Post by Stasis on Jul 26, 2010 22:19:40 GMT -5
“Death is inexorable, none can escape its grasp”.
The Darkside is a strange thing that few can comprehend and none (save one) can harness and allow their body to become a vessel for the evil, execrable energies of the “Darkside”. The Undertaker had never planned on leading the life he did, as a teenager he never foresaw himself as an avatar of evil, with a cadaverous appearance nor was he ever enthralled by the negative energies of death and affliction, but that was prior to the fire. Undertaker had planned on working hard in his father’s funeral parlour and through dedication and the support of a future wife, he would inherit the business and live a peaceful life atop a lush hill in a grassy meadow, but his ideal life and future dreams were incinerated by the sardonic flames that marked a turning point in his life. He had told the story many a time and the fans were aware of the turn of events, accounted from his own memory, how he and his younger brother obtained flammable chemicals from his fathers shed and how he couldn’t deny Kane, who was fascinated by the fire. The flames shot into the air in a plume of blue flame as soon as the match made contact with the grass, which was spattered in the chemicals. At first, the flames glowed merrily, bathing the brothers in an orange glow that entranced them and held the siblings to its blazing will while the fire gathered the means to grow. Without either one perceiving the rise in the intensity of the fire, the flames grew more formidable and scorched Kane, who fled into the house through the back door. The fires overcame him with ease and in his terror, Undertaker fled out into the yard, calling for his father who was within the confines of his home, unbeknownst to Undertaker. It hardly seemed a minute when Undertaker spun around to witness the entire house ablaze and in the pandemonium, Paul had the sense to call the fire brigade, but they arrived too late and their attempts to salvage what remained of the house in the hopes of finding something sentient within the remnants were in vain. The greedy flames devoured the house, wood and flesh alike and Undertaker did not care to pick the bones of the fires meal. Bearer’s accusing finger purged a hole in his heart as he spat out the words: “This is your fault! You’re a murderer!” Such an astringent word, Undertaker fled, running down the hill, fleeing his former life. He collapsed by the roadside, overcome with guilt and grief and splashed his face and washed his hands in the cool stream from the mountains northwards from his home, in the hopes of filling the pit in his stomach with rudimentary tasks. But the clear stream became a river of blood and his face and hands were stained in it, the sirens outside his charred and demolished home were bitter laughing voices and he receded into the woods, away from his nightmare. Winter was fast approaching and he felt vulnerable and unprotected in the bare woods, which had shed their branches to remove the canopy above and instead create an earthen carpet.
It was in those long nights, where he felt forsaken to the world, Paul’s word he uttered with disgust circulated his thoughts, reverberated in his ears: Murderer. He soon became numb to physical discomfort, a chilling breeze, a gushing wound, it meant nothing anymore, not when his soul was dying and his mind was broken, it was the first stage to succumbing to the Darkside. The other was a much more tedious one, but after months, maybe even years, he detached his mind from guilt and grief, he no longer felt the crippling emotions that tortured his soul for so long, but neither could he love or smile, in essence he had lost perhaps the greatest qualities a human possesses, the capacity to love, to be capable of empathy. He had become empty, no longer did the insidious emotions of the past gnaw him, but neither would he ever resurface as a man again. His soul, his human mind was usurped by a universal feeling of solemnity and draconian emotion. What he has grown to be suited him perfectly, he had finished the final stage of succumbing to the Darkside and chose only to be referred as “The Undertaker” for he had been bestowed with a relief from grief and near divine physical capabilities, but at the price of an eternity reaping the wayward souls of mankind, he desired a task that would fill the pit in his stomach and he now has forever to carry it out. The proceeding years were filled with miscreant and the constant presence of death, until an offer came forth, from Vincent Kennedy McMahon, to join his new federation, the World Wrestling Empire. Perhaps he had witnessed his power and brutality when he bludgeoned a victim in the ring before setting them six feet under, either way, this was the exposure he needed to further his lifelong task…….
