Post by Syn on Apr 24, 2013 3:58:41 GMT -5
Jonathon Holland sighed as he continued down the long stretch of road in rural Los Angeles, wondering exactly what it was he was doing, and how he allowed himself to be talked into doing it. Less than a few hours after the PCW event here, he had been essentially ordered by his best friend, The Reigning PCW World Heavyweight Champion, to follow a specific car after it left the arena for the remainder of their time in LA. The car was a Green and Black Mustang GT. He had done as asked and followed the vehicle as best as he could, and nearly lost it several times in the process. He was now following it down out a long, narrow road, trying to stay at a distance while he kept visual using a pair of binoculars. While he could pretend that he didn’t know who owned the car or who was inside, Jonathan wouldn’t. He knew all too well who it was who was inside. The man solely responsible for the drastic change that his best friend had gone through. The man who haunted Jay’s every waking moment up until a point with his stalking and attacks.
Jonathan: Syn….
Jonathan repressed a shiver at the thought of the man’s name. He couldn’t understand just how one human being could do some of the things this guy has done, most of them done in an attempt to get into Jay’s head. He’s stalked him, beaten him, kidnapped him, and a list of other offenses that just seem impossible for one man to be able to accomplish. And yet he has. Somehow, that….whatever he is, has done it seemingly at will. It was horrifying to think about. Jonathan’s musing s were cut short as the car slowly started to slow down, causing him to look down in confusion.
Jonathan: What the….? The hell is this?
The car continued to slow down on its own, before it came to a complete stop on the side of the road. Jonathan tried to start it back up again, but the effort was in vain. He didn’t get it. Why would the car just suddenly stop out of the blue? He had filled it with gas before they went to the arena. He had checked everything this morning to make sure that it was all working. So why would the car choose now of all times to crap out on him? Sighing in frustration, he got out of the car and took out his cell phone to call Jay and tell him what happened. He froze, however when he looked at the screen of his phone. It was dead. Now he was starting to become very afraid, his mind just coherent enough to notice that this scene was eerily familiar.
It was almost exactly what happened in Louisville, down to the very setting.
Jonathan: Ok, j-just relax. This is all just one big coincidence……
Suddenly, as these words left his lips, he once again found himself silenced by what happened next. Almost as quickly as he uttered the sentence, a haze of fog rolled in, obscuring his view of anything beyond where he was standing. He backed against the car as he rapidly began looking around, trying to see if he could spot something coming out of the dense fog. His pulse began to skyrocket as he tried desperately to peer out into the fog, allowing his mind to sink deeper and deeper into paranoia. His breathing sped up as he tried to ease his way back into the car, when something caught his attention. There seemed to be something moving within the fog, slowly drifting off in the distance. It seemed to be slowly gliding towards him. He tried to peer out to see what it was, but could not clearly see exactly who…. Or what the mysterious object was.
Jonathan Holland: Who’s there?
Slowly but surely, he could make out what looked to be silhouette of someone standing off in the darkness, staring in his direction. Jonathon frowned in concern, before he called out to the person.
Jonathon: Hello? Is someone there?
Just as quickly as the shadow appeared, it seemed to fade away, almost as if there was nothing there at all. Jon quickly began looking around, wondering exactly what the hell was going on around him. His eyes darted back and forth as he checked for any sigh of life. This was starting to get very freaky very fast, all because he agreed to trail one guy. Jon turned and noticed, to his ever-growing horror, that another figure appeared within the ominous fog, this one walking towards him. Unconsciously, he started to back up as the figure seemingly got closer and closer to him.
Jonathon: St-stay back! I’m warning you!
The figure suddenly stopped, and much like it had before, it seemed to fade into the fog as if it was not there to begin with. Jonathon felt his breathing become rapid as he continued to look around, the paranoia finally sitting in as he realized that he was not alone. Just as Jon ‘s fear began to escalate, the mysterious fog began to dispel. He looked around for a moment, unsure of what just happened or how it happened, before he gave a weak sigh.
Jonathon: Maybe it was all just in my head….
Just as Jon uttered these words, a soft, sinister voice spoke up, right in his ear, causing him to freeze on the spot and his blood to run cold.
?: Or maybe..... you’re in far more trouble than your mind can begin to realize.
Slowly, Jon turned around, and came face to face with the very person who is solely responsible for the transformation of his best friend. Syn smiled at Jon in dark amusement as he crossed his arms over his chest.
Syn: Hmm…..now, where have I seen this before, hmm?
Syn’s eyes lit up slightly as his smile turned positively evil.
Syn: Oh yes……this is almost exactly how this entire little situation between myself and Jordan started almost 4 months ago. The only difference in the matter is that he’s not here…..and that I’m not holding a tire iron in my hand, poised to bludgeon you within an inch of your life. But enough about that bit of business…
Jon seemed to be trapped by the dark, almost amused gaze of the otherworldly green eyes staring right into his own as he tried to move, yet found that he couldn’t.
Syn: Hello, Jonathon…. You look a bit surprised to see me. Why?
Jonathon tried to sound out a reply, but was unable to speak as Syn took a step forward, causing him to instinctively take a step back in fear. He recalled all too well what happened the last time that he was in this position. How Syn had come out of thin air seemingly and he ended up being beaten with a tire iron. He continued to take steps away from the man in front of him as he kept advancing towards him, giving him a curious look.
Syn: Could it be that you’ve done something wrong…?
Jon backed up against the car, fear pouring off of him in waves as this madman continued to walk towards him. He closed his eyes and looked away as Syn reached a pale hand out towards him. He silently prayed that whatever Syn did to him, he made it quick and painless. He did not want for him to drag it out as he did the last time. Jonathan suddenly felt something being pulled from his neck, before he cracked one of his eyes open to see what he had done. His eyes widened slightly as he saw the binoculars that he was using just a moment ago to tail Syn were now in his hands. Syn inspected it closely, before he looked up at Jonathon.
