Aaron Blackbourne vs. Syren

[Konrad Raab]

3 RP Limit for singles;

Deadline: 11:59:59 pm ET Saturday, September 21, 2019

[Ruppy]

OOC: So, remember when I said I held off on a CD part to my last RP and would just end up posting it in the CD area to keep what I wanted to do on track? Ultimately, I decided on a much better way to use that idea and ended up rewriting and re-purposing it for the first CD part to this piece. I tried to make everything flow in a way that made sense, bringing to light where Aaron's mind stands and is reacting to not only the aftermath of the Dylan arc, but also what that means going into this "Imagination War" arc I guess we'll call it. I'm happy with how it came out, at least, especially since I'm super happy with the idea I came up with in the second CD part that will hopefully see more use beyond this PPV whenever Aaron decides it's time to dig into his imagination and unleash something. Side note to Olek: I promise I'll get stuff pertaining to said 'demon' idea pieced together ASAP as it was kind of a late spur-of-the-moment idea I really liked and decided to run with. Best of luck!
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Despite not being U.S. Champion, among other smaller things that bothered him, Aaron honestly couldn’t have asked for a better road from Rise to Greatness into Apocalypse.

True, it didn’t start off too well with Xander Valentine’s unprovoked attack on fans at the end of the first Breakdown after the biggest show of the year, something he personally took great issue with not just because the act itself crossed a line, but because that night’s show was in Boston, and being a roughly 45 minute drive away from his birthplace of Lowell meant several people he’d grown up with were likely in attendance and therefore at risk for no reason other than trying to watch their favorite wrestlers in action. From there, however, everything else slowly seemed to fall into place as he stepped up to challenge Syren and call her out on all her B.S. she’s been spewing and believing in for far too long. From being able to compete again with his ribs having healed up very nicely (even if he wasn’t a fan of how he actually won the match) to effectively being one step ahead of Syren at every turn up to this point, it was hard to deny that not only was his confidence growing with when he really needed it the most, but he was also more relaxed and able to enjoy the way he was approaching this impending battle in his quest to prove he was ready to earn the recognition of being one of SCW’s potential main event players going forward.

Being able to be himself and indulge in what made him Aaron Blackbourne in the first place was not only a great tactic to keeping Syren off-balance but also the best position he could be in for reasons that only he and a select few close to him were fully aware of.

With the final chapter of the Dylan situation having been written, there were no further distractions to keep him from being able to finally sort out the mess that his head had admittedly become over the course of the past year. The potential for these problems to spill out of his imagination and begin to poison his life in the real world had become too great for him to ignore, and he knew the head of the proverbial serpent had to be lopped off if he was to have any hope of truly returning to the life he wanted to live. For too long, Nemesis had been keeping him in a state of constant stress and rattling him at the worst possible times, all for the sake of feeding off the problems to remain a constant force in trying to take complete control, and this was the opening Aaron had been seeking to finally be rid of the imaginary embodiment of all his darker and more toxic feelings that threatened to destroy him time and time again. With an understanding he never thought he’d achieve with two of his creations that had kind of helped start these problems in the first place, the stage was set for him to gather his thoughts and close the book on this chaotic chapter of his life once and for all.

Dreambender and Gleeful could focus on rebuilding bridges with those who had been caught in their own crossfire and building the army he’d need to lay siege to Nemesis’ domain, leaving him with the equally important task of keeping his life moving in the direction he was guiding it in now to starve the sinister sovereign of stress of what gave him all his power in the first place.

“And here I thought I’d be the nervous one, considering I’m the performer for tonight.”

Aaron snapped out of his thoughts when he noticed Liane giving him a smile that was both meant to help calm him down but also fail in hiding how she felt about tonight. With Breakdown having emanated from Washington D.C. the previous night and Apocalypse set to take place roughly an hour away in Baltimore that Sunday, the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. With the work ethic and reputation she’d managed to garner through her comedy performances over the course of this year, bolstered by the fact that her fiancé was the perfect weapon for guaranteeing the best promotional and advertising material to keep her shows selling out no matter what sized venue her gig was at, she’d managed to secure arguably her biggest booking yet as the headliner for a comedy performance taking place at the legendary Warner Theatre for up-and-coming acts in the business. She’d heard that several big names in the industry were going to be in the audience, not to mention executives from Comedy Central scouting for potential talent to give a breakout network special to, so nailing this performance was just as important to her comedy career taking off as Aaron’s performance in the 2017 End of the Year open invitational did for securing an SCW contract and kickstarting the biggest phase of his wrestling career yet.