As always at a venue that promises action from the world renowned promotion: World Wrestling Empire, the atmosphere outside the arena boisterous and a contrast to the repetitive grey of city life. Every city welcomed the promotion with open arms, for the introduced a dynamic show in which thousands roll out to witness. In the streets leading to the arena, independent sellers looking to pocket some extra money by selling past merchandise at cheap prices or current gear at an exorbitant price to the less parsimonious buyer line the footpaths. Posters of sizeable chunks of the Thy roster are against walls and a giant billboard sign adorns the westerly route to the arena. Truly, it is the wrestling fans utopia, they would see a myriad of the best in the world at their trade perform, they would partake in crowd banter and they would purchase authentic merchandise. The arena is always a friendlier, nicer place in the eyes of a vivacious fan, who when placed in a large group with similar energy, possess the capacity to become rambunctious under the best conditions. The environment and change the city has taken in the eventful night reflects the fans mood, with the vibrant smiling from above with a gold shimmer against the black canvas of the sky. The normally uninteresting district has come alive, with dazzling lights and a vast array of colours which engage the eye and only further the fans excitement as the bright atmosphere boosts their own. Thousands have congregated for the event and are brimming with anticipation as they queue at their designated stand of the arena while employees at the gates work tirelessly, collecting numerous ticket studs. Within the tall, strong walls of the structure is a wide hallway leading to a merchandise and snacks area, where hundreds amble around, purchasing programmes, t-shirts and an array of junk food to consume while they revel in the action. Many stand clasping their home made signs, which vary from gaudy signs portraying superstars to text signs appealing to a wry or vulgar sense of humour. But around the rear end of the large building, it’s all the same and has become rather lethargic and enervated for the employees of Thy WWE, who don’t partake in any action save the construction of the ring and the preparation of the electrical system. Monday Night Raw had become naught but the set up and its concomitant clear up, with a few hours interval to admire the athletes of Vince McMahon. Through the backdoor where superstars gain entrance to the arena is a labyrinth of bland, whitewashed hallways, some of which are designated for the electrical crew, for camera time and others merely lead to the superstar’s locker rooms. As usual, Undertaker’s prevailing locker room is within the furthest reaches of the stadium, down a long corridor. A shining gold star is emblazoned on the white painted door, a contrast to the state of the room behind the brass handle.
Through the cheap, plywood door is a room bathed in darkness, which conceals the imperfections of the room which has had very little added or subtracted from it. The two windows facing out into the streets which are bathed in the artificial, yellow glow of the street lamps are covered in dark sheeting, so to give The Phenom his supposedly ideal environment. Every other locker room, even the general locker room, which acted as a host to the lesser known superstars was more plush and decorated than Undertaker’s, but he would have it no other way. He didn’t need lavish flooring, or expensive leather sofas to cloud his perceptiveness or his concentration on the task at hand. The simple, dark room was where Undertaker felt at home, for it was where he could best replicate the night and have silence, which was reminiscent of the dim forest where he was forever lost as the boy who grew up in the funeral home, instead he became a manifestation of evil, an incarnation of death and such things were associated with black and solemnity and he was all to happy to conform with the stereotype, for why would he deprive himself of an environment where he came relatively close to comfort. Not only that, but the human mind is the best indication of what it fears and if such things that cause trepidation were infatuated with the darkness, he would envelope himself in its macabre embrace. The only seating in the dark room is a metal, four legged chair with a hard plastic backing and Undertaker is seated upon it. The Lord of Darkness’s hair has its normal, oily appearance and is draped over his face, to the front, right and left, concealing his already widely recognised features. Undertaker is already clothed in his wrestling attire, consisting of black, pleather tights with white symbols of bad omen, like different variations of tombstones up his leg. His upper body is concealed for the most part in a pleather tank top, which is tucked into his tights, which in turn are booted in dark leather boots, which would reflect the light if it were present in any embodiment in the locker room. Undertaker’s gloved hands are clasped and bent at the elbow, which is restricted slightly by a dark elbow pad, which is flexing as the joint is bent. Undertaker’s entire attire enshrouds him in the darkness and he becomes naught but a shadow in the darkness, a visual occurrence which portrays his resemblance to the darkness, both physically and psychologically. The Phenom’s breathing is of short, sharp exhales through the nose, followed by a long inhale as his mind gets around his opponents. He pondered their weaknesses and was attempting to breach the likes of Tyler Marshall’s iron, disciplined psyche and Orton’s troubled, jumbled up mind to unravel both mans greatest fear and weakness. In states such as this, The Deadman always gave momentary thought to the fact that the human mind is the source of all their strengths, yet at the same time it is their greatest weakness….
