07-25-2025, 12:05 PM
2 of 3
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July 7th, 2025
London, England
Off Camera
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The rusted gates of the Braddock Wrestling School creaked open. Even now, years after Melinda Braddock graduated from these grounds and stepped into her own career, the sound stirred something complicated in her chest; half pride, half anxiety. The school wasn’t just where she’d trained to be a wrestler. It was where she’d found a piece of her identity. Her grandfather Glenn Braddock left his mark everywhere within this facility. Later on, after his passing, Glenn’s daughter, Glory Braddock, would take over this facility and make it her own, though retaining much of the old Glenn Braddock charm. This place served as a reminder of discipline and her family legacy. This place, for all its grime and grit, had been sacred to the Braddock family. Which made walking back through these doors with Clyde Sutter at her side feel all that much more awkward.
Clyde towered beside her, as he always did. His long black hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, his deep-set eyes scanned the building’s facade with an unreadable expression. He used to train here too, but that was a lifetime ago and he was a very different man back then. He was a much darker and more dangerous person then. Back when he was all fire and fury and raw talent wrapped in a volatile package. Glory, Melinda’s mother, had seen promise in him. Clyde hit too hard, took things too far, fought like every sparring match was a street brawl. Eventually, after too many bruised ribs and one ugly incident that no one liked to talk about anymore, Glory Braddock had no choice but to kick him out. Clyde never came back. Not until now. But today is different. He is here on a mission.
Melinda glanced up at him as they stepped inside. He looked the same on the outside but she knew something had changed in him. He’d cleaned up, calmed down, started talking more about Fate and less about revenge. He still wrestled like a beast in the ring, but he’d learned to leash it. Control it. But no one at Braddock’s believed it. Not her aunt, not her mother, not the other trainers, not the current crop of students who had only heard the stories. Melinda hated that part most of all; the sideways glances, the tension in the air, the way people spoke to her like she was some naive girl falling for a reformed thug. They didn’t see the Clyde she saw. The Clyde who treated her like royalty, who would quite literally buy her anything she asked without a second thought. In fact, he would do anything she asked without a second thought and Melinda knew it. Clyde worshipped the ground she walked on. But that history wasn’t just going to vanish because she said he’d changed.
Melinda sighed. She could already hear the rhythmic sound of bodies hitting the canvas in the main gym. That familiar thud, followed by grunts and the occasional barked instruction, felt like home. She was proud to walk in here as a Braddock, proud of the work she’d put in, the legacy she carried. But she knew today wasn’t about her. To be perfectly honest, she isn’t even sure what today is all about. All she knows is that Clyde’s friend from Birmingham, England, Joey feels as if he is being stalked. First Joey felt he was being followed in Birmingham and so he fled to what he thought was the safety of the United States where Clyde let him stay in his apartment in Charlotte, North Carolina. But then that apartment was ransacked. Joey is scared half to death. Ordinarily Sutter would let Joey deal with this himself but not this time. Clyde is concerned that this may have little to nothing to do with Joey specifically and that it may cut closer to home.
“Are you going to be ok, babe?” Melinda asks with a note of concern in her voice. She recalls all too well the many incidents involving her boyfriend that ultimately led to him getting kicked out of the Braddock Wrestling School. The Assassin doesn’t seem too bothered. He simply nods his head, affirming that he is fine. For now.
“I may not have had the best of memories here but the honest truth is that most of this was my fault.” He looks side to side, scanning the room, taking note of the many stares he and Melinda are receiving. “Let them glare. Let them question me. Their doubts and criticism are justified. I beat up and hurt many individuals at this institution. I even roughed up a few trainers. All of it led to my removal.”
“My mom had something to do with it too.” Melinda says, rolling her eyes.
“She was right to do so.” Clyde remarks. “I was not a good man.”
“But you’ve changed.” Melinda insists. “And most of these people don’t know you the way I do. They just know your reputation. It isn’t fair to judge you off of your past.”
“Let them judge me.” He smiles warmly at Melinda. “The only judgment I care about is yours.”
“Fair enough.” She smirks. Braddock then twirls around, taking in the atmosphere, taking in these familiar surroundings. She grins from ear to ear, happy to have returned to her old stomping grounds. Sutter can’t help but chuckle.
“I take it you are pleased to be back?”
“Damn right.” Melinda says. “Hell, while we’re here maybe you can get a good workout in? Train for Rise To Greatness? This will be OUR first Rise To Greatness together, as a couple, as a united force within SCW!” Melinda is swooning as Clyde runs a hand through her long blonde hair.
“As lovely as that sounds, my love, we are not here for training purposes.”