“Sorry babe, just kind of getting lost in my thoughts I guess while you were getting ready.”

“More issues from everyone fighting inside your head?”

“Kind of… I wouldn’t really call it ‘issues’ for the moment, though. At least not now that I’ve managed to get Dreambender and Gleeful on my side to try and resolve the Nemesis problem once and for all.”

Liane smiled at that news, having been kept up-to-date on Aaron’s efforts to try and create some sort of truce with the problem children since they started expressing regret over where things had gone between them as opposed to antagonizing them as they had been doing before. Her eyes, though, still showed a great deal of concern, and she Aaron could recognize it when she quickly turned away from him to finish applying her makeup. One perk of being the soon-to-be husband of a soon-to-be household name in comedy was being able to join her back in her dressing room to help her get ready and keep her focused for the task at hand, much as she was able to do for his wrestling endeavors.

“It’s alright Liane, really. Now that they’re on my side, my biggest concern right now is simply trying to get back to really being me. No more stress or finding myself in situations where I can get rattled easily, no more chances for Nemesis to try and involve himself in my life and go from being a sort-of creation of mine to actually trying to be me, and no more toxic outside influences like Dy-”

He stopped short of finishing that thought, the name that was about to leave his lips still being a bit of a sore subject right now. While he could do his best to ignore it inside his head, where it was much easier when he could distract himself with other things, in reality he was still trying to come to terms with the whole ordeal. Even when he’d woken up in the hospital to learn of everything that happened after he’d passed out from his injuries and filled in the blanks for both an obviously worried Liane and the police for their investigation, it was still a subject he was trying to wrap his head around for better or worse. He was still troubled by the last thing he remembered seeing before blacking out, that being the twisted smile of his assailant after his own aggression had seen him drive the crowbar through his own throat upon landing as opposed to embedding it into Aaron’s skull as he’d planned, and he still couldn’t explain the one thing he hadn’t revealed to either party in that hospital room about swearing he’d heard his brother warning him to move just before Dylan lunged at him for that fateful final attack.

“You don’t have to say his name anymore Aaron… he’s gone, and he can’t bother you or your family ever again. And don’t even think about believing you should be guilty of murder, because you didn’t kill him. He did himself in and wasted his last moments trying to paint a picture that wasn’t there just to get to you. You’re stronger than that and I think he knew it, and he deserved everything he got and more.”

Despite the reassurance, Aaron couldn’t help but gaze at Liane in shock for the way she worded some of that and the tone she spoke it in. The look she returned almost made it seem like she was taking some kind of silent joy in Dylan’s death, but she quickly shook this off and returned to the nervous expression she wore beforehand, albeit with an added blush of embarrassment this time.

“Sorry… I think I’m getting so worked up about tonight that I let ‘psycho Liane’ have some room to slip out. Even if I don’t agree with how she worded some of that, I still agree with what she was trying to go for.”

“Nerves get the best of all of us sometimes, but it’s better to happen now than when you’re actually out there on stage. You’ll do great Liane, I know you will. You’re my ‘clown princess of comedy’ for a reason. And I appreciate the pep talk, all the same, even coming from her. Glad to see she’s starting to warm up to me finally… it’s just been hard reflecting back on everything that happened that night, from the attack and how it went down to hearing Andrew’s voice warning me to move-”

“Wait, you never mentioned anything about that before.”

Liane was in the right to be surprised at this little revelation, and Aaron made it pretty easy to read his face and understand it was something he was still trying to come to terms with himself on top of everything else. It was a good thing he did, too, because before he could actually put a voice to those thoughts, they were interrupted by a knock at the door and a stagehand giving Liane her five-minute warning before she’d be on. She stood up and straightened the dress she was wearing before taking one last look in the mirror to make sure she looked good since she knew Aaron would agree with that assessment no matter what, and once she was satisfied and flashing that smile that had enraptured audiences just as much as it did the creative soul linked to her, she took his hand and helped him stand up from the couch he’d been seated on before they made their way towards where she’d be ‘entering from stage right’ for her act. As they watched the guy currently onstage finish up his routine and take a bow to the deafening applause of the audience, she leaned in close to speak low enough that only he could hear.