Syn: [Softly] Interesting thing to be carrying with you on the road, Mr. Holland. Even if we’re in the backwater dregs of Hollywood... were you attempting to catch a would be star at this ungodly hour?
Jonathon stayed silent as Syn’s expression turned into a sinister one as he tossed the pair of binoculars up slightly, before catching them.
Syn: It is very odd that these were found in your possession here of all places, Mr. Holland. Especially when there is visibly nothing in sight but the road that you and I are on. Why, if someone were to catch you with this…..
Jonathan finally snapped to at the thinly veiled threat, knowing that Syn knew exactly why he had them. Somehow, some way, he knew, and he was toying with him until he either got tired of it or he fessed up to it. He was not about to give him that pleasure. Not today. Jonathan turned and went to attempt to run, when Syn cut him off with words.
Syn: Ah ah ah. I don’t think running would be the best thing for you to attempt at the moment. You see, I would let you go…..but I don’t think they would show you the same courtesy….
Jonathon’s fear was momentarily replaced with confusion, which made itself known as he gave Syn an uneasy look.
Jonathon: They…..?
Syn smirks, before he points over Jonathon’s shoulder, towards the car. Jon slowly turned his head slightly as he followed Syn’s line of sight, and turned pale at what he saw. Standing on top and around his car, were four figures, who much like Syn he hadn’t seen or heard come this close to him. All four were dressed in trench coats that covered up most of their bodies, and creepy clown masks covering their faces. Syn’s smirk widened as all four quietly got off of the car, and slowly began walking over to them, cutting off any chance of escape that Jonathon may have had ahead of him.
Syn: These are my….personal little band of clowns, Mr. Holland. And much like myself, they do not take too kindly to me having my privacy being tarnished by a lackey of an arrogant little ponce who can’t be bothered to send someone more….competent, to attempt to spy on me.
His green eyes flashed for a moment in minor annoyance, before he slowly reached out and placed a hand on Jonathon’s shoulder, causing the man to freeze on contact.
Syn: Now, the question is….what shall I do with you now that I’ve caught you, hmm? I can’t very well just let you go and think that this is an acceptable thing to do….
Syn thought for a moment as his grip on Jonathon’s shoulder tightened, causing him to bite down a yelp of pain as Syn spoke to himself.
Syn: Suppose I could give you another good beating as a refresher of exactly WHY it is never a good idea in any sense to draw my ire……but that only seems to make people foolishly continue to do so. I’ll never understand why….
Syn’s grip tightened even more, bringing Jonathon to his knees as he tried to paw his hand off of his shoulder before he did any serious damage. Syn suddenly smiled, before he released Jonathan’s shoulder.
Syn: I’m not going to hurt you, Mr. Holland, on the contrary. I’m…going to give you the opportunity to win your freedom and safety.
As the words left Syn’s mouth, Jonathon gave him a weary gaze. The offer sounded too good to be true. He had him at his mercy to torture, maim, and whatever else his mind seemed to be able to think up. Yet he said he was going to give him a chance to earn his freedom. No strings attached or anything. He cautiously looked at Syn, before he spoke.
Jonathon: ….What do I have to do?
Syn’s eyes lit up and he gave a small smirk, before he reached into the pocket of his trench coat and pulled out a coin. His smirk widened, before he held it up for Jonathon to see.
Syn: We’re going to play a little game of chance. You’ll flip this coin –
Syn turned the coin to where the face side was in plain view.
Syn: - five times if necessary. If you manage to get it to land face side up three times of the five, then you’ve won your freedom. I’ll allow you to leave, and neither myself nor my “Clowns” will pursue or harm you in any way, shape or form. You’ll escape from this with no punishment…
His smirk turned dark as he turned it over to the tail side.
Syn: …. However, if it should land on the tails side three times of the five….well, you’ll come with me. No complaining. No bargaining. No pleading for your release from my company. You will spend the next several hours taking whatever punishment that my mind can conjure up for the likes of you, and you will do so of your own accord. Understand, Mr. Holland?
Jonathan: I….don’t have much of a choice in this, do I?
Syn chuckles at that.
Syn: You COULD always say no….. and My “Clowns” could do away with you right here and be done with it. But that isn’t exactly fair for you, or fun for me now is it, Mr. Holland?
Sighing, Jonathon shook his head no. It was take his chances with Syn’s twisted little game, or take his chances in trying to fight off all three of those clowns of his. Nothing else. He could play and risk having God knows what done to him by Syn. Or he could not play… and risk having the four men who surround the two of them beat him within an inch of his life. His attention was brought back to Syn as the man suddenly held out the coin to him expectantly. Blinking in confusion, he looked up to Syn to see him smiling in a kind, off putting manner.
Syn: A bit of a gesture of good faith, Mr. Holland. I’ll allow you the courtesy of the first and third flips. That is fair, no?
Jonathon nodded hesitantly at the idea, admitting that it was fair. At least this way he could make sure that he wasn’t cheated in any way during this odd game that they are about to play. Slowly he reached out and took the coin from Syn’s grasp, before he turned it on both sides. Sighing in mild relief that the coin was not a double sided one, he then flipped it in the air. Just as he was about to extend his hand out to catch it, a black gloved hand shot out and caught it in midair. Jonathan looks in shock at The Clown standing in front of him, who was now retracting his fist from the air. He looked over at Syn, who gave a small chuckle as he spoke.
Syn: A little over zealous, aren’t you Rin?
The one he addressed as Rin tilted his head slightly at Syn in confusion as he held his clenched hand out, before Syn decided to wave it off.
Syn: No matter, show Mr. Holland the result of his toss, please?
The Clown nodded, before he slowly opened his fist. Jonathon sighed in relief as the result was a heads. Syn looked at it in amusement, before looking back at Jonathan.