“Right, right, I forgot,” she sighs “this has something to do with your pal Joey.”
“Correct.”
“Ok, then try and make this make sense, babe.” Melinda says. “If we are trying to help Joey, if we’re trying to find out who is stalking that guy, what are we doing at my family’s wrestling school? Joey is a street thug. He has no ties to professional wrestling except for the fact that he is YOUR friend.”
“And that very well could be the problem.”
“Huh?”
That answer did not help matters for Melinda. It only served to confuse her even further. The Third Generation Goddess opens her mouth to speak but Clyde motions for her to remain silent. The pair turn around in time to spot another imposing figure, almost as intimidating as Clyde himself, making his way over towards them. He is almost two decades older than Clyde but that doesn’t make him any more intimidating. This figure, wearing simply black gym shorts, black lace up wrestling boots, and a faded gray t-shirt is Mark O’Brian.
Mark O’Brian grew up as one of Glory Braddock’s closest friends. They were so close that Melinda considers him like an uncle and Mark is as protective of Melinda as an uncle would be towards his niece. More importantly, Mark is one of the trainers here at the Glenn Braddock Wrestling School and he is not very pleased with the arrival of Clyde Sutter. Why would he be happy? After all, Mark was the trainer Clyde beat up once upon a time.
“Mark!” Melinda tries to lighten the mood by rushing up to greet Mark with a big warm embrace. Clyde remains perfectly still for a moment while the two have their reunion, watching from afar. Upon breaking the hug Melinda looks up at Mark, smiling broadly.
“Great to see ya again, Mel. What brings you back here?”
“Oh you know me! I’m always keeping in shape! Between MWCW, MWE, GCW, and, of course, Supreme Championship Wrestling, everyone wants a piece of The Third Generation Goddess!”
“Yeah, you are doing well for yourself.” Mark smiles. He then looks back up at Clyde and snarls. “You know, maybe you should go and talk to some of the newer students, huh? Or maybe my sister Sophie?”
“Right.” Melinda rolls her eyes. “Just be nice to him, Mark.”
“I make no promises.”
Melinda walks off. With Melinda making her exit to speak with some other students, Mark is now free to have his confrontation with The Assassin. Clyde smirks as Mark makes his way over. A low chuckle escapes Sutter’s lips.
“You heard her, Mr. O’Brian. Be nice.”
“I’ll be however I want around you!” Mark snaps, an angry tone in his voice. “Ya know, I get why she’d wanna come back and visit. This place is her legacy. It was her grandad’s, it is now her mom’s, someday it will be hers. She learned how to be a professional wrestler by going through the same workout routines and classes these kids are going through today.”
“And my beloved is quite the accomplished wrestler.” Clyde remarks. “You should be proud of yourself, Mr. O’Brian.”
“Damn right she is a good wrestler!” This is quite the contrast. Mark is the angry one and Clyde remains calm, cool, and collected during this confrontation. “And yeah, she has every right to be here.” Mark points a finger at Sutter. “But you? You have no right to be here!”
“Why not?”
“Where the hell do I begin?! You were a horrible student! You never listened to any criticism. You took it all as an offense to your name. You were too ruthless, too violent, and too aggressive. You hurt students. You hurt trainers.”
“I recall that was just one trainer I beat up.” Sutter smirks. “You.” Mark slaps Clyde across the face. Despite this slap, Clyde remains calm.
“Shut up! Point is that you were kicked out! You do not belong here! So tell me, why the hell are ya here?”
“Perhaps I am just accompanying my fiance on a visit?” Clyde suggests. “You said yourself, she does belong here.”
“Nah, Mel knows better than to bring you along. You’re here because you insisted to come. I just know it.”
“Well then, you are not as dull as your sister often claims.” Sutter chuckles. “You are correct; I insisted that Melinda and I both come for this visit. But I assure you, Mr. O’Brian, that I am not here to reminisce, confront you, or even try to convince you and the rest of the staff here at this fine institution that I have changed. I know that convincing you lot of anything would be an exercise in futility.”
“Then you’re wasting my time.” Mark points towards the door. “Get out!”
“No.” Clyde shakes his head. “I need your help.”
“You need my help?” Mark laughs. “Now that’s rich!”
“It’s true. I need some information that you can provide.” Clyde states. “Tell me what I want to know and I will leave.”
“You know what’s even funnier than you asking for my help? You THINKING that I would actually help you!” Mark shakes his head. “No way! I’m not helping ya!” Mark starts laughing hysterically, which does annoy Sutter to an extent.
“What about Melinda? Would you help her?” Instantly Mark’s laughing ceases. He arches a brow out of curiosity.