“We’ll finish this conversation with you filling me in on your guardian angel later.”

“Knock ‘em dead, and you’ve got a deal.”

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, for our final act of the night, please put your hands together for the self-proclaimed ‘Clown Princess of Comedy’ herself… LIANE FORTE!”

Liane couldn’t help but chuckle through the announcer’s introduction of her at her love’s unintentional dark humor before they shared a kiss for luck and she pulled away to hit the stage, the people in attendance wasting no time in giving her a warm welcome and getting drawn in once she had the microphone. Aaron stayed right where he was, grinning like a fool as he did his best to suppress his laughter at her clever humor and overexaggerated mannerisms to help sell several of her jokes to even greater effect. No matter how many times she’d practice this material on him as a warm-up, it always got him every time. Thankfully, his fears of laughing so hard he’d unintentionally interrupt her performance from the sidelines were mitigated when he felt a hand pat his back before his attention was briefly diverted to the man who was now standing beside him, his voice matching the disembodied one that had introduced every single act throughout the night.

“I know you probably hear this enough in your own profession, what with things like title opportunities and whatnot, but you’re a lucky man. She’s a very much needed breath of fresh air in an industry that’s starting to become stale. Nothing against the greats, but it’s hard to really stand out when just about everything’s been joked about to the point where it’s like beating a dead horse hoping people will still get a laugh or two out of it.”

“Yeah, she’s certainly one of a kind alright, and I can’t help but watch how much I’ve inspired her as much as she inspires me.”

The man could only nod at this as they kept watching Liane’s performance, the audience hanging on her every word and struggling to breathe with every joke that elicited more and more laughter. She was having the time of her life doing this, and Aaron couldn’t resist seeing the parallels with his own situation in SCW at the moment. Much like Liane was a ‘breath of fresh air’ compared to many longstanding comedians who relied on the same routines that had long since been perfected as a safety net for their careers, Aaron was the same when compared to someone like Syren. For a woman who had battled everyone from authority figures to technical wrestling wizards and those who claimed to embody entertainment to deranged lunatics and everything in between, it was always the same song and dance: she’s a multi-time World Champion, she’s the ‘best female wrestler in the world’ and she’s deserving of her newfound place in the Hall of Fame for her accolades. She could talk for hours and hours about how she would find some way back to being World Champion again and people would turn off the TV the moment she said her first word, and yet Aaron had found a way to keep them tuned in by giving the fans something different to interrupt the formulaic speech of his impending enemy. From painting himself in a non-demonic fashion to create a visual reference to delving into the intriguing world of drawing caricatures, he’d finally presented a challenge Syren simply could not find an answer for.

It was as comforting being back in his element as it was for Liane to be gliding along the stage, arm flailing wildly in the air to play along with the latest joke in her routine, the crowbar cutting into her chest and throat with each pass it made in front of her-

Wait… what?

Aaron had to do a double-take to make sure he was seeing this correctly, but it certainly looked to his eyes like Liane was using the pointed tip of a crowbar to mutilate herself before a cheering audience. He closed his eyes and shook his head, and when he opened them again he was relieved to see that it had been some sort of hallucination. The sight of his perfectly fine wife-to-be continuing on with her routine uninhibited was a relieving sight, though with another blink of his eyes he suddenly swore he saw the crowbar again. This time, instead of hearing Liane’s voice causing many in the audience to bust a gut, he swore he heard Dylan’s voice instead preaching out into the microphone as he scraped the crowbar across his body.

“-the man gets praised for being a fighter instead of being jailed like the murderer he is, and all I get is a condemnation to Hell for being the victim! Self-defense is no excuse for letting him off the hook just because he works for a company that’s more than happy to hire those who would threaten your safety as much as the safety of one another on a weekly basis!”

“Hey buddy, you alright?”

Aaron looked over to the show’s emcee, who was showing a great deal of concern for the creative soul. It was at this moment that he fully realized just how much his blood felt like it was freezing over in his veins, the cold sweat as noticeable on his forehead to his sense of touch as putting on a blindfold and reaching your hand into a box to try and guess whatever was inside. The voice on the stage in front of him was faint now, but he could still clearly hear the male voice of the man that had tried so hard to destroy the lives of him and his family as opposed to the melodic joy of the voice that should’ve been produced by those vocal cords.