Syn: Well well, Mr. Holland. It appears that today may very well be your lucky day.
Syn calmly took the coin out of The Clown’s hand and held it for a moment, before he smirked back at Jonathan.
Syn: Now, let us see if your luck will persist….or if punishment is indeed in your future.
Syn flipped the coin, then caught it as it came down. He opened his hand to look at it, before he chuckles and gives Jonathan an amused smile.
Syn: Your luck holds out, it seems. A second heads result.
Jonathan smiled. He now had two flips in his favor. If he managed to get one more, he was home free, and away from danger. Syn tossed the coin to him, causing him to blink in momentary confusion. Syn saw this and chuckled.
Syn: I did say the first and third flips would be yours, correct?
Jonathon nodded and flipped the coin and caught it, now sure that he was well on his way to escaping Syn. He opened his fist to look at it, and his mouth opened in horror as he stared down at the coin. Syn peered down at it for a moment, before slowly looking back up at Jonathan’s face.
Syn: [Smirking evilly] Ah, a tails. I believe fortune has left your side.
Syn takes the coin and flips it two more times. To Jonathan’s absolute horror, both times it landed on tails. He had lost. He now had to endure whatever punishment Syn came up with. Syn tucked the coin back into his trench coat pocket, before giving Jonathan a devilish smirk.
Syn: Sorry to say, but it seems as though you lost Mr. Holland. Such a shame, too. You almost had it won, but alas…. It was not meant to be. Now….I believe you and I had an agreement, did we not? And before you consider reneging on our agreement…IF you decide to run, I will find you. No matter what backwater hole in this country you decide to hide in, I will find you. And whatever punishment that I had in mind for you hear will be multiplied tenfold when I do manage to get my hands on you….am I clear, Mr. Holland?
As Syn was speaking, Jonathan just barely noticed the four Clowns shifted had now surrounded he and Syn. Jonathan thought about running, or driving away if he got the chance, but he then remembered that Syn had tracked Jay down in Louisville without any effort what so ever. He would have no problem doing the same to him….and doing far worse than just beating him for a few minutes with a tire iron. Realizing that there was no way out of this, he slowly turned and looked up wearily at Syn, who still had that evil smile etched firmly on his face.
Jonathan: Wh-what are you going to do to me?
Syn chuckled gravely as he spoke.
Syn: I’m not going to physically harm you, if that is what you are enquiring. No, I think a more….visual punishment is more suited for you, Mr. Holland. Now, get in the car, please?
Seeing no other option ahead of him, Jonathan shuffled to the car under the hawk like stares of Syn’s Clowns, before he calmly got into the driver’s seat. Syn then turned to the largest one, giving the barest hints of a smirk as he walked over to him.
Syn: Rai……I want you to do something for me while Mr. Holland comes with us. The man who had the nerve to send him to attempt to tail me? I want you to find him. And keep your distance. If you’re caught, consider yourself dead to me. Am I understood?
The one he addressed as Rai gave a slow, deliberate nod before he slowly walked off, disappearing into the fog that seemed to be starting up again. Chuckling darkly, Syn walked over to the car as the other three clowns all got in, and got into the passenger’s seat. He looked over to Jonathan, who had the steering wheel in a death grip, before looking ahead.
Syn: [Softly] You’ll turn around and drive back into the city, and you’ll go to an address that I instruct. Any attempt at playing the vigilante will be met with swift and painful retaliation. Am I clear?
Jonathan nodded quickly, causing Syn to chuckle darkly as the car started up. Oh, he was going to have fun with this one. He gave a grave chuckle as the car came to life, before it turned around and sped off as the camera faded to black.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [Several Hours Later, at the San Diego Morgue]-----------------------------------------------------------
The camera opened back up inside of the embalming room of the San Diego Morgue, where Jonathan was sitting in a chair, covered in blood and staring blankly at the examiner’s table that was in front of him. While he seemed calm on the outside, on the inside he was horrified at what he had just witnessed. As much as he wanted to run, wanted to scream, wanted to get as far away from the area as humanly possible, he could not will himself to move. His eyes slowly managed to look down at his hands, and he noticed that they were shaking very badly, giving away just how badly this event has affected him. Suddenly, he was jarred out of his thoughts by a bloody hand clasping onto his shoulder. The person leaned down next to him, looking right at him. It was Syn, who seemed to be covered in more blood than Jonathan. It was all over his face and upper body, and had even managed to get into his light blonde hair. He had forced Jonathan to drive them to the San Diego Mortuary, and made him watch as he carved, sliced, and eviscerated this corpse. He made sure to explain in very graphic and gruesome detail all that he was doing, as well as why he was doing it. Syn gave a calm smile, as he spoke to the still shocked man next to him.
Syn: Have fun, Mr. Holland?
Jonathan stayed silent. Syn chuckled at that, before petting and walking over to the table.
Syn: You’re shocked, and very thoroughly so. I cannot blame you, I suppose….after all, it was not often that one witnesses an autopsy from firsthand experience, is it?
Syn smirks as he looks at the table along with Jonathan, taking in the scene in front of them. Lying on the table was a cadaver, or what is now left of him. His chest cavity appeared to have been ripped open, and various organs were strewn about all over the table alongside of him. Syn smiled in delight as he reached out and grabbed the heart, which was lying near the dead man’s arm, before holding it in front of Jonathan.
Syn: It’s a little amazing isn’t it, the mysteries that the human body hold. This one little organ that lays within my hand is capable of pumping upwards of 191,625,000 gallons of blood throughout our bodies by the time we reach the ripe old age of 70. Fascinating, is it not?
Syn tossed it aside and Stood up straight, before he grabbed Jonathan by the arm and hoisted him up to a standing position. Wiping the blood onto the sleeve of Jonathan’s shirt, Syn picked up his trench coat and slipped it on, before picking up a box and giving an amused look at Jonathan, blatantly ignoring the steady drips of blood that came out of the box in his hands.