“The hell are you on about?!”
“I’m in trouble, Mr. O’Brian. I do not know much, just that someone is being stalked. Someone is being targeted by an obsessive criminal, a thug. For the longest time I thought my friend Joey was the target. His past is rather similar to mine and he did a…job for me that put him in danger.”
“Some friend.” Mark scoffs.
“Now I suspect that Joey might not be the target. Perhaps I might be the target?”
“Great!” Mark snickers. “Maybe I’ll finish off what’s left of ya!”
“Now who is the good friend?” Clyde sneers. “Mr. O’Brian, did it ever occur to you that if I am indeed the target that Melinda, my love and future wife, might be in danger as well?”
This brings another tense moment of silence between the two. Mark O’Brian definitely does not want to help Clyde Sutter in any way. As far as Mark is concerned, if Clyde got himself into any trouble, its his own fault. Still, he does not want harm to fall onto Melinda. She never asked for any of it. Mark sighs and nods his head.
“Fine…what the hell do ya want from me?”
“You keep records of the students who passed through these hallowed halls. Correct?”
“Yeah, so?”
“I did not spend much time here before I was unceremoniously removed.” Sutter remarks. “All I need is a list of the students who trained during the same time period as me.”
“That’s it?” Mark blinks, he is somewhat surprised. “That’s all I gotta give ya to get ya out of my hair?!”
“I tried telling you but you insisted upon beating your chest like some angry gorilla marking his turf.”
“I don’t know what the hell that means but I’m sure it was an insult!” Mark snaps angrily. “But anyway, just…just stay here! I’ll be back with your damn list!”
The Assassin smiles with a mixed sense of relief, victory, and also a hint of nervousness. He has an idea of what this list will tell him. These were students he trained with, he worked with, and many of whom he injured. But there was one student in particular who, like him, saw wrestling as a way to get away from life on the streets, to make a good, just living. Clyde did not care. He was still the rage fueled monster that had no compassion. Clyde hurt that particular student so badly he was unable to return to the school, unable to complete the training, and unable to fulfill his hopes of becoming a wrestler. Sutter just needs to remember that name. This list will provide it. Mark O’Brian returns with a document in hand. He hands it over to Clyde with an angry grunt.
“There’s what ya asked for. Now ya can’t keep it. Once you found what you were looking for, put it back in the office and then leave.”
“Of course.” Sutter nods his head. “Thank you again, Mr. O’Brian.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
Mark turns and walks off. Sutter quickly turns his attention to the list in front of him. He scans it up and down, looking for the name. He knows he will recognize the student and remember him when he sees the name.
Then he sees it. His memory returns.
“Callum Slater.” Sutter says in a hushed whisper.
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On Camera
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The camera begins to roll and we open deep in the heart of a grand, gothic chamber. There we find two figures standing poised and confident, almost imposing. The chamber is steeped in shadow and candlelight, every inch of the space breathing brooding mystique. Ancient stone arches loom in the background. The flickering glow of wall-mounted candelabras dances across the high, vaulted ceiling. The cold stone floor reflects the soft gold hues of the firelight, warming the otherwise somber surroundings with a touch of intimacy. The man on the left is Clyde Sutter; he exudes a quiet but undeniable intensity. Fate’s Chosen Assassin is powerfully built, his posture relaxed yet commanding His black suit is immaculate; sharply cut, tailored close to his frame, every seam and fold crisp as if it were pressed by darkness itself. The jacket hugs his broad shoulders and narrows at his waist, and beneath it, his shirt is also black, giving him a stark, monochrome appearance that enhances his formidable presence. His long jet black locks falls past his shoulders, perfectly straight. It frames his square jaw. His expression is unreadable but intense; brooding eyes peer forward beneath a furrowed brow.
Standing beside him is his confidant, his partner in crime; The Third Generation Goddess Melinda Braddock. Her golden-blonde hair falls in soft, sculpted waves over her shoulder, glistening like moonlight on water. It cascades perfectly, drawing the eye downward to the smooth line of her bare shoulders and the glittering gown she wears; a strapless, champagne-colored creation that hugs her slender frame like a second skin. The fabric is intricate, dusted with delicate beading and metallic threadwork that catches the candlelight and shimmers with each subtle movement she makes. Around her neck hangs a dainty necklace with a single teardrop diamond, perfectly centered and adding a touch of refinement to her already regal appearance.