The inner balance of the human consciousness is a fine one, like the paradox created by “good” and “evil”. Undertaker was hated for his brutality and his pernicious ways of reaping the souls of the living, but he merely plays his part as a force of evil, delivering the inexorable fate of death to man. Yet men do not realise that without the things that they fear and hate, there cannot be the things they love and cherish. Surely, without anything to fear and loath, there is nothing to truly appreciate and cling to, Undertaker’s practices may be frowned upon, but it granted him inner peace and an eternal task to relieve his mind from the grief of long ago and through it, he brings joy and sorrow, love and hate. The shallow minded people who line the stands in the arena are too naïve and obstinate in their opinion of death and evil to realise that he is both a symbol of love and hate, happiness and death and that his title and his popularity is a matter of personal perspective, yet none choose to take a look from the other angle and see what he truly is. Instead, Undertaker’s popularity stems from a collective desire to consume CM Punk in the blazing fires of his indignation from a sneak attack months ago. Hordes of fans have flocked to The Phenom’s banner since he had victory in the Royal Rumble and the possibility of vengeance at Wrestlemania would deliver the WWE Universe from the tyrannous reign of forced “purity” from CM Punk. Tonight he would be cheered loudly for what is to come, but tonight is not about the current WWE champion, it is about his two opponents in a Triple Threat match, Randy Orton and Tyler J. Marshall, both of whom he has faced prior to this edition of Raw. Neither of whom have the foresight to see the freight train that is set to run them out of the water, neither man will take heed when Undertaker heralds the coming storm with words later tonight, for both men are so consumed in themselves, they will not envisage their collective peril. Orton and Marshall’s offence will be like water upon rock, diluted by their personal shortcomings and affairs. Orton will be occupied by his inadequacy as a father and a spouse while Marshall will ponder the changes coming over his friend, Eric James and the difficulties faced by his “brother”, Brian Blades and through his ignorance to the match, he will fail to see the striking blow that will seal his fate. With the thought that he is going to enlighten Randy Orton and Tyler Marshall on true pain and ruthlessness, he raises himself up as he would from a squat with slow, seamless form, just like a zombie or some being of the undead would do so. The Phenom is perpendicular to the door into the corridor, which interlinks to eventually bear a walker to the curtain that conceals the backstage area from the fans prying eyes, lest they see what is occurring behind the scenes and have the suspense robbed of them. Undertaker pulls down on the slightly discoloured, brass handle and as he draws back, the utter darkness recedes into a corner as the light from the incandescent light bulb in the hallway purges the room of the gloom and awakens the locker room from its slumber. Slowly, Undertaker pushes the door so the wood makes contact with the doorframe and the plywood object makes a hollow thud as it’s fully ajar. With one great stride, Undertaker has left the room behind him and in a fluid motion shuts the door to his rear. The long corridor stretches outwards and links with another which is moving horizontally to where Undertaker is now. The Phenom walks down the corridor with his heavy leather boots sending thuds echoing down the hallway, as a herald of sorts to his coming. Undertaker reaches the end of the hallway and swivels on the ball of his foot, following the laminated white sign, with a red arrow pointing left and black text which reads: “To Arena”.
The arena is a haze of vivacity which overwhelms all the senses at once, creating a wrestling euphoria of sorts. Fans have wide smiles at the array colours in the graphics on the titantron, the arena lights in the rafters and the entrance ramp, which is dotted with glittering lights leading to the squared circle. Hearing is bombarded by the shouts of fellow Thy WWE fanatics and loud music blaring over the speakers in an attempt to keep the crowd relatively occupied before the commencement of the widely viewed and renowned show of Raw. Each fans voice seems to melt into a collective cry for the beginning of the show and each and every star that isn’t in the popularity book that appears on the titantron is booed stridently. Even touch and smell are affected, with the feeling of the fibres of newly bought WWE t-shirts and the scent of the sterile air, mixed with the plastic recently purchased World Wrestling Empire merchandise. The fans incessant screaming and constant noise level gives a profound, new angle to the idea of the World Wrestling Empire. It all resembles the Roman system of old, with Vince McMahon as the Emperor and over half a hundred men battle to achieve fame and glory, with the others being laid to waste in the process. The fans become bloodthirsty plebians and patricians, who are tumultuous in the ever ascending columns, which seat thousands of Thy WWE’s fan base on this night. The paying fans are restless, for they wish to get their moneys worth as soon as possible and croon for the beginning of the gladiatorial contest. Perhaps is explains the belligerence of new athletes, who will do anything to ascend a little higher in the food chain, for the lower down you are, the easier it is to fall out of the Emperor’s favour. But when it begins, the gladiators will walk to battle, some have the audiences favour and others are jeered profusely until they reach the ring, which is sacred ground amongst the fellow wrestlers of the company. The vibrant red ropes of the ring (which conceal painful steel cable) and a stainless, white canvas give the ring a healthy look and perhaps foresight that the matches will replicate the high standard of the ring. From the middle of the ring, there is an awe-inspiring view of a multitude of fans packed into hundreds of rows in all four corners of the arena, but it is all too often that the last a newcomer sees of the arena is the rafters as he is planted on his back with no more fight left in him. Jim Ross and Jerry Lawler have witnessed it on many an occasion and are seated in their standard position, just outside the northern end of the ring with personal monitors to capture all the action and the atmosphere with rampant fans mere feet to their rear. Jerry Lawler is sporting a custom made t-shirt and has an impish twinkle in his bright eyes which says hi incessant nonsensical comments are going to be in abundance tonight, giving his broadcast partner, Jim Ross hell for over two hours of live programming. Jim Ross is wearing his signature black cowboy hat coupled is a marine blue shirt with the Thy WWE logo set upon it. JR’s headset is hidden under his cowboy hat, as is his hair, unlike Jerry Lawler, who’s greasy, gelled hair has the headset running through it. As the camera runs over to the regulatory Monday Night Raw announcing team, both men open up their bodies and wear a look of focus as they realise it’s time to speak to the camera.