Syn: Well, I suppose this is all a smidge more fun for me than it is for you, if your silence is anything to go by. But luckily for you, this concludes out little session.
Syn grabbed Jonathan again and pulled him along as he walked up the stairs from the embalming room to the main building. Jonathan, still in shock over the entire event, had hardly noticed when Syn managed to drag him through the building, before they finally made it out. Syn then gave a small sigh of content, before he turned to look at Jonathan.
Syn: Well, My Good Man, this is where you and I part: Me onto a much less dark and gruesome change of scenery. And you….well, you will be reliving this moment for a fair bit of time, won’t you? But look on the bright side, at least this traumatic event did provide a rather interesting learning experience for you. And you get an, uh….nice little gift to go along with it.
Syn claps him on the shoulder, before shoving the box into Jonathan’s hands. He frowned for a moment at the lack of reaction, he had gotten so far, but it passed. He had assumed after seeing his friend decapitate multiple people that he would be capable of handling the idea of someone being embalmed right before his eyes. He painted the smile back onto his face as he spoke once again.
Syn: Farewell, Mr. Holland. For the sake of your own health, may I never need a reason to have another one of these little sessions with you again. No matter how amusing they are starting to become on my part.
Syn turned and walked down the steps, but stopped on a dime. He stayed perfectly still for a few moments, before turning to look back at Jonathan, a blank expression on his face as he did so.
Syn: Oh….and before I forget…..
His expression changed into a devilish smirk.
Syn: [Softly] …. Please tell Jordan that I said…. “Hello”.
He gave a sinster little chuckle as he turned and walked up the street, disappearing into the darkness of the early morning. Jonathan remained on the steps of the morgue, trembling as he held the bloody box in his hands as the scene slowly faded to black.
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The scene opened up in Downtown San Diego, on 750 B Street. It was in the dead of night, and the normally busy street was deserted and quiet for the night. Although it was quiet, there was a certain ominous feeling in the air, as if something was there that did not belong. The camera then panned out, showing a very large building that stood that eclipsed most of the area in its enormous shadow. It was The Symphony Towers, the second largest Sky Scraper in the city. The camera angle then shifted to the very top of the building, and showed a view of the city down below.
: Ah, nostaligia…tis a wonderful thing, is it not?
The camera panned out, and revealed a figure on top of another building right next to this one, standing in the shadows. The person stepped out of the shadows and into the light of the moon, revealing himself. It was Syn, yet it was a Syn that had not seen the light of day for nearly two years’ time. His normally straight, light blonde hair was dyed a dark shade of green, and was tussled about in a messy manner. His entire body was cloaked in a dark purple trench coat, with purple gloves on each hand. His face had changed as well. He had black grease-paint around his eyes and a mask of white covering most of his face. On his mouth, a bright red line, giving off the appearance of having a gruesome Glasgow Smile etched into his face. Syn gave a dark smile as he walked to the center of the roof.
Syn: After all, it gives us all a chance to relive and re-introduce older aspects into our present day lives. For some, it is something as simple reliving an earlier period in their lives, whether it be good or bad. For me….it is going back to what made me who it is that I am today. Not just in dress, no no. It’s about revisiting the very path of destruction that led me to be one of the most ruthless, vile, and charmingly evil entities in The Wonderful World of Premium today. But enough about me for the time being. This, believe it or not, is a bit bigger than just myself.
The time has come, Ladies and Gentlemen.
The one day of the calendar year that everyone in The Wonderful World of Premium looks forward to: The Battle Finale Pay-Per-View. Where legends are made, legacies are established, and one’s career can either be made or destroyed in one defining moment of glory. I must admit, although I’ve been in title matches and consider them to be no different than a normal match….this one is very different. This is the first time, in the 23 months to the very day I debuted, that I’ll be competing on a stage as grand as this one. And it would be foolish of me to overlook that.
Syn paused for a moment, before he continued.
Syn: But while this may be my first foray in Main Eventing the biggest Pay-Per-View of a company’s calendar year, This is hardly my first time competing in a title match. But my opponent is…..a little different from the norm, when it comes to most opponents that I face, World Champion caliber or not. He almost reminds me of myself in many ways, a fact that I’ve mentioned countless times. Like myself, has experienced a staggering amount of success despite only being a professional wrestler for a less than a year, and has exhibited a bloodlust and drive for destruction that I daresay rivals my own.
Syn pauses, before his painted lips quirked into a small sneer as he continued to speak.
Syn: Especially when he has been pushed to a point where he has no other alternative than to become as violent and as ruthless as I need him to be for this. The current PCW World Heavyweight Champion: “The Dark horse of PCW”, Jordan “Jay Thunder” Mcbee. But first, I want to congratulate you on something. You’ve single handedly managed to do something that not even the likes of even Marina Valdivia, Yoshiru Long, or Christopher Flair have managed to accomplish when stepping into the ring with me. You’ve actually managed to disgruntle everyone in the locker room, outside of the company, even those who DESPISE both you and I with a passion to the point where they view me as the lesser of two evils in this match. With all of my rule-bending and underhandedness, even those whom walk at the other end of the morality spectrum see me as the “Better Choice” as World Champion. Not because of my experience, or because I’m better in any way. No, it’s because I have enough sense of myself not to act like a petulant child and go off on a little tirade against the very people whom are responsible for my way of income….however incompetent and dreary they may be.
Syn smirks as he takes a few steps forward.
Syn: But in all of this, I’m not completely evil. I brought you something. A gesture of good faith, if you will.
Syn pointed to the other side of the roof where he was standing, and the camera followed his line of view. The camera shows two very wide, very deep looking black caskets, which look like they had been recently unearthed. There was dirt surrounding the caskets, and they both looked a bit worn and weathered by a fair bit of time.