“Fate does not hold grudges. Fate does not play favorites. Unlike flawed, mortal human beings, Fate has risen above that. Fate is better than that and that is why Fate dictates the cosmos and not humanity. That is why Fate is at the top of the food chain and not humanity. Humanity, you are all just puppets on a string. You dance when Fate tells you, you jump when Fate tells you, and when Fate dictates that your time is up…well…” Sutter chuckles nastily and shrugs his shoulders “...well, your time is up and your Fate is sealed; not because Fate held a grudge, not because Fate played favorites. Just because Fate willed it into being.” The Assassin points a finger at the camera.
“Mr. Owens and Ms. Adamson, you hold this opinion that my beloved and I have some problem with you? You falsely believe that we are holding onto some sort of grudge. You are so very wrong. I am but a servant of Fate. I am Fate’s Chosen Assassin and I carry out Fate’s will. If you become a target of my assault, then it is because Fate has singled you out for execution. When you find yourself on the radar of Fate, you can instantly begin the countdown because your days are numbered. When Fate singles you out, then Fate has decided to put an end to you. I just happen to be the lucky individual gifted with the very rewarding job of carrying out these executions. I am the one with the privilege of eliminating those who are on the wrong side of Fate.”
“You just happen to be on the wrong side of Fate.” Melinda chimes in with a cold smirk on her lovely face. “And you only have yourselves to blame. Don’t blame myself or Clyde, we had nothing to do with any of this. Like he said, we are just carrying out Fate’s orders. Fate has no favorites and holds no grudges. Human beings hold grudges, that is the fatal flaw of humanity. That, along with pride, the greatest sin of them all, is what led to the fall from grace. You caused your own fall, Chance and Kelsai. You did and if you do not believe me then let’s have a bit of a history lesson, shall we? Let’s rewind time back to Taking Hold of the Flame. You DO know the rules of that match, right? Every man and woman for themselves. If you are thrown over the top rope and both feet touch the floor you are eliminated. Chance, you made your spectacular return and you hoped for a storybook, fairy tale ending with you winning it all.” Braddock shakes her head. “But you took your eye off the ball. You were not paying attention to your surroundings. You allowed yourself to be eliminated by my man, Clyde Sutter. Now Clyde didn’t win, either, but he was prepared to take his defeat and walk away. Right love?” Melinda looks up into Clyde’s eyes. The cold stoic Sutter nods his head.
“Ineed. Fate had not willed that I would win Taking Hold of the Flame on that evening. I accepted Fate’s will and was prepared to move on. But you, Mr. Owens, you chose to assault me. Why? How had I wronged you other than eliminating you? If I recall the vast majority of the other entrants simply took their defeat and walked away. But you threw a tantrum like a sore loser.” Sutter smirks. Melinda snickers nastily.
“That’s right, Clyde! A great big sore loser! A child throwing a tantrum, all because Clyde ruined your return. If it had not been him then it would have someone else…perhaps Xander Valentine or Cid Turner? You were not going to win Taking Hold of the Flame because Fate had dictated that you would not win. It could have ended then and there and you still have had quite a monumental celebratory road to Rise To Greatness. But instead you made a choice. Fate allows us to make certain choices and you, Chance, made a poor choice. You threw your tantrum, you attacked Clyde, which put you squarely on Fate’s radar.”
“Fate has now made its judgment…and it has decided that you shall be brought to an end at Rise To Greatness.” The Assassin remarks coldly. “Do you think what I did to you, Ms. Adamson, was because I held a grudge against Mr. Owens? Quite the contrary. If I a held a grudge neither of you would be able to walk again. You were but merely another casualty of Fate. Fate willed that you would be dropped on that steel on Breakdown so I made it happen. I made it happen because it was Fate’s will and because Fate wanted this to happen. Fate wants this match to happen at Rise To Greatness. Mr. Owens and Ms. Adamson against Fate’s Chosen Assassin and The Third Generation Goddess. Unlike Taking Hold of the Flame, I can safely say that we will be victorious, because Fate has dictated your end and we shall carry it out.”
“You want know another reason why we are so confident heading into Rise To Greatness?” Melinda asks with a smug grin on her face. “You two are taking this oh so personally. You are letting your emotions drive you. Like we said, you are holding onto this grudge, you are upset over something…silly. For you, this is personal. But for myself and Clyde, this is just a job. We are executing Fate’s will. You sealed your own Fate when you assaulted Clyde at Taking Hold of the Flame, you set this entire thing into motion, Chance. Blame YOURSELF for Kelsai’s destruction. Blame YOURSELF for your dream return transformed into a nightmare. Blame YOURSELF for myself and Clyde bringing you and Kelsai to a complete and total end at Rise To Greatness.”
“Your Fate…” Sutter smirks “...is sealed.”