Jim Ross
Hello ladies and gentlemen around the world, we’re all geared up for another great episode of Monday Night Raw, with myself, Jim Ross and my broadcast partner Jerry “The King” Lawler at the helm. With this Raw being the last before our Pay Per View this month, Summerslam is imminent, where McMahon has informed us that there will be numerous title defences and an interbrand three versus three match. But with the coming of Summerslam we all know what’s just around the corner, the big one, Wrestlemania.Jerry Lawler
Oh boy JR! I can’t wait until Wrestlemania, it’s Thy WWE’s equivalent of the Super Bowl and it’s the one night where anything is on the table and a superstar is willing to break themselves in half to claim that Wrestlemania victory. Not only that, but this is the first ever Wrestlemania of the World Wrestling Empire!Jim Ross
That’s true King, but there is another factor added to the debut of Wrestlemania here in Thy WWE, all past accomplishments are made redundant in this new promotion. Sure, you can brag about past accolades, but as far as the book stops here, you’ve done nothing at Wrestlemania. That means Undertaker’s streak, Triple H’s title defence at Wrestlemania 2000…….it means nothing.Jerry Lawler
This is the perfect opportunity to add a twist to Wrestlemania and revolutionize it in its new home! Why can’t Maven amass a streak at Wrestlemania and what’s stopping Sheamus winning the gold on the grandest stage of them all. No one is bound by past accomplishments and nothing is off limits, oh boy I can’t wait!Jim Ross
[/center] Wrestlemania truly is a spectacle, but we’ll have to wait because there are still a few hurdles in Summerslam and moreover tonight’s Raw to traverse. The card for tonight is an impressive one, with a triple threat match between Undertaker, Randy Orton and Tyler Marshall as well as a WWE Title match between CM Punk and current number one contender: Triple H. Current WWE Champion CM Punk has been dominant of late, defeating the very man he is facing tonight in Triple H and sending strong words from the ring to Undertaker regarding a Wrestlemania bout. Perhaps Punk’s words have sealed his fate, maybe tonight is the night we learn who Undertaker is facing at Wrestlemania.[/color]Jerry Lawler
[/center] My money’s on CM Punk, JR. Undertaker and Maven may have some history with one another from the early days of Thy WWE, within weeks of the inception of Mr McMahon’s new industry, but Punk has taken it to a personal level and is rubbing it in the Deadman’s face! Not a smart move.[/color]Jim Ross
[/center] Certainly not, but before Undertaker can lay his hands on Raw’s champion, he’ll have to overcome two other big competitors in Marshall and Orton and then on to Summerslam before the opportunity at CM Punk is presented to him, event then, Punk may not last to Triple H, who has a shot tonight! We’ll be hearing from The Undertaker and others, when Raw returns.[/color]The camera pans backwards and the mesh of colours from t-shirts, the announcers table and the steel barricades melt into a sheer black background with a Thy WWE logo rippling upon it, as though the logo on the screen were a flag. What follows in the time where most likely left their viewing chairs for a toilet break or to fetch themselves snacks were seemingly interminable, monotonous adverts from various World Wrestling Empire and network sponsors. After three to four minutes of advertisements, the rippling Thy WWE logo returns, followed by the signature theme for Raw “Step Up” by Drowning Pool playing in the background. The camera doesn’t return to the announcing duo but rather explores the stands, which are lined with fervent fans, brandishing a variety of signs and wearing current and former World Wrestling Empire merchandise. The fans seem very much divided in their alignment tonight, with a large disposition of the fan base split between The Undertaker and Randy Orton, two of the biggest names on Raw and a couple of the most widely followed superstars in the entire corporation. A wide assortment of well planned, well made signs line the stands, so many in fact, that at periods the west wing of the arena looks to a have a white wall which has been vandalised with various text. The huge array of signs are a testament to the popularity of every star, the dedication of the Thy WWE fans and even an attempt to prevent the desensitization of the arena with bland, grey chairs and symmetrical stands. Tonight, Thy WWE invades with exciting pyrotechnics, lights and fan made material. The camera reassumes its position overlooking the stage, only risking a few seconds off its designated spot with the fans for something is set to occur imminently.