Syn: I hope you didn’t mind my bringing your Mother and Father to witness our bout first hand, Jordan. While I myself have no family beyond Kai, I felt it very….. wrong, for your family to miss out on seeing you Main Event a Pay-Per-View of this caliber. So, while I didn’t give any word in specific order….I had them brought here. To you. And from what I have seen based off your reactions and words….I made the right decision. After all, they appear to be very near and dear to your heart, are you not? .But I suppose that is enough mental anguish for you for now.
Syn smirks as he rests his hand upon one of the caskets, before he resumes speaking.
Syn: You have a very interesting way of trying to control the narrative in all of this though, Jordan. I’ll give you that much. But sadly, this is one topic of conversation you of all people should avoid with me. Did I take a shortcut or two in gaining my first World Title? Of course I did, and I doubt very many people will argue against what I have done. Anyone who was new to the industry and presented with the opportunity to gain the largest prized in their company would have taken advantage of the circumstance and done anything humanly possible to walk away as the victor. I’m sure even the likes of Mr. Baker would agree with me on that statement. But this is an interesting that you would bring up the topic of having a title awarded to you under very peculiar events, isn’t it? I mean, after all, most of your accomplishments could be listed as spotty at best if it weren’t for some odd series of events turning out in your favor, would they not?
Now, before you try to deny any of what I have said thus far, let us rewind the clock a bit, shall we? There's no need to revisit your World Title Win, because that is relatively....fresh, in the minds of all whom witnessed. So lets rewind the clock....around 8 months back.
Yes, lets rewind back to our very first encounter with one another, at Wrestle Extravaganza: Beantown Brawl, was it not? You remember this night, correct? You and your partner at the time, Scarlett Quinn I believe, vs. Myself and My Brother, Kai, in the finals of The Tag Team Tournament. You remember this match well, don’t you? After all, it was the night you tasted gold for the very first time in your young life. But exactly how did you get that title, hmm?
Syn gives a small smirk as he continues.
Syn: You got the title not by a win, not by us giving up, but because I gave you my place at Kai’s side. And the irony in that, that seemingly everyone has ignored thus far…..is that you owe both your first, and most recent title reigns to me. But to stick to the subject at hand, let us be honest with one another, you would not have won that match. Kai and I eliminated your partner with relatively little effort on our part, and Kai and I could have, and more than likely would have, done the same to you. But instead….I offered you an easy way out of that little predicament. I offered you the chance to be My Brother’s tag team partner in my place, and you were very quick to accept it. And before you deny and say you didn’t have a choice in the matter, I did offer the position in the manner of a choice. You could have declined, opted to attempt to wrestle us instead, and been soundly defeated, all to preserve the so called notion that you “Didn’t have this handed to you”.
But you didn’t. You chose to get that title without taking the risk of having to go through myself and Kai to get it. If your own words are any indication, you’re just as bad off as you claim me to be , if not worse since you’ve had even odder circumstances swing several titles your way……especially The World Title you so dearly clutch to you at this very moment.
But I like that about you. You want to desperately spin the narrative of our little story in your favor, and paint this as you getting a measure of revenge for my actions when this all started with you committing offenses against me. All I’ve done to you was deserved on your part, and that was me being veeeeeeeery lenient. You see, the most common mistake people make when trying to figure out this match is that I wanted an easy out when getting The World Heavyweight Championship. That this match is some sort of complex complicated scheme of mines that will not only get me the title, but you in My Disciples as well.
Syn shook his head and wagged his finger in a taunting manner.
Syn: Not. Really. While I admit that that was a goal of mine previously, you changed all of that when you, in one of the most foolish, poorly thought out decisions you have and will EVER make in your young life, decided to try to pry into my life, MY privacy. Or did you think that I had forgotten? The multiple intrusions of my privacy, stealing from me multiple times, revealing information that you had no right in even SEEING, let alone possessing it.
Syn’s face twisted into a sinister smile.
Syn: So of course, I took the matter very personally. And in return, I stripped everything you held near and dear to you. I took your little mask, your sanity, your safety, and every sense of security that you falsely clung to in some desperate hopes of leading a normal life beyond the inner torment that you had, and took it all away in One. Fell. Swoop. Just one little scuffle, a bludgeoning with a Tire Iron, kidnapping you in plain sight, and pumping you full of a few unnamed drugs, and you broke. Beyond what even I would have expected.
Syn drummed his fingertips on the casket nearest to him as he continued.
Syn: Over the last few months, you’ve begun a little bit of a transformation of sorts, all because of little ol’ me. You’ve become an unhinged, ranting, psychotic little devil, and you’ve made it no secret what your aim is. You’ve become nothing more than a slave to your own disease. The only thing that is keeping you hinged to this plane of sanity and keeping you going right now: Your quest in defeating me, and absolving yourself of every ounce of anger, frustration, and sorrow that I have caused you over the last 4 months…. But there is an underlying fact to all of this, isn’t there? Something that you have overlooked, and yet is within plain sight enough to where even your previous opponent, Curtis Wilkes, has made reference to it in some form or another:
You need me. As much as you want to destroy me Jordan, you need me.
Not just to give you the answers you so desperately seek in controlling this so called “Demon” that you allow to control and guide your every movement. No, you need me to validate you as being worthy of the very belt that you wear around your waist; because as it stands, you’ve utterly wasted the opportunity that I have given you, beyond a few brawls between the two of us here and there. You see, I didn’t give you the opportunity to cash in your little Title Match Opportunity because you were an “Easier Match” for me. I gave you this to see what you would do not only to get me in the ring with you, but what you would do ask champion. And sadly…..
Syn pauses, then clicks his teeth with his tongue, before he continues.