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July 7th, 2025
London, England
Off Camera
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The rusted gates of the Braddock Wrestling School creaked open. Even now, years after Melinda Braddock graduated from these grounds and stepped into her own career, the sound stirred something complicated in her chest; half pride, half anxiety. The school wasn’t just where she’d trained to be a wrestler. It was where she’d found a piece of her identity. Her grandfather Glenn Braddock left his mark everywhere within this facility. Later on, after his passing, Glenn’s daughter, Glory Braddock, would take over this facility and make it her own, though retaining much of the old Glenn Braddock charm. This place served as a reminder of discipline and her family legacy. This place, for all its grime and grit, had been sacred to the Braddock family. Which made walking back through these doors with Clyde Sutter at her side feel all that much more awkward.
Clyde towered beside her, as he always did. His long black hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, his deep-set eyes scanned the building’s facade with an unreadable expression. He used to train here too, but that was a lifetime ago and he was a very different man back then. He was a much darker and more dangerous person then. Back when he was all fire and fury and raw talent wrapped in a volatile package. Glory, Melinda’s mother, had seen promise in him. Clyde hit too hard, took things too far, fought like every sparring match was a street brawl. Eventually, after too many bruised ribs and one ugly incident that no one liked to talk about anymore, Glory Braddock had no choice but to kick him out. Clyde never came back. Not until now. But today is different. He is here on a mission.
Melinda glanced up at him as they stepped inside. He looked the same on the outside but she knew something had changed in him. He’d cleaned up, calmed down, started talking more about Fate and less about revenge. He still wrestled like a beast in the ring, but he’d learned to leash it. Control it. But no one at Braddock’s believed it. Not her aunt, not her mother, not the other trainers, not the current crop of students who had only heard the stories. Melinda hated that part most of all; the sideways glances, the tension in the air, the way people spoke to her like she was some naive girl falling for a reformed thug. They didn’t see the Clyde she saw. The Clyde who treated her like royalty, who would quite literally buy her anything she asked without a second thought. In fact, he would do anything she asked without a second thought and Melinda knew it. Clyde worshipped the ground she walked on. But that history wasn’t just going to vanish because she said he’d changed.
Melinda sighed. She could already hear the rhythmic sound of bodies hitting the canvas in the main gym. That familiar thud, followed by grunts and the occasional barked instruction, felt like home. She was proud to walk in here as a Braddock, proud of the work she’d put in, the legacy she carried. But she knew today wasn’t about her. To be perfectly honest, she isn’t even sure what today is all about. All she knows is that Clyde’s friend from Birmingham, England, Joey feels as if he is being stalked. First Joey felt he was being followed in Birmingham and so he fled to what he thought was the safety of the United States where Clyde let him stay in his apartment in Charlotte, North Carolina. But then that apartment was ransacked. Joey is scared half to death. Ordinarily Sutter would let Joey deal with this himself but not this time. Clyde is concerned that this may have little to nothing to do with Joey specifically and that it may cut closer to home.
“Are you going to be ok, babe?” Melinda asks with a note of concern in her voice. She recalls all too well the many incidents involving her boyfriend that ultimately led to him getting kicked out of the Braddock Wrestling School. The Assassin doesn’t seem too bothered. He simply nods his head, affirming that he is fine. For now.
“I may not have had the best of memories here but the honest truth is that most of this was my fault.” He looks side to side, scanning the room, taking note of the many stares he and Melinda are receiving. “Let them glare. Let them question me. Their doubts and criticism are justified. I beat up and hurt many individuals at this institution. I even roughed up a few trainers. All of it led to my removal.”
“My mom had something to do with it too.” Melinda says, rolling her eyes.
“She was right to do so.” Clyde remarks. “I was not a good man.”
“But you’ve changed.” Melinda insists. “And most of these people don’t know you the way I do. They just know your reputation. It isn’t fair to judge you off of your past.”
“Let them judge me.” He smiles warmly at Melinda. “The only judgment I care about is yours.”
“Fair enough.” She smirks. Braddock then twirls around, taking in the atmosphere, taking in these familiar surroundings. She grins from ear to ear, happy to have returned to her old stomping grounds. Sutter can’t help but chuckle.
“I take it you are pleased to be back?”
“Damn right.” Melinda says. “Hell, while we’re here maybe you can get a good workout in? Train for Rise To Greatness? This will be OUR first Rise To Greatness together, as a couple, as a united force within SCW!” Melinda is swooning as Clyde runs a hand through her long blonde hair.
“As lovely as that sounds, my love, we are not here for training purposes.”
“Right, right, I forgot,” she sighs “this has something to do with your pal Joey.”
“Correct.”