“I- I just need to get something to drink quick. If she wraps up before I get back, let her know and tell her I’m sorry.”

Before the emcee could get a word out, Aaron suddenly bolted off through the backstage area, only stopping once he’d found the water cooler. Instead of getting said drink, however, he instead quickly looked around to find he was alone before he squatted down beside it, hands on the sides of his head as he lowered it almost into his lap. Even though he was far enough away from the stage to hear the performance, he swore he could still hear Dylan’s voice ringing out, trying to publicly condemn him from beyond the grave for something that wasn’t true. He kept thinking to himself that Dylan ended up doing himself in, playing the last moment of that encounter over and over in his mind to reassure himself, but the pounding voice of guilt wasn’t going to throw in the towel that easily. He barely even registered his own quiet mumbling to himself for it to just stop and leave him alone over what he was hearing in his head, trying to contradict every last trace of evidence that he knew cleared his name of any wrongdoing.

“Aaron!”

He didn’t know much time ultimately passed, but what finally cut through the barrage of guilt plaguing his thoughts was the voice he needed to hear now more than ever. When he slowly lifted his head, he saw Liane crouching down in front of him, her finger wiping away tears that he didn’t even realize he was crying.

“Liane…? Don-t- don’t you…”

“I finished my set a few minutes ago. As soon as I started heading off stage, I noticed you weren’t here. I was told you went to go get a drink, but… I just had this gut feeling something was wrong.”

“I… I suddenly started seeing you holding a crowbar… trying to literally tear yourself apart with it. Your words… they weren’t your voice, your routine, they were HIS words, trying to condemn me for-”

Aaron had to say no more, because Liane wasted no time throwing her arms around him and holding him tightly, pressing a deep kiss to his lips to remind him that she was there for him and always would be, no matter what. The world around them became irrelevant for the next few minutes, only focusing on the two of them as Aaron slowly began to shake off the effects of the sudden assault on his perception of reality. They agreed the best thing to do at that point was return to their hotel for the night and get a good night’s rest before they started heading towards Baltimore for Apocalypse, Liane having gotten all the adulation for her performance she needed and knowing her beloved’s mental stability was far more important in this moment.

As Aaron lay in bed that night, slowly regaining full control of his senses as Liane used his chest as a pillow to help remind him of what he’d always have in case anything else happened to plague his dreams, the only thought that started becoming prevalent in his mind was the belief that Nemesis would pay for trying to use his lingering guilt of one of the darkest moments of his life to try and desperately maintain any sort of hold over him.

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The safest place within one’s dreams is the sanctuary they build for themselves to reflect within.

That’s what Aaron told himself when he finally fell asleep and found it guiding him into his imagination, which was no surprise at this point given how much of an escape it always became when something in the real world needed to be sorted out in a place where he felt the most comfortable.

His troubled mind knew exactly where he needed to be, and it would come as no surprise when he found himself before the gates of the Sanctuary, the one place in his thoughts he knew couldn’t be breached even by any of his own creations. As he made his way to the central room, he considered the possibility of discussing this matter with someone else. The Twin Stars immediately came to mind, though he figured that conversation may only instigate some kind of premature attack that Nemesis would be able to spin to his advantage if he had even the slightest hint of what Aaron’s true plan was. Zeitgeist was another obvious option, and while he would certainly be able to guide Aaron to the answers he sought, ultimately he didn’t feel like he was in the mood to play the usual cryptic games that often came with it. He simply needed to reflect on exactly what happened earlier.

Hence why he leaned over the edge of the stone rail and peered quietly into the endless river surrounding the innermost sanctum of this place.

“He’s sick, going to those lengths… sick, but desperate…”

Aaron couldn’t help but vocalize his thoughts as he tried to replay the events over in his mind. As much as he wanted to say this was a new low for the imaginary incarnation of all his stress and negativity, the reality of the situation was that he never had a definition of ‘too low’ to begin with. So long as he had something he could use to give him strength and continue the fight, he would pull out every trick in the book to avoid losing everything that he’d gained. In that respect, he and Syren had a lot in common, and while the thought of unleashing that abomination to shatter her ego trip was enticing, there were some lines that were never worth crossing and he knew full well that was one of them. Even ignoring the risks of willingly dealing with that devil and openly giving him any sort of control, not even someone like Syren deserved the kind of horrors Nemesis was willing to unleash all in the name of showing what he was truly capable of.