Suddenly, without any warning, the arena lights fail and the entire set for Monday Night Raw plunges into a thick darkness, which fans attempt to purge with fleeting camera flashes that do nothing to unveil the vast arena. With one of the five vital sense blotted out, hearing sharpens within the arena and the shrieks of anticipation and cheers are heightened as the fans anticipate the arrival of the Phenom.
GONG
The fans erupt into huge cheers at the sound of Undertaker’s vintage gong, which is always the harbinger of The Phenom. Another gong reverberates around the arena and the utter blackness is lessened by a deep blue light, which bathes the stage, entrance ramp and ring ramp in an enchanting glow. A bright spotlight pierces a small circle in the artificial night of The Undertaker to make The Reaper’s coming more visible to the paying fans and the cameras broadcasting worldwide. With a rumbling clap of thunder and the patter of rain against a solid surface adds further to the atmosphere of a dark night. The squeal of an organ becomes increasingly audible as the gong tolls on while The Undertaker’s titantron sequence begins to play on the big screen, beginning with a shadowy cross against a pitch black, cloud ridden sky, which is masking the eye of the moon. By this stage, the fans have witnessed Undertaker’s entrance so frequently it’s axiomatic as to what happens next and moments after the clear note sung by an angelic choir begins to fade to silence, the organ in Undertaker’s “Graveyard Symphony” begins to ring out clearly through the speakers. Then, as expectation begins to brim, the song reaches its full intensity and a shape that is naught but a silhouette, veiled in shadow steps out from behind the Gorilla position. The powerful spotlight moves upwards and casts the cloaks of shadow from the figure, revealing Undertaker, who is entering in attire similar to his “Western Mortician” era, but with slightly more modernised materials and design. The Undertaker steps forward, with his long trench coat swirling about his ankles at his trademark pace. The “Funeral Dirge” draws on as Undertaker’s shoulder bob back and forth with the natural movement of his body in motion, which is only a notch swifter than John Morrison in his slow motion segment during his own entrance. At his vintage tempo, Undertaker rounds the security railing and takes a few more paces before turning to face the steel steps, which are normally dazzling, reflecting the bright lights of the arena, but their erratic, sonorous appearance is mollified momentarily by the introduction of the darkness. With some deliberation, Undertaker ascends the steel steps, making each extension of the leg look as slow and reminiscent of a zombies movement as possible. At the foot of the steel steps where Undertaker’s heel is on cold steel and the front of his foot is set upon the apron. In a slow motion, Undertaker begins to raise his two arms towards the rafters and with this movement, light is restored perpendicular to the height of The Phenom’s arms. As Undertaker’s limbs reach their peak, he rolls his eyes to the back of his skull, as though he were cutting some supernatural force that controls the lights to leave the current lighting on, which illuminates the entire arena. Undertaker holds his pose and for a moment almost has a peremptory look about him and a demeanour filled with dark glory. The fans are letting loose unbridled cheers, which are even composed of the Randy Orton fans, who are willing to cheer until Undertaker enters the ring as Orton’s nemesis later on tonight. Undertaker rests his hand on the ring rope and runs it along the ropes as he walks across the apron before swinging his leg over the middle rope and entering the ring while using that same hand to make sure his hat stays intact with his head while he bends down into the ring.