“Ok, then try and make this make sense, babe.” Melinda says. “If we are trying to help Joey, if we’re trying to find out who is stalking that guy, what are we doing at my family’s wrestling school? Joey is a street thug. He has no ties to professional wrestling except for the fact that he is YOUR friend.”
“And that very well could be the problem.”
“Huh?”
That answer did not help matters for Melinda. It only served to confuse her even further. The Third Generation Goddess opens her mouth to speak but Clyde motions for her to remain silent. The pair turn around in time to spot another imposing figure, almost as intimidating as Clyde himself, making his way over towards them. He is almost two decades older than Clyde but that doesn’t make him any more intimidating. This figure, wearing simply black gym shorts, black lace up wrestling boots, and a faded gray t-shirt is Mark O’Brian.
Mark O’Brian grew up as one of Glory Braddock’s closest friends. They were so close that Melinda considers him like an uncle and Mark is as protective of Melinda as an uncle would be towards his niece. More importantly, Mark is one of the trainers here at the Glenn Braddock Wrestling School and he is not very pleased with the arrival of Clyde Sutter. Why would he be happy? After all, Mark was the trainer Clyde beat up once upon a time.
“Mark!” Melinda tries to lighten the mood by rushing up to greet Mark with a big warm embrace. Clyde remains perfectly still for a moment while the two have their reunion, watching from afar. Upon breaking the hug Melinda looks up at Mark, smiling broadly.
“Great to see ya again, Mel. What brings you back here?”
“Oh you know me! I’m always keeping in shape! Between MWCW, MWE, GCW, and, of course, Supreme Championship Wrestling, everyone wants a piece of The Third Generation Goddess!”
“Yeah, you are doing well for yourself.” Mark smiles. He then looks back up at Clyde and snarls. “You know, maybe you should go and talk to some of the newer students, huh? Or maybe my sister Sophie?”
“Right.” Melinda rolls her eyes. “Just be nice to him, Mark.”
“I make no promises.”
Melinda walks off. With Melinda making her exit to speak with some other students, Mark is now free to have his confrontation with The Assassin. Clyde smirks as Mark makes his way over. A low chuckle escapes Sutter’s lips.
“You heard her, Mr. O’Brian. Be nice.”
“I’ll be however I want around you!” Mark snaps, an angry tone in his voice. “Ya know, I get why she’d wanna come back and visit. This place is her legacy. It was her grandad’s, it is now her mom’s, someday it will be hers. She learned how to be a professional wrestler by going through the same workout routines and classes these kids are going through today.”
“And my beloved is quite the accomplished wrestler.” Clyde remarks. “You should be proud of yourself, Mr. O’Brian.”
“Damn right she is a good wrestler!” This is quite the contrast. Mark is the angry one and Clyde remains calm, cool, and collected during this confrontation. “And yeah, she has every right to be here.” Mark points a finger at Sutter. “But you? You have no right to be here!”
“Why not?”
“Where the hell do I begin?! You were a horrible student! You never listened to any criticism. You took it all as an offense to your name. You were too ruthless, too violent, and too aggressive. You hurt students. You hurt trainers.”
“I recall that was just one trainer I beat up.” Sutter smirks. “You.” Mark slaps Clyde across the face. Despite this slap, Clyde remains calm.
“Shut up! Point is that you were kicked out! You do not belong here! So tell me, why the hell are ya here?”
“Perhaps I am just accompanying my fiance on a visit?” Clyde suggests. “You said yourself, she does belong here.”
“Nah, Mel knows better than to bring you along. You’re here because you insisted to come. I just know it.”
“Well then, you are not as dull as your sister often claims.” Sutter chuckles. “You are correct; I insisted that Melinda and I both come for this visit. But I assure you, Mr. O’Brian, that I am not here to reminisce, confront you, or even try to convince you and the rest of the staff here at this fine institution that I have changed. I know that convincing you lot of anything would be an exercise in futility.”
“Then you’re wasting my time.” Mark points towards the door. “Get out!”
“No.” Clyde shakes his head. “I need your help.”
“You need my help?” Mark laughs. “Now that’s rich!”
“It’s true. I need some information that you can provide.” Clyde states. “Tell me what I want to know and I will leave.”
“You know what’s even funnier than you asking for my help? You THINKING that I would actually help you!” Mark shakes his head. “No way! I’m not helping ya!” Mark starts laughing hysterically, which does annoy Sutter to an extent.
“What about Melinda? Would you help her?” Instantly Mark’s laughing ceases. He arches a brow out of curiosity.
“The hell are you on about?!”