“Nemesis is as threatened of me actually finding my comfort zone in all of this again as she is of me proving that sticking to the same old routine is going to be her undoing sooner rather than later.”

“That is the curse they are forced to bear.”

Aaron suddenly whipped around, his surprise at the additional voice nearly sending him over the stone architecture and into the drink. This was supposed to be his one true safe place, no one else allowed in unless he willed it to be and that was a very rare honor that would likely never come to pass. And yet, there was no mistaking the fact that he was looking at another entity besides himself within these hallowed walls. Perhaps furthering his confusion was the fact that this being looked like nothing he’d ever created before, the best way to describe it being if someone took the completely spectral humanoid appearance of the Twin Stars and applied it to him, except replace anything pertaining to the appearance of the cosmos with what looked like eternally changing swirls of every color conceivable by the human eyes, and maybe ones that not even we are capable of truly comprehending, harmonizing with one another.

“I apologize… I didn’t mean to startle you, I was simply answering your dormant calls for someone to join you in conversation.”

Aaron raised an eyebrow at this, knowing that before he entered here tonight he was heavily contemplating discussing the issues of earlier and how they may throw off what he has going for him right now into what, for all he knew, could be his last real chance to crack the upper echelon of SCW with someone, but he never openly imagined such a thing really happening, least of all like this.

“Who are you?”

“Let’s see, how do I put this…? As difficult as I know this will likely be for you to understand, I can probably best be described as a physical manifestation of your imagination itself.”

This answer found itself met by the flattest, most unamused look Aaron had probably ever given to anyone in the history of his entire existence both upon this earth and within his own creative world.

“Maybe I finally am going crazy… how do you expect me to simply accept that with little rhyme or reason?”

“There’s hardly ‘little’ rhyme or reason to it. Your creativity is always working even when you aren’t fully immersed in using it. Anything from sudden ideas to some of your ‘on-the-fly’ decisions in the ring can be attributed to that. Even if you don’t accept that reasoning, is it so farfetched when you recall one of your enemies is essentially the same idea except for your more negative aspects as opposed to the one you cherish the most?”

Aaron had to admit he was beat there, though he was still a little on edge to the fact that he had company here in the one place where he should’ve been guaranteed to be alone when necessary. Even if he was inclined to believe the explanation of WHAT he was looking at, it still didn’t explain WHY it was here in the first place. He started to ask that question but was stopped when the being held up its hand. Out of nowhere, an easel with a giant art book opened up to a set of blank pages suddenly materialized before him, and the figure slowly began to draw upon its blank canvas while speaking.

“The truth of the matter is, Aaron, that your mind is in a very fragile state, though I don’t believe you would be surprised at that explanation considering the traumatic experience you endured roughly one month ago. You know, deep down, that you are struggling to come to terms with everything that took place, and it is made even worse by the forces that conspire to keep you in this state for their own benefit.”

“Like Nemesis.”

“Within the confines of your mind, yes. But such threats exist beyond your mental realm as well. Thus far you have been able to immerse yourself in your truest passions to go about this tit-for-tat with Syren in a way that you feel most comfortable with. Should others catch on to that and the success you garner from it compared to other moments where you were clearly not fully invested because you were forced to play the games of another…”

“…they could resort to whatever dirty tricks are necessary to silence my creativity and force me down to their level.”

The being simply nodded as it continued to draw, it’s eyes never leaving its work even as it spoke, causing no interruption to the life being breathed into the paper at its fingertips.

“Every living being is born with a curse, and it is easy to exploit them once you deduce it. You know that you are cursed with a struggle to properly deal with situations that make you question yourself and your worth in the world, hence why it has manifested as a being all its own. But at the end of the day, a curse only has as much power as you are willing to give it, hence why despite her own curse in regards to approaching each and every situation the exact same way, Syren continues on as though nothing is truly challenging it no matter what you say to her.”

Aaron nodded, understanding where this being was trying to go with this, but still pondering what exactly what going on if he had to be honest. He started trying to walk around to see what it was working on but found that his legs could only seemingly walk in place, a knowing smile being the only answer to that as a means of testing his patience.