Syn: …. You’ve disappointed in the second area. While I was not expecting very much, considering that it was not something that was planned out beyond a moment’s notice…..I did expect more from you than the execution of one little no-count in the form of a glorified handicap match. But while you were off, allowing yourself to sink deeper into the recesses of your feeble little mind and thinking of just how it was you could get to me, how you could finally get some small measure of revenge for what I’ve done to you, I’ve displayed that I’m capable of beating anyone on this roster at any given time.
Syn smirks darkly as he steeples his hands and rests them atop the casket, before giving a light chuckle.
Syn: ….I would think it was a bit funny if it weren’t so pathetic. And the reason why is not because of your goal to defeat me, and not even because of your amusing little transformation: It’s the fact that no matter what you do to me, what hell you plan on putting me through, I have already won. Think about it for a moment, and allow every meeting we’ve had, violent and non-violent, swirl around in that feeble little mind of yours: I’ve essentially dragged you along this little path that you are on. I stripped you bare of every bit of comfort and joy you’ve had, brought every feeling of anguish, pain, and misery to the forefront of your subconscious……and turned you into the very thing you tried so valiantly, so desperately to keep yourself from becoming…..just. Like. Me.
So here we stand Jordan, just on the cusp of Battle Finale III, both with existing goals in mind: You, with some misguided attempt at avenging your torment at my hands. And me, with moving just one step further in my ambition, my goal, my purpose in this company: To see it razed in the most destructive and chaotic way imaginable. And when that time comes, the outcome will shape the path of this company. And if I win….WHEN I win….well, let’s just say that the path of this company will become very bleak, very dismal, and very, VERY dark
Syn then pulls out a match, then holds it up in plain view as he smirks evilly.
Syn: Welcome to The Age of Armageddon, Jordan. Let the games….begin. . Hehehehehe. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
He strikes it, then tosses it to the ground and watched as it spread and began forming something around he and the caskets. The camera zoomed out, and showed exactly what it was that the camera had formed: The Symbol he used for his Disciples. The scene faded to black as Syn continued to laugh, standing amid the fire as it burned all around him.
Syn: -HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! HEHEHEAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Jonathan: Syn….
Jonathan repressed a shiver at the thought of the man’s name. He couldn’t understand just how one human being could do some of the things this guy has done, most of them done in an attempt to get into Jay’s head. He’s stalked him, beaten him, kidnapped him, and a list of other offenses that just seem impossible for one man to be able to accomplish. And yet he has. Somehow, that….whatever he is, has done it seemingly at will. It was horrifying to think about. Jonathan’s musing s were cut short as the car slowly started to slow down, causing him to look down in confusion.
Jonathan: What the….? The hell is this?
The car continued to slow down on its own, before it came to a complete stop on the side of the road. Jonathan tried to start it back up again, but the effort was in vain. He didn’t get it. Why would the car just suddenly stop out of the blue? He had filled it with gas before they went to the arena. He had checked everything this morning to make sure that it was all working. So why would the car choose now of all times to crap out on him? Sighing in frustration, he got out of the car and took out his cell phone to call Jay and tell him what happened. He froze, however when he looked at the screen of his phone. It was dead. Now he was starting to become very afraid, his mind just coherent enough to notice that this scene was eerily familiar.
It was almost exactly what happened in Louisville, down to the very setting.
Jonathan: Ok, j-just relax. This is all just one big coincidence……
Suddenly, as these words left his lips, he once again found himself silenced by what happened next. Almost as quickly as he uttered the sentence, a haze of fog rolled in, obscuring his view of anything beyond where he was standing. He backed against the car as he rapidly began looking around, trying to see if he could spot something coming out of the dense fog. His pulse began to skyrocket as he tried desperately to peer out into the fog, allowing his mind to sink deeper and deeper into paranoia. His breathing sped up as he tried to ease his way back into the car, when something caught his attention. There seemed to be something moving within the fog, slowly drifting off in the distance. It seemed to be slowly gliding towards him. He tried to peer out to see what it was, but could not clearly see exactly who…. Or what the mysterious object was.
Jonathan Holland: Who’s there?
Slowly but surely, he could make out what looked to be silhouette of someone standing off in the darkness, staring in his direction. Jonathon frowned in concern, before he called out to the person.
Jonathon: Hello? Is someone there?
Just as quickly as the shadow appeared, it seemed to fade away, almost as if there was nothing there at all. Jon quickly began looking around, wondering exactly what the hell was going on around him. His eyes darted back and forth as he checked for any sigh of life. This was starting to get very freaky very fast, all because he agreed to trail one guy. Jon turned and noticed, to his ever-growing horror, that another figure appeared within the ominous fog, this one walking towards him. Unconsciously, he started to back up as the figure seemingly got closer and closer to him.
Jonathon: St-stay back! I’m warning you!
The figure suddenly stopped, and much like it had before, it seemed to fade into the fog as if it was not there to begin with. Jonathon felt his breathing become rapid as he continued to look around, the paranoia finally sitting in as he realized that he was not alone. Just as Jon ‘s fear began to escalate, the mysterious fog began to dispel. He looked around for a moment, unsure of what just happened or how it happened, before he gave a weak sigh.
Jonathon: Maybe it was all just in my head….
Just as Jon uttered these words, a soft, sinister voice spoke up, right in his ear, causing him to freeze on the spot and his blood to run cold.
?: Or maybe..... you’re in far more trouble than your mind can begin to realize.Slowly, Jon turned around, and came face to face with the very person who is solely responsible for the transformation of his best friend. Syn smiled at Jon in dark amusement as he crossed his arms over his chest.
Syn: Hmm…..now, where have I seen this before, hmm?
Syn’s eyes lit up slightly as his smile turned positively evil.
