The screen is black.
Then, words bright red, appear.
“INTERVIEW WITH A SAMOAN VAMPIRE: CHAPTER ONE”
This dissolve fades to a scene inside some manner of room overlooking the skyline of Las Vegas. Seated at a table, facing away from us, is a man seated in front of a digital microphone. He is nondescript. Across the table, however, is a figure who is entirely descript. Broad across the shoulders, his skin tan, his hair long and curly and damn near vantablack. His eyes hidden behind hard-angled mirrored sunglasses straight from 1998.
He’s also wearing a gigantic, oversized black leather tenchcoat–a duster, in fact. He speaks, obviously continuing a thought.
Norris Feraatu: I was still yet a babe when the darkness claimed me. Back then my concerns were…petty things. Childish things. I was but a boy in the sunshine state–ironic, that.
He sighs, steepling his fingers–we can see that he grows them all long and files them to points. They’re also all lacquered with black nail polish in mirror finish.
Norris Feraatu: But I do not look back on my prior life with regret. I do not look on it with a feeling of sadness for things lost. I was, then I was, then I am. It need not be any more complicated than that.
Interviewer: Right, but that’s where I’m still fuzzy. The part where you were who you were and now are who you are. Explain that, the process.
Norris Feraatu: That is…that is a subject for another evening, mortal.
The man shakes his head, grabbing a cigarette from a pack and firing it up.
Interviewer: Okay, okay, so. Let’s say I take this at face value. You’re a man whose legal name is Norris Feraatu, you’re from Florida, and you’re a vampire. Let’s say I accept that as a premise.
Norris Feraatu: You should. It’s the truth.
Interviewer: So why are you where you are? You hand me eternal life, I’m at least travelling, fucking, and making obscene amounts of money until I’m bored with it. Why wrestle?
Norris stands, his Lorenzo Lamas duster jacket creaking. He places his hands behind his back, pacing to the window, where we can see the glow of the city reflected in his mirrored glasses.
Norris Feraatu: Do you have enemies, mortal?
Interviewer: I’ve been known to have a few, yeah.
Norris Feraatu: What about enemies of your people, of your kind?
Interviewer: Uh…I guess terrorists?
Norris Feraatu: There are a…type of being that hunts us. Want to destroy us. Consider us agents of a vast, primordial darkness. There has been a war raging for millenia. REIGN is simply the latest battleground.
He grins, showing legitimate fangs.
Norris Feraatu: And this time, I intend to win.
Slowly, this scene fades to black.
Chingons Groseros Vs. Furia Inviernal (c)
REIGN World Tag Team Championships
Tag Team Match
A hush falls over the crowd as the lights dim – just enough for everything in the arena to still barely be visible.
The video screen suddenly kicks on and we see a familiar figure staring back at us. His face is oblong and chin crooked and wizened. His gray eyes are flanked by crows feet as he reaches up and tips his stovepipe hat toward the crowd as he speaks in a voice that sounds out of time and plac.
Dr. Străjer: Welcome, SHOOT faithful, to a glorious occasion. A truly auspicious event as you will get to observe one of nature’s most quizzical creatures…
Suddenly, a purple glow emanates from behind Străjer and at the same time, the same purple glow cascades out of the back and through a misty fog that has now covered the rampway. Some in the audience begin to howl… and then more join in.
Dr. Străjer: All of the adults in the audience… please hold your children close and do not take your eyes, for a SECOND, off of the figure that you will see here this evening. Because tonight?
As he says these words, the purple hue turns red and so too do the lights in the arena. A surprised Rafael Ortega looks around, confused, as – on the screen – a figure approaches from behind Dr. Străjer, his eyes burning with hunger, his hair gnarled and matted against his forehead and face as he bares his sharp teeth with a hideous smile.
Dr. Străjer: THE WOLF MAN FEEDS!
Suddenly, all the lights go out in the arena. The crowd lets out a chorus of screams and howls for several seconds before the lights come back up to reveal Dr. Străjer standing on the steel steps leading up to the ring and WOLF MAN hunched over in he same corner, knuckles to the mat and head ever so slightly raised.
Crowd: WOLF MAN! WOLF MAN! WOLF MAN!
Ortega begins to back up as Străjer raises his staff, and points it directly at WOLF MAN’s opponent. He calls out a single word that only WOLF MAN and Ortega can hear before slamming the staff on the steel steps twice, loudly, and then – after a pause – once more.
Then the bell rings.
WOLF MAN VS. Rafael Ortega
With the call of the bell, the crowd is on their feet cheering for WOLF MAN as Străjer makes his way up the steps and slides himself into the ring.
A dazed Rafael Ortega tries to sit himself up, holding a hand to his head and pulling back smears of blood. WOLF MAN raises his head, sniffing, as he turns his attention back to his prey.
Mark Kendrick: WOLF MAN isn’t finished playing with his dinner yet!
Străjer says something to WOLF MAN and then taps his cane twice, which causes WOLF MAN to snarl, but step back and fall to his haunches.
Maria Madden: Thank goodness that-
The crowd begins to boo as Străjer begins to walk WOLF MAN away from Ortega and out of the ring. Then, suddenly, someone in the audience begins to clap rhythmically.
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!
WOLF MAN looks up at the sound, pulling a confused Străjer back as he does. More people join in next.
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!
WOLF MAN howls and the crowd howls back. Străjer looks terrified as he slams his staff down on the mat twice. Getting WOLF MAN’s attention back on him.
Maria Madden: What the hell is going on, Mark?
Mark Kendrick: I think…. I think the fans want to see WOLF MAN finish what he started.
Maria Madden: Jesus… someone get Ortega out of there!
The crowd responds, even louder, this time.
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!
Străjer tries to pull WOLF MAN back, but he can’t in time before the beast leaps across the ring toward his prey. A terrified Rafael Ortega scrambles up and pushes referee Alex Campbell into WOLF MAN’s path, trying to escape.
WOLF MAN’s interia PLOWS him right through the ref, knocking him down and out. But it is just enough time for Ortega to escape. WOLF MAN snarls as he tries to find a way through the ropes but his rage overtakes his intelligence and he becomes tangled. The crowd is roaring, loving it, as Ortega bolts up the rampway and a furious Străjer rushes over and drives something in his hand into the back of WOLF MAN’s neck.
WOLF MAN turns and roars, leaping at Străjer and pinning him to the mat!
Mark Kendrick: OH SHIT!
WOLF MAN howls as he looks about ready to tear away at Străjer but we see his eyes begin to flutter. He sways from side to side and then just COLLAPSES off of a gasping Străjer .
The beast’s manager and master looks around the arena in awe as they furiously clap, trying to revive the now unconscious fighter. EMTs head into the ring to attend to a recovering Alex Campbell as Străjer looks down at WOLF MAN in a contorted mix of disappointment and awe… and yet, just briefly, we catch the slightest of smiles before we cut away from the ring.