“I’m in trouble, Mr. O’Brian. I do not know much, just that someone is being stalked. Someone is being targeted by an obsessive criminal, a thug. For the longest time I thought my friend Joey was the target. His past is rather similar to mine and he did a…job for me that put him in danger.”
“Some friend.” Mark scoffs.
“Now I suspect that Joey might not be the target. Perhaps I might be the target?”
“Great!” Mark snickers. “Maybe I’ll finish off what’s left of ya!”
“Now who is the good friend?” Clyde sneers. “Mr. O’Brian, did it ever occur to you that if I am indeed the target that Melinda, my love and future wife, might be in danger as well?”
This brings another tense moment of silence between the two. Mark O’Brian definitely does not want to help Clyde Sutter in any way. As far as Mark is concerned, if Clyde got himself into any trouble, its his own fault. Still, he does not want harm to fall onto Melinda. She never asked for any of it. Mark sighs and nods his head.
“Fine…what the hell do ya want from me?”
“You keep records of the students who passed through these hallowed halls. Correct?”
“Yeah, so?”
“I did not spend much time here before I was unceremoniously removed.” Sutter remarks. “All I need is a list of the students who trained during the same time period as me.”
“That’s it?” Mark blinks, he is somewhat surprised. “That’s all I gotta give ya to get ya out of my hair?!”
“I tried telling you but you insisted upon beating your chest like some angry gorilla marking his turf.”
“I don’t know what the hell that means but I’m sure it was an insult!” Mark snaps angrily. “But anyway, just…just stay here! I’ll be back with your damn list!”
The Assassin smiles with a mixed sense of relief, victory, and also a hint of nervousness. He has an idea of what this list will tell him. These were students he trained with, he worked with, and many of whom he injured. But there was one student in particular who, like him, saw wrestling as a way to get away from life on the streets, to make a good, just living. Clyde did not care. He was still the rage fueled monster that had no compassion. Clyde hurt that particular student so badly he was unable to return to the school, unable to complete the training, and unable to fulfill his hopes of becoming a wrestler. Sutter just needs to remember that name. This list will provide it. Mark O’Brian returns with a document in hand. He hands it over to Clyde with an angry grunt.
“There’s what ya asked for. Now ya can’t keep it. Once you found what you were looking for, put it back in the office and then leave.”
“Of course.” Sutter nods his head. “Thank you again, Mr. O’Brian.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
Mark turns and walks off. Sutter quickly turns his attention to the list in front of him. He scans it up and down, looking for the name. He knows he will recognize the student and remember him when he sees the name.
Then he sees it. His memory returns.
“Callum Slater.” Sutter says in a hushed whisper.
==========
On Camera
==========
The camera begins to roll and we open deep in the heart of a grand, gothic chamber. There we find two figures standing poised and confident, almost imposing. The chamber is steeped in shadow and candlelight, every inch of the space breathing brooding mystique. Ancient stone arches loom in the background. The flickering glow of wall-mounted candelabras dances across the high, vaulted ceiling. The cold stone floor reflects the soft gold hues of the firelight, warming the otherwise somber surroundings with a touch of intimacy. The man on the left is Clyde Sutter; he exudes a quiet but undeniable intensity. Fate’s Chosen Assassin is powerfully built, his posture relaxed yet commanding His black suit is immaculate; sharply cut, tailored close to his frame, every seam and fold crisp as if it were pressed by darkness itself. The jacket hugs his broad shoulders and narrows at his waist, and beneath it, his shirt is also black, giving him a stark, monochrome appearance that enhances his formidable presence. His long jet black locks falls past his shoulders, perfectly straight. It frames his square jaw. His expression is unreadable but intense; brooding eyes peer forward beneath a furrowed brow.
Standing beside him is his confidant, his partner in crime; The Third Generation Goddess Melinda Braddock. Her golden-blonde hair falls in soft, sculpted waves over her shoulder, glistening like moonlight on water. It cascades perfectly, drawing the eye downward to the smooth line of her bare shoulders and the glittering gown she wears; a strapless, champagne-colored creation that hugs her slender frame like a second skin. The fabric is intricate, dusted with delicate beading and metallic threadwork that catches the candlelight and shimmers with each subtle movement she makes. Around her neck hangs a dainty necklace with a single teardrop diamond, perfectly centered and adding a touch of refinement to her already regal appearance.
“Fate does not hold grudges. Fate does not play favorites. Unlike flawed, mortal human beings, Fate has risen above that. Fate is better than that and that is why Fate dictates the cosmos and not humanity. That is why Fate is at the top of the food chain and not humanity. Humanity, you are all just puppets on a string. You dance when Fate tells you, you jump when Fate tells you, and when Fate dictates that your time is up…well…” Sutter chuckles nastily and shrugs his shoulders “...well, your time is up and your Fate is sealed; not because Fate held a grudge, not because Fate played favorites. Just because Fate willed it into being.” The Assassin points a finger at the camera.