“That said, you better than anyone must be aware of what happens when you introduce a design into the equation, right? It doesn’t matter what the design actually is, or even isn’t, because everyone will always find a different interpretation for it. A design could even make something such as a curse take on an entirely new meaning depending on who it is shown to. It could become a representation of lulling others into a false sense of security, or a weapon to truly drive home whatever point you wish to make about what they are and how they will fall.”

The figure finally turns the easel around, and Aaron’s eyes widen at what he sees. While there are several drawings, each with varying levels of detail that easily fit the concept of it taking on a whole new meaning, the core design is the same: a melting skull with a nail driven into the top left side of it, as though it were piercing whatever brain was contained inside. Aaron, now free to move, slowly ran his fingers over each intricate detail in several of the designs, his mind a hurricane of various possibilities he could unleash just with this alone.

“A cursed design…”

“Consider it a gift from your subconscious, as a means of helping you stay the course no matter what turmoil you endure. Remember that your mind will always be active, even when you aren’t willingly using it. That’s why things are the way they are, but not all of it is bad.”

The being suddenly vanishes, leaving Aaron with far more questions than answers, and yet he feels more at peace with himself despite what happened earlier than ever before. His mind truly was a unique specimen all its own, always working to protect him and help him cope and understand even when he didn’t realize it, and for as much damage as Nemesis thought he could do, something like that could very easily undo it all just as well. Now Aaron had an interesting and versatile new weapon at his disposal… and a pretty good idea of how he wanted to introduce it to the world.

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‘Every human has four endowments – self-awareness, conscience, independent will and creative imagination. These give us the ultimate human freedom… the power to choose, to respond, to change.’

Stephen Covey once said these words, and I can think of no better words to sum up where we stand right now. SCW is entering into a time where the landscape is slowly beginning to shirt, where the faces of old that once had a stranglehold of the top of the food chain are starting to lose their grip as more and more fresh, hungry faces begin to emerge and challenge their self-imposed superiority. So many names that have been firmly entrenched in the main event picture for quite some time now are starting to rely solely on what brought them to the dance, from putting their comments of being the best on loop to reading the same dialogue of why they and they alone should be the face of the company over everyone else. We get it, you’ve been to the top of the mountain before and held all these different titles and accolades, but as we all know… nothing lasts forever. Those accomplishments may be written in the history books for everyone who succeeds us to read about years from now, but that shouldn’t be the only argument you present as to why you deserve to keep your place.

After all, how is it fair to those who’ve yet to break the glass ceiling like so many know they can if they’re not allowed to even have the opportunity to do so because you refuse to accept that the sun is setting on the glory you hold so near and dear?

Those four endowments that Mr. Corvey spoke of… I would hope by now that I wouldn’t have to justify creative imagination, given who I am and what I preach. But what about the others? In the grand scheme of things, I look at my place on the SCW roster and admit that I am fully aware that I have had many opportunities to try and break into the upper echelon of this industry only to fall short time and time again. That said, I am also aware of how close I’ve come every single time, to the point where even those who have taken so much pride in trying to verbally tear me apart for one reason or another can’t resist admitting that my time in the spotlight they hold so dear may not be as far off as they initially thought, and to simply throw in the towel and give up now just because of past failures would be a burden that would crush my conscience for years to come. Owen and Alistaire, two men I respect with all my heart and soul and would easily go so far as to call them the best friends a guy could have, are main eventing Apocalypse against one another for the World Championship, and I would never be able to live it down if I simply let them have all the fun up there without finding my own way to join them eventually, now would I?

View me as a fool, call me stubborn… throw whatever insult you can think of to try and justify why I’d be better off just taking my ball and going home ‘because I’ll never make it’ because, at the end of the day, I and I alone have the independent will to decide when my time is truly up, and I have to apologize because I don’t feel like I’ve truly tried every way I can think of just yet to reach that next level.

