It had been weeks since the first round of the Master of the Mat... Darkspade arrived late at night, right after the event, at the manor he purchased, and has not been seen since, locked in his bedroom. The scene fades around the manor, with curtains swaying from open windows, painting an eerie, haunting vibe. Then a crossfade into the repurposed ballroom- where in the distance the mannequin Abby is still, frozen in time, with its arm stretched with a duster dusting an inactive server. There was no "signs" of the kid "Ricky." The entire manor was creepy still.
Day 10. 7:23pm.
The scene crossfades to Darkspade lying motionless on his bed.... whether he’s eaten or had anything to drink is unclear, though it hardly seems to matter. He exists there, silent, hollow, eyes dried out from staring too long at the ceiling, where mold creeps and cracks through the peeling paint above him. Then...... something shifts- maybe an Unholy disturbance. A flicker. A feeling. Then, his fingers twitch slowly at first........ then sharper, more deliberate, as if some unseen force is dragging him back into himself.
A sudden surge tears through him- his entire body convulses- and he snaps upright in a violent sit-up, gasping without breath. His gaze locks onto his toes, still and lifeless, as though they don’t belong to him. He tilts his head to the right. Then to the left. He experiences mass confusion followed by disbelief.
No cinematic miracle comes...... no triumphant return like Kill Bill. Instead, frustration boils over. He snarls, shouting at his own body, commanding it to obey. With a rough, graceless motion, he rolls off the bed and hits the floor. For a moment, he is head first on the gound and slowly performs a partial sit-up..... staring into nothing—his tangled black-and-gray hair spilling down, brushing against the mite-infested ground. Then, slowly… painfully.
He forces himself to stand.
Day 11. 1:23pm.
Abby is twirling and dancing to Kiss' "I was made for Lovin' You" as she dusting off the lint from the active servers....
In the background, the double-doors to the server room swings open as if this was a grand entrance - The Unholy One sported his long black ceremonial cape and his iconic black metal gauntlets. He was apparently dressed for an occasion. What that was? Who knows. But what allowed for a sinister grin to spread across his face was when he replayed the responses from Ricky Tenet.... in a corner of the room was a cemetery set- complete with a high end Hollywood quality camera on its stilt-- The Darkspade made his long methodical death march- from unseen areas rolled in a thick fog along with sounds coming from somewhere a clash of lightning followed by an old entrance music.
The Darkspade was clearly locked in some sick psyche as he assumed his role as "The Unholy One" - whipping his long black cape against the tombstones- tombstones with names of his victims etched, profound ones like Vito Valentino, Johnny Napalm, but one such tombstone- the one he gravitated to- stood by- and placed his gauntlets on top of was "Ricky."
The cameras rolled as he spoke- complete with the lighting flickering and the fog rising upon his command... he lowered his head as in prayer. He slowly raised his head, with the white of his eyes flickering back... he partially raised his right hand and curled his fingers as he spoke.
"At first. With the numerous beatings and mind games, you were never to break free from the lies of this world. Time after time after time, boy, you faltered and denied your true self. I felt like I was a father, a father who failed to bring you around to reality and accept your responsibility- your purpose. We separated and went our own separate ways. I continued to spread my teachings of The Unholy Darkness- defeated opponents- laying their graves- until I destroyed that pretentious monster, Napalm- capturing the SHOOT Project's Empire State Championship. As my reign as the Unholy Emperor ensured, his pet hyena, Vito, sought to steal the title from an opponent he had no idea about- no idea of my sick and twisted schemes and decades of annihilation and destruction. He believed that a feeble and cheap internet search of me would warrant answers- but he failed miserably at that task- and underestimated my Unholy reach... my Unholy powers. HE and HIS dear lover learned the hard way not to fuck with The Unholy One and Only."
The Unholy One lowered his hand and slowly paced the make-shift graveyard- kicking the stale lifeless dirt beneath him- he stops and comes into contact with an unmarked grave....
".... it was apparent that I am a threat to all of SHOOT Project.... and so, the management saw it fit to intervene and quite literally steal MY fucking belt through a farce... first by allowing Napalm to hide in my mirror - attack me - and then ALLOWING Vito to ride that hunch of junk of a truck he got off of eBay into the arena..... Now I've seen much better performances before- hell, there was not even any beer involved... so instead of preventing this, the so-called equalizer and protectors of this sport, AEGIS, only got their hands dirty when it was obvious the disadvantage I took. Look. I am not here to make excuses... I been through this path many times before. As I said, mortals fear the VOID - they either need to label it or find any way possible to remove it.... I am the greatest anomaly here in SHOOT Project--- I could have taken their title, infused with the corruption of the Unholy Darkness, and given the title and this company a future where the EVIL intensity resided in my being drew so much fucking money they would drown in it.... I mean, look at my popularity and merch sales alone.... My CREATURES OF THE NIGHT have emerged from the shadows of this world- they scream aloud at the top of their lungs, "THE DARKEST HOUR...." No one can stop the evil that has gripped this world. However, the need to gravitate to normalcy and the mundane was obviously the route that the company desired- and so they ripped the title from my waist and through a proxy hyena give it back to Napalm. Believing that is the end of me- but there is no end to the Unholy Darkness- only the manifestation of EVIL in its forms.... so, where the hell is MY return match? MY return title shot?- well this ASSHOLE is still waiting for its redemption-- I will obtain what was taken from me. Crickets."
The Darkspade smiles-- a close up of it... then the camera pans backwards to encompass the Unholy One again.
"Do not get me wrong. I can take it. I rarely state the obvious, but I want you to understand those lies- to know the evil inside me corrects them. I kept my mouth shut, sitting in my room, contemplating my next moves.... especially with my last engagement with Ricky. To swing full circle- Iron Saint- I felt it... I know that you did.... especially during our match. You beat me not with your pathetic "sainthood".... you beat me because you tapped into that part of you you wish never existed, that you hide when you go out with your friends and converse with fans and colleagues and your father. You defeated me through a viciousness you never exhibited before- it's clear. You tapped into that evil intensity- a response of The Unholy Darkness. And with that- you finally transcended. But if you think you won and this hell on Earth is over for you, oh no, you unfortunate soul, the infection within you will only spread. I want you to see that this is a test, not just a threat, and my sincerity is rooted in my desire for you to confront your darkness. I am rooting for you, boy, dear lost soul- The Iron Sadist will emerge again from that cocoon you call a flesh... when that happens, you will ascend deeper and deeper into The Unholy Darkness... good luck at Zenith 14-I truly hope you find what you're seeking."
The Darkspade grabbed a shovel right beside the tombstone and was about to dig - when, the lights flickered.... he looks oddly up at ALL of the terminals in the room.... with..... something he was familiar and yet not.... then, complete darkness as the electricity to everything cuts off.... what does this all mean?