Syn: Oh yes……this is almost exactly how this entire little situation between myself and Jordan started almost 4 months ago. The only difference in the matter is that he’s not here…..and that I’m not holding a tire iron in my hand, poised to bludgeon you within an inch of your life. But enough about that bit of business…
Jon seemed to be trapped by the dark, almost amused gaze of the otherworldly green eyes staring right into his own as he tried to move, yet found that he couldn’t.
Syn: Hello, Jonathon…. You look a bit surprised to see me. Why?
Jonathon tried to sound out a reply, but was unable to speak as Syn took a step forward, causing him to instinctively take a step back in fear. He recalled all too well what happened the last time that he was in this position. How Syn had come out of thin air seemingly and he ended up being beaten with a tire iron. He continued to take steps away from the man in front of him as he kept advancing towards him, giving him a curious look.
Syn: Could it be that you’ve done something wrong…?
Jon backed up against the car, fear pouring off of him in waves as this madman continued to walk towards him. He closed his eyes and looked away as Syn reached a pale hand out towards him. He silently prayed that whatever Syn did to him, he made it quick and painless. He did not want for him to drag it out as he did the last time. Jonathan suddenly felt something being pulled from his neck, before he cracked one of his eyes open to see what he had done. His eyes widened slightly as he saw the binoculars that he was using just a moment ago to tail Syn were now in his hands. Syn inspected it closely, before he looked up at Jonathon.
Syn: [Softly] Interesting thing to be carrying with you on the road, Mr. Holland. Even if we’re in the backwater dregs of Hollywood... were you attempting to catch a would be star at this ungodly hour?
Jonathon stayed silent as Syn’s expression turned into a sinister one as he tossed the pair of binoculars up slightly, before catching them.
Syn: It is very odd that these were found in your possession here of all places, Mr. Holland. Especially when there is visibly nothing in sight but the road that you and I are on. Why, if someone were to catch you with this…..
Jonathan finally snapped to at the thinly veiled threat, knowing that Syn knew exactly why he had them. Somehow, some way, he knew, and he was toying with him until he either got tired of it or he fessed up to it. He was not about to give him that pleasure. Not today. Jonathan turned and went to attempt to run, when Syn cut him off with words.
Syn: Ah ah ah. I don’t think running would be the best thing for you to attempt at the moment. You see, I would let you go…..but I don’t think they would show you the same courtesy….
Jonathon’s fear was momentarily replaced with confusion, which made itself known as he gave Syn an uneasy look.
Jonathon: They…..?
Syn smirks, before he points over Jonathon’s shoulder, towards the car. Jon slowly turned his head slightly as he followed Syn’s line of sight, and turned pale at what he saw. Standing on top and around his car, were four figures, who much like Syn he hadn’t seen or heard come this close to him. All four were dressed in trench coats that covered up most of their bodies, and creepy clown masks covering their faces. Syn’s smirk widened as all four quietly got off of the car, and slowly began walking over to them, cutting off any chance of escape that Jonathon may have had ahead of him.
Syn: These are my….personal little band of clowns, Mr. Holland. And much like myself, they do not take too kindly to me having my privacy being tarnished by a lackey of an arrogant little ponce who can’t be bothered to send someone more….competent, to attempt to spy on me.
His green eyes flashed for a moment in minor annoyance, before he slowly reached out and placed a hand on Jonathon’s shoulder, causing the man to freeze on contact.
Syn: Now, the question is….what shall I do with you now that I’ve caught you, hmm? I can’t very well just let you go and think that this is an acceptable thing to do….
Syn thought for a moment as his grip on Jonathon’s shoulder tightened, causing him to bite down a yelp of pain as Syn spoke to himself.
Syn: Suppose I could give you another good beating as a refresher of exactly WHY it is never a good idea in any sense to draw my ire……but that only seems to make people foolishly continue to do so. I’ll never understand why….
Syn’s grip tightened even more, bringing Jonathon to his knees as he tried to paw his hand off of his shoulder before he did any serious damage. Syn suddenly smiled, before he released Jonathan’s shoulder.
Syn: I’m not going to hurt you, Mr. Holland, on the contrary. I’m…going to give you the opportunity to win your freedom and safety.
As the words left Syn’s mouth, Jonathon gave him a weary gaze. The offer sounded too good to be true. He had him at his mercy to torture, maim, and whatever else his mind seemed to be able to think up. Yet he said he was going to give him a chance to earn his freedom. No strings attached or anything. He cautiously looked at Syn, before he spoke.
Jonathon: ….What do I have to do?
Syn’s eyes lit up and he gave a small smirk, before he reached into the pocket of his trench coat and pulled out a coin. His smirk widened, before he held it up for Jonathon to see.
Syn: We’re going to play a little game of chance. You’ll flip this coin –
Syn turned the coin to where the face side was in plain view.
Syn: - five times if necessary. If you manage to get it to land face side up three times of the five, then you’ve won your freedom. I’ll allow you to leave, and neither myself nor my “Clowns” will pursue or harm you in any way, shape or form. You’ll escape from this with no punishment…
His smirk turned dark as he turned it over to the tail side.
Syn: …. However, if it should land on the tails side three times of the five….well, you’ll come with me. No complaining. No bargaining. No pleading for your release from my company. You will spend the next several hours taking whatever punishment that my mind can conjure up for the likes of you, and you will do so of your own accord. Understand, Mr. Holland?
Jonathan: I….don’t have much of a choice in this, do I?
Syn chuckles at that.
Syn: You COULD always say no….. and My “Clowns” could do away with you right here and be done with it. But that isn’t exactly fair for you, or fun for me now is it, Mr. Holland?
Sighing, Jonathon shook his head no. It was take his chances with Syn’s twisted little game, or take his chances in trying to fight off all three of those clowns of his. Nothing else. He could play and risk having God knows what done to him by Syn. Or he could not play… and risk having the four men who surround the two of them beat him within an inch of his life. His attention was brought back to Syn as the man suddenly held out the coin to him expectantly. Blinking in confusion, he looked up to Syn to see him smiling in a kind, off putting manner.