As insightful as these endowments are, however, it’s painfully easy to blind yourself to the fact they even exist when you’ve grown so used to being set in your ways that the mere thought of change in any capacity is cause for alarm. That, Syren, is the biggest reason behind your fall from grace at Rise to Greatness. You can plan and scheme and get as much help as you desire, but the problem is that you’ve become used to facing the same people under the same conditions time and time again. You’ve been in SCW for a long time at this point, and Dark Fantasy’s bag of tricks is starting to finally feel empty for once as you’ve used the same tired schtick night after night, year after year to overcome the same challenges presented to you. Blame it on whatever you desire, but the truth of the matter is that you were so used to coasting on your past achievements and the help you got along the way that the idea of losing to someone who was, quite simply, a better WRESTLER than you never even existed as a possibility until it was too late. Alistaire didn’t need to scheme, he didn’t need to counter your help with some of his own… he simply did what he does best and you weren’t prepared because he wasn’t playing your game.

You ever stop to wonder why critics will put movies, books, video games, and others on full blast simply because they stick to the clichés born from those who were so successful in innovating them that they were beaten into the ground in the first place?

Sooner or later, everyone simply gets tired of it. They want something new, something they’ve never seen before… someone to look at that formula and outright question what can be done to reinvent it by challenging what’s already there. That, Syren, is the basis of our match in its purest form. While you are aware that you are one of the best to ever set foot in the ring, something I won’t deny, you fail to realize that you’ve become so synonymous with this idea that you will always get your way because of who you are and what you’ve done in the past that you’ve made yourself into a parody of everything you once called into question when you were where I am now. Be honest with me for a second Syren: when you first stepped between those ropes, how often did you pursue those at the top because you felt they’d been there way too long? How many times did you call out the people who were multi-time World Champions for hogging the spotlight because they couldn’t accept that their time had passed and the torch needed to be in the hands of some new blood? Better still, how many times did you march down to the ring and call out legends like your mentor CHBK and Jason Zero and even Jake Starr at one point in time for the exact same reasons I called you out to your face weeks ago?

All I did was put my own unique spin on an approach that many others, including yourself, have done before me, and the fact that you felt like I had to be dealt with at all proves how much my words rattled you.

I wouldn’t be surprised to hear you shove every single thing you’ve accomplished in your career down my throat as a means of trying to justify why we are where we are right now in this sport, but if this year has proven anything to me Syren it’s the fact that you are at your most vulnerable. True, you may have been World Champion for most of 2019, but the two young men who have ‘your spot’ in the main event come Sunday night have both handed you direct defeats that have revealed to the world that there is a glimmer of hope that SCW might finally be able to move forward without Syren being an eternal presence in the main event compared to people who have been busting their asses for far too long to get so much as one opportunity to be where you’ve been.

When Owen pinned you to win Tactical Warfare for Team Syren and subsequently earn himself a World Title shot, you conveniently disappeared behind a supposed injury to avoid him exposing you in a true one-on-one contest.

When Alistaire took the title from you at Rise to Greatness, you blamed the circumstances not being in your favor and fell back on your old gambit of rematch entitlement and being persecuted against by the person in charge because the way you act is a devastating counterbalance to the talent you do possess.

When I defeat you at Apocalypse, what will you be able to say in response?

The one key difference between myself and those before me is that, despite not having a say in the matter on their end, this time you only have one person to concern yourself with, and deep down you don’t even truly know WHAT is going to be standing across the ring from you. Perhaps you can guess I’ll dig through my imagination and find something there, but can you even say for sure what exactly that thing might be? Maybe I’ll take a break from introducing individual demons and open the gates to my creative kingdom in a different fashion, much like I did at Rise to Greatness. The only thing that is certain about me is that you will never truly know what I might do in that ring until I do it, and against someone like you who is so used to dealing with certain scenarios that have played out like a broken record over the years… I am, for all intents and purposes, your worst nightmare.

I respect what you’re capable of Syren, I really do. But facts are facts, and the fact of the matter is that if you truly hope to stay where you feel you belong, you’re going to have to adapt to the world as it shifts around you. Competitors like Owen, Alistaire and myself are only scratching the surface of who could be on the horizon for future generations of SCW talent, and the more you stick to your guns the easier you become to read. We’ve heard you tell the world for years that you are everything that you claim to be, but unless you become willing to change the script and realize exactly what you’re up against, there will be only one ending to this little performance at Apocalypse.

And I regret to inform you that it’s not the same ending you’ve become accustomed to for as long as the story of Syren has been airing reruns on SCW programming to the point where someone like me could quote an entire episode verbatim from start to finish.