Inside the ring there is already a microphone resting upon the apron to give Undertaker means to amplify his voice above the cheers without the hassle of requesting one from the Timekeeper outside the ring, to the left of Jim Ross and Jerry Lawler. Undertaker walks over to the microphone and stands over it, looking left and right to the fans, who cheer and roar that he “pick it up!” After a few moments to build suspense, The Deadman cocks his head down sharply for him to look at the microphone and grasps it firmly with his right hand. As Undertaker turns to the cameras, he instinctively raises his left arm to gesticulate and really hammer his message home to the WWE Universe who are present in the arena and watching the action from the comfort of their own sofa. An “Undertaker” chant goes up and The Phenom is forced to pause for a moment before proceeding in his promo:
Undertaker
[/center] WWE Universe....Creatures of the Night. I stand before you tonight with ardour burning inside me, for CM Punk is ever prevalent on my mind following his words last Monday regarding the WWE Championship and myself. So Tyler Marshall, Randy Orton, you can say what you will, bring your “A” game to the ring tonight, but it will not deliver you from your inexorable fate, to fall by the hand of The Phenom, an incensed and vengeful Phenom! But speaking of CM Punk, the majority of his spiteful, foolish words were in anticipation of the first ever Wrestlemania here in Thy WWE. So for the sake of anticipation, I look to Summerslam, where I am one of the faces, one of the franchise players in a three on three, inter-brand contest to prove the dominant bran. I look ahead to Wrestlemania, where it’s set in stone that the indomitable Phenom will challenge either the Smackdown World Heavyweight Champion or the Raw WWE Champion. While Summerslam is right in front of me, I can’t help but extend my gaze to August, where I will have revenge and there will be indignation and where either the WWE Champion or the World Heavyweight Champion invariably falls to The Undertaker! For there is a reason that I have been dubbed with the moniker of: “The Phenom”. The Undertaker has always been and shall always remain the most revered and feared force in the business, CM Punk has bitten off more than he can chew in the most prevailing and powerful superstar in Thy WWE’s short, but nonetheless start studded history.[/color]There is a short round of applause for Undertaker as he lowers the microphone and alternates the microphone from his right hand to his left hand. Undertaker takes a long draught of air to compose himself before he moves on to a topic that looks to bear great significance to him, at least in the short term.
Undertaker
[/center] Now I move on to the first of my two opponents for the evening, Tyler Jayceon Marshall, a former US Marine who has already fallen victim to my all conquering in ring prowess. Naturally, Tyler Marshall has an aura about him that demands a certain degree of respect and perhaps even fear. But as a higher power, with a fixed task on a mission to have vindication, I am in the desirable position, Marshall can argue that he has experienced real fear in the front lines with his troops, but in truth he may have suffered mental and physical anguish from the brute force of his enemies, but never in his entire life as Tyler encountered a psychologist such as myself, I sold my self to evil long ago and have become an incarnation of terrible deed and power, I uncover my opponents weakness with my domineering will and mind of steel. Tyler Marshall, as a part of the American forces, you’re accustomed to attack and patrol, you’ve never had to survive on your own in the ring against myself. So through my conquering will and imposing physique, I will neutralise your military training and leave you as prey enclosed in a twenty by twenty foot enclosure. I may represent a large chunk of this fan base, but by now they realise I’m not their knight in shining armour, I’m their demon of vengeance and I will be rancorous inside the ring with you Marshall and you’ll wish you’d stuck with a former profession, for when your breathing shallows and I seal you inside a body bag, you will realise your erroneous, vacuous ways. Obviously, Mr McMahon didn’t realise his mistake when he pitted you against myself and my forced partner, Triple H in the main event of Raw, weeks ago, so it will be my duty to make certain that you never trouble me or this promotion again, by incarcerating you in an earthen cell along with my other “famous” victims over the years, Dolph Ziggler, Kane and even Hulk Hogan. You know, Marshall, I think that the World Wrestling Empire needs to become more like the military, at least there, fresh blood such as yourself starts at the bottom and learns humility. You clearly need a re-introduction to your training and will be battered out of contention if you survive the onslaught that is a match with The Phenom. Tonight, Tyler Jayceon Marshall, you will be taught humility, tonight you will learn true trepidation, you shall feel it innately in my mere presence and tonight, you will REST IN PEACE![/color]The WWE fans cheer at deafeningly at Undertaker’s above statement and the earnest Undertaker fans out there start a “Rest In Peace” chant in the stands, that circulates all throughout the arena, from up in the “cheap seats” to below in the standing area of the arena. Some may think that the fans present in the arena are auspicious towards the Phenom, but in truth, Marshall would elicit the same reaction if he spoke of Undertaker in a similar fashion. As the chants of the WWE Universe gradually subsides, Undertaker swallows hard, his laryngeal prominence defined in his throat as he considers his next phase of speech:
Undertaker
[/center] Now to my other aggressor for the evening, Randy Orton. Orton is perhaps the most insidious and pernicious opponent I have encountered in my time here in the World Wrestling Empire. But it seems Orton’s rise towards the top of the business will be short lived, as the recent loss to the Celtic Champion, Sheamus will signal the turning point for Orton, who’s fall from grace has commenced a week prior to tonight and will be furthered when I drop his skull on the remorseless ring canvas. However, I’m not underestimating Randy, for that would be a grievous mistake and is perhaps the period in which he is most lethal, when he fades from thought and then he lunges forward like a snake, clenching his arms around your throat like the gripping fangs of a Viper, then plunging downwards, injecting the poisonous RKO, yes he is formidable. But Randy, one thing that troubles my mind when I contemplate you, is the fact that you portray yourself as a twisted, capricious monster, who is capable of anything and can be expected to do nothing. When in truth Randy, you an angered man, who is venting his frustrations as an incompetent father and spouse to his supposedly “betrothed” Samantha, who has clung on to your fragile relationship to keep your children’s lives stable. Nothing has happened to torture your soul Randy, in fact, you spent much of your life going to wrestling shows with your father and growing up in the “good life”. Your entire dark and troubled persona is a mask you put up to shroud your ineptitude in mystery, but my will has perceived the truth and you are reduced to a fleeting shadow in comparison to what you once were in my mind. Tonight Randy, I will give you a portion of the Darkside and my overwhelming physical and mental advantage and that glimpse of reality, that feeling of true darkness will devour you and force the once high and mighty Orton to drop to his belly and slither on the canvas. But when you do what you do Orton, cowering behind opponents, sliding and lying on the canvas has earned you the moniker of “The Viper”, but it isn’t something to be proud of, Randy. A snake will only strike against something weaker than itself or when it’s backed into a corner, your reluctance to directly engage me shows your trepidation and your submissiveness, your snake like attitude informs me I am the better in ring competitor. They call you “The Viper”, Randy, but after I have finished introducing you to my vindictive and dark side, you will become meek and reminiscent of a grass snake, who slithers hidden in the grass, for fear of showing your face or being driven into the mat with a skull crushing Tombstone! Tonight is the night that the “Age of Orton” collapses and comes to an abrupt halt, Randy Orton’s inexorable fate is sealed, to fall by my hand, to REST IN PEACE![/color]Undertaker lowers the microphone, but it isn’t long before he has it back at his mouth after switching hands, for it seems his next subject matter is of great connotation.
Undertaker
[/center] Now the highfalutin CM Punk, the current WWE Champion. He has certainly loosened his tongue of late and let his mouth write him out a check that is going to put him overdue a hellacious beating at Wrestlemania. I witnessed your little message of “self professed” message of purity, yet another message where these “obstinate fans” choose to disregard the truth you preach to them. Really Punk, you should keep your forked tongue behind your teeth for it does more harm to you than you can imagine. The only truth I heard you speak last Monday was that I have officially returned and that I have notched up a victory over you already in a tag match, that alone must’ve dented your self confidence and you need your ego and conceited demeanour to deliver your message of Straight Edge with the maximum chance unveiling your treachery and making an enemy out of the entire WWE Universe. You may think you spoke faithfully when you said I “screw around with death” and that I’m “a judge” in professional wrestling, but do you really think my task is bound by the limits of the World Wrestling Empire? My transition to the Darkside has given me the authority to give death where it’s suited and to fill my part as the force of evil in the good and evil paradox, my role extends wrestling to a point where it grants some form of inner stability. I cannot say the same for your Straight Edge way of living, it hasn’t granted you peace, for you have grown greedy and want more than a cult following, you want power and that’s your addiction, CM Punk. Mockery won’t satisfy my blazing fires of revenge, Punk. Mocking my signature pose and consoling yourself with the thoughts that the WWE Championship renders you untouchable when in truth, it makes you more vulnerable than you can imagine, the entire roster has a lust for gold and is doesn’t come any shinier than the title on your shoulder. But really CM Punk, I’m aware of what is occurring inside that unstable mind of yours, you’ve finally realised that