“Mr. Owens and Ms. Adamson, you hold this opinion that my beloved and I have some problem with you? You falsely believe that we are holding onto some sort of grudge. You are so very wrong. I am but a servant of Fate. I am Fate’s Chosen Assassin and I carry out Fate’s will. If you become a target of my assault, then it is because Fate has singled you out for execution. When you find yourself on the radar of Fate, you can instantly begin the countdown because your days are numbered. When Fate singles you out, then Fate has decided to put an end to you. I just happen to be the lucky individual gifted with the very rewarding job of carrying out these executions. I am the one with the privilege of eliminating those who are on the wrong side of Fate.”
“You just happen to be on the wrong side of Fate.” Melinda chimes in with a cold smirk on her lovely face. “And you only have yourselves to blame. Don’t blame myself or Clyde, we had nothing to do with any of this. Like he said, we are just carrying out Fate’s orders. Fate has no favorites and holds no grudges. Human beings hold grudges, that is the fatal flaw of humanity. That, along with pride, the greatest sin of them all, is what led to the fall from grace. You caused your own fall, Chance and Kelsai. You did and if you do not believe me then let’s have a bit of a history lesson, shall we? Let’s rewind time back to Taking Hold of the Flame. You DO know the rules of that match, right? Every man and woman for themselves. If you are thrown over the top rope and both feet touch the floor you are eliminated. Chance, you made your spectacular return and you hoped for a storybook, fairy tale ending with you winning it all.” Braddock shakes her head. “But you took your eye off the ball. You were not paying attention to your surroundings. You allowed yourself to be eliminated by my man, Clyde Sutter. Now Clyde didn’t win, either, but he was prepared to take his defeat and walk away. Right love?” Melinda looks up into Clyde’s eyes. The cold stoic Sutter nods his head.
“Ineed. Fate had not willed that I would win Taking Hold of the Flame on that evening. I accepted Fate’s will and was prepared to move on. But you, Mr. Owens, you chose to assault me. Why? How had I wronged you other than eliminating you? If I recall the vast majority of the other entrants simply took their defeat and walked away. But you threw a tantrum like a sore loser.” Sutter smirks. Melinda snickers nastily.
“That’s right, Clyde! A great big sore loser! A child throwing a tantrum, all because Clyde ruined your return. If it had not been him then it would have someone else…perhaps Xander Valentine or Cid Turner? You were not going to win Taking Hold of the Flame because Fate had dictated that you would not win. It could have ended then and there and you still have had quite a monumental celebratory road to Rise To Greatness. But instead you made a choice. Fate allows us to make certain choices and you, Chance, made a poor choice. You threw your tantrum, you attacked Clyde, which put you squarely on Fate’s radar.”
“Fate has now made its judgment…and it has decided that you shall be brought to an end at Rise To Greatness.” The Assassin remarks coldly. “Do you think what I did to you, Ms. Adamson, was because I held a grudge against Mr. Owens? Quite the contrary. If I a held a grudge neither of you would be able to walk again. You were but merely another casualty of Fate. Fate willed that you would be dropped on that steel on Breakdown so I made it happen. I made it happen because it was Fate’s will and because Fate wanted this to happen. Fate wants this match to happen at Rise To Greatness. Mr. Owens and Ms. Adamson against Fate’s Chosen Assassin and The Third Generation Goddess. Unlike Taking Hold of the Flame, I can safely say that we will be victorious, because Fate has dictated your end and we shall carry it out.”
“You want know another reason why we are so confident heading into Rise To Greatness?” Melinda asks with a smug grin on her face. “You two are taking this oh so personally. You are letting your emotions drive you. Like we said, you are holding onto this grudge, you are upset over something…silly. For you, this is personal. But for myself and Clyde, this is just a job. We are executing Fate’s will. You sealed your own Fate when you assaulted Clyde at Taking Hold of the Flame, you set this entire thing into motion, Chance. Blame YOURSELF for Kelsai’s destruction. Blame YOURSELF for your dream return transformed into a nightmare. Blame YOURSELF for myself and Clyde bringing you and Kelsai to a complete and total end at Rise To Greatness.”
“Your Fate…” Sutter smirks “...is sealed.”
![[Image: XJiTNy0.png]](https://i.imgur.com/XJiTNy0.png)
Career Achievements
MWE Television Champion 2x
MWE Riot Champion 1x
GCW World Tag Team Champion 1x
SCW Television Champion 1x