voice dropped to a sinister growl, each word dripping with ominous intent. "Your defiance will be met with swift and merciless retribution. In the realm of darkness, there is no escape, no reprieve. Only the eternal embrace of oblivion awaits those who dare to challenge me."
As the Enigma spoke, his words seemed to echo off the chamber walls, reverberating with an unsettling finality. The shadows danced around him, as if stirred by the dark energy of his proclamation, amplifying the ominous atmosphere that enveloped the chamber.
"Sunday night, you face not only me but the full force of the darkness that resides within Thornbrooke," he proclaimed, his voice resonating off the ancient stone walls with a chilling finality. Each word seemed to carry the weight of centuries-old secrets, reverberating through the chamber like an ominous prelude to doom. "Prepare yourselves for the reckoning that awaits, for in the realm of shadows, there is no escape, no reprieve."
His declaration hung heavy in the air, suffusing the chamber with an oppressive sense of foreboding. The darkness seemed to draw closer, embracing the Enigma like a sinister cloak, amplifying the malevolent aura that surrounded him.
With his message delivered, the Enigma turned to his disciples, a silent command passing between them as they prepared to embark on their journey into the heart of darkness. "Prepare yourselves," he whispered, his voice a chilling echo in the chamber, "for the hour of Retribution is at hand."
Together, they stood united, a formidable force ready to confront whatever challenges awaited them. The Enigma's gaze flickered with an otherworldly intensity, a silent warning to their adversaries that they were not to be trifled with.
"Chris Dumont, Body, Heart, and Soul," he intoned, his words carrying the weight of inevitability. "Know that the Enigma and the European Fiery Nation stand ready for whatever you may bring. Tonight, the shadows shall be our allies, and the darkness our shield. May Retribution be swift and merciless."
With that, the Enigma and his disciples vanished into the darkness, leaving behind only the haunting echo of their presence—a harbinger of the trials to come.
SCW Record
8-2
Current SCW Television Champion
8-2
Current SCW Television Champion