you lacked the foresight to protect yourself from your actions and you have incurred the indignation of The Phenom and in your last moments as a free, safe man, you’ve gone delirious with power, drunk on the image of the WWE Championship and addicted to its gold shimmer. You’re aware I’ve already felled you in a contest, it may have been with a multitude of other athletes, but you are aware of your shortcomings and it shall devour you along with the trepidation, the fear of what is to come. My indomitable will, my all conquering mind is pressing down on yours, Punk. I even feel your own will to go on dying, you are succumbing to defeat before Wrestlemania and come that faithful eve, when The Undertaker regains his championship you will recede into the shadows and you’ll never dare to trouble me again, like a scolded dog, for you are naught but a dog in comparison to me Punk, an inferior being who is overdue a hellacious beating for his erroneous ways and fallacious message. Your message is false Punk, for you are a hypocrite, blasting each and every member of the World Wrestling Empire Universe for their addictions, when you yourself are addicted to power, you regularly binge on your ego, which you need to feed often, by coming into the ring with another one of your “self inspired” and “truthful” Straight Edge prophecies. You are so addicted by your own ego, you would do anything to get your next high, even seal myself in a casket to claim the one thing you desired most, but time is short, CM Punk and Wrestlemania draws ever nearer with each passing hour. Your obdurate, deleterious ways, which is eating up the promotion through the degradation from your ego, but you will be punished for you ways and you will stop feeding off this company, Vince has a parasite as a champion, but he will soon be purged of it, when CM Punk RESTS IN PEACE!!!![/color]The fans are ebullient at the thought of a World Wrestling Empire without CM Punk and profess these feeling through adamant cheers, which fill the arena in a collective desire to oust Punk. Undertaker allows the microphone to fall from his grasp and create a thud on the arena canvas, which echoes through the arena speakers, but it’s barely audible anyway with the massive cheers of the crowd, who chant The Undertaker’s name as he raises his arms slowly and as they reach their peak, the sound of thunder and lighting sounds and Undertaker’s eerie blue lighting system replaces the perfectly illuminated arena. Then, with his music playing halfway through the song to avoid the slow build up at the beginning of the song, Undertaker bends beneath the middle and top rope before jumping to the apron and making his way up the entrance ramp towards the backstage area. But as Undertaker reaches the stage, he pauses momentarily before throwing up his right arm, sending fire gushing from three separate places in the stage, rising in thin jets of flame before inflating into a mushroom shape at the top before fading into smoke and invisibility to the naked eye. Undertaker stands with his hand held aloft at the top of the stage for a few moments before throwing it down to the sound of yet more thunder and as his limb returns to his side, the titantron lights up and The Phenom disappears backstage. Upon the grand screen is a caption of two tombstones set a few meters apart from each other, standing over an open grave. Everything is about them is identical but the name inscription and the epitaph, a voice sounds over the intercom:
”This is the fate of Randy Orton and Tyler Marshall….to rest……iiiinnnnn……Peeaaace”.
[/color]As the sound waves of the deep, resonating voice fade into oblivion, the arena lights return and all commences as it were before the introduction of The Lord of Darkness. The camera switches over to Jim Ross and Jerry Lawler, who look to be adjusting their eyes to the constant change of light, their iris and ciliary muscles working overtime. Jim Ross is the first to speak as the camera centres on the dynamic duo, who have been faithful to the World Wrestling Empire since the first day of the promotion.
Jim Ross
Well there you have it folks, The Undertaker has spoken words of omen for each of his opponents and says he will deliver CM Punk his inexorable fate, as good an indicator as any that he will be facing CM Punk at Wrestlemania!Jerry Lawler
[/center] That would be a fantastic match, but what about those words Undertaker had for Orton, it’s scary how he sees through people like that and even more unnerving that he is going to reduce Orton to nothing, to a “grass snake” in comparison to the Viper he is at the moment.[/color]Jim Ross
[/center] Giants are sure to cross tonight when these three heavy hitters encounter each other in the squared circle and it’s set to be a match brimming with intensity and top quality action! Monday Night Raw will be back with more faces on the mic and plenty of superstars in the ring, don’t go away![/color]There’s a slight grin on the face of Jim Ross as the camera focuses in on Raw’s chief play-by-play commentator before cutting to another arduous commercial break, which is commenced by another World Wrestling Empire logo, which reacts as a flag would, fluttering in the breeze. In a few moments, Monday Night Raw will return from its break…..
EORP
(OOC: Extremely rushed towards the end. Please get the clocks right, I panicked a little on this one!)