Syn: A bit of a gesture of good faith, Mr. Holland. I’ll allow you the courtesy of the first and third flips. That is fair, no?
Jonathon nodded hesitantly at the idea, admitting that it was fair. At least this way he could make sure that he wasn’t cheated in any way during this odd game that they are about to play. Slowly he reached out and took the coin from Syn’s grasp, before he turned it on both sides. Sighing in mild relief that the coin was not a double sided one, he then flipped it in the air. Just as he was about to extend his hand out to catch it, a black gloved hand shot out and caught it in midair. Jonathan looks in shock at The Clown standing in front of him, who was now retracting his fist from the air. He looked over at Syn, who gave a small chuckle as he spoke.
Syn: A little over zealous, aren’t you Rin?
The one he addressed as Rin tilted his head slightly at Syn in confusion as he held his clenched hand out, before Syn decided to wave it off.
Syn: No matter, show Mr. Holland the result of his toss, please?
The Clown nodded, before he slowly opened his fist. Jonathon sighed in relief as the result was a heads. Syn looked at it in amusement, before looking back at Jonathan.
Syn: Well well, Mr. Holland. It appears that today may very well be your lucky day.
Syn calmly took the coin out of The Clown’s hand and held it for a moment, before he smirked back at Jonathan.
Syn: Now, let us see if your luck will persist….or if punishment is indeed in your future.
Syn flipped the coin, then caught it as it came down. He opened his hand to look at it, before he chuckles and gives Jonathan an amused smile.
Syn: Your luck holds out, it seems. A second heads result.
Jonathan smiled. He now had two flips in his favor. If he managed to get one more, he was home free, and away from danger. Syn tossed the coin to him, causing him to blink in momentary confusion. Syn saw this and chuckled.
Syn: I did say the first and third flips would be yours, correct?
Jonathon nodded and flipped the coin and caught it, now sure that he was well on his way to escaping Syn. He opened his fist to look at it, and his mouth opened in horror as he stared down at the coin. Syn peered down at it for a moment, before slowly looking back up at Jonathan’s face.
Syn: [Smirking evilly] Ah, a tails. I believe fortune has left your side.
Syn takes the coin and flips it two more times. To Jonathan’s absolute horror, both times it landed on tails. He had lost. He now had to endure whatever punishment Syn came up with. Syn tucked the coin back into his trench coat pocket, before giving Jonathan a devilish smirk.
Syn: Sorry to say, but it seems as though you lost Mr. Holland. Such a shame, too. You almost had it won, but alas…. It was not meant to be. Now….I believe you and I had an agreement, did we not? And before you consider reneging on our agreement…IF you decide to run, I will find you. No matter what backwater hole in this country you decide to hide in, I will find you. And whatever punishment that I had in mind for you hear will be multiplied tenfold when I do manage to get my hands on you….am I clear, Mr. Holland?
As Syn was speaking, Jonathan just barely noticed the four Clowns shifted had now surrounded he and Syn. Jonathan thought about running, or driving away if he got the chance, but he then remembered that Syn had tracked Jay down in Louisville without any effort what so ever. He would have no problem doing the same to him….and doing far worse than just beating him for a few minutes with a tire iron. Realizing that there was no way out of this, he slowly turned and looked up wearily at Syn, who still had that evil smile etched firmly on his face.
Jonathan: Wh-what are you going to do to me?
Syn chuckled gravely as he spoke.
Syn: I’m not going to physically harm you, if that is what you are enquiring. No, I think a more….visual punishment is more suited for you, Mr. Holland. Now, get in the car, please?
Seeing no other option ahead of him, Jonathan shuffled to the car under the hawk like stares of Syn’s Clowns, before he calmly got into the driver’s seat. Syn then turned to the largest one, giving the barest hints of a smirk as he walked over to him.
Syn: Rai……I want you to do something for me while Mr. Holland comes with us. The man who had the nerve to send him to attempt to tail me? I want you to find him. And keep your distance. If you’re caught, consider yourself dead to me. Am I understood?
The one he addressed as Rai gave a slow, deliberate nod before he slowly walked off, disappearing into the fog that seemed to be starting up again. Chuckling darkly, Syn walked over to the car as the other three clowns all got in, and got into the passenger’s seat. He looked over to Jonathan, who had the steering wheel in a death grip, before looking ahead.
Syn: [Softly] You’ll turn around and drive back into the city, and you’ll go to an address that I instruct. Any attempt at playing the vigilante will be met with swift and painful retaliation. Am I clear?
Jonathan nodded quickly, causing Syn to chuckle darkly as the car started up. Oh, he was going to have fun with this one. He gave a grave chuckle as the car came to life, before it turned around and sped off as the camera faded to black.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [Several Hours Later, at the San Diego Morgue]-----------------------------------------------------------
The camera opened back up inside of the embalming room of the San Diego Morgue, where Jonathan was sitting in a chair, covered in blood and staring blankly at the examiner’s table that was in front of him. While he seemed calm on the outside, on the inside he was horrified at what he had just witnessed. As much as he wanted to run, wanted to scream, wanted to get as far away from the area as humanly possible, he could not will himself to move. His eyes slowly managed to look down at his hands, and he noticed that they were shaking very badly, giving away just how badly this event has affected him. Suddenly, he was jarred out of his thoughts by a bloody hand clasping onto his shoulder. The person leaned down next to him, looking right at him. It was Syn, who seemed to be covered in more blood than Jonathan. It was all over his face and upper body, and had even managed to get into his light blonde hair. He had forced Jonathan to drive them to the San Diego Mortuary, and made him watch as he carved, sliced, and eviscerated this corpse. He made sure to explain in very graphic and gruesome detail all that he was doing, as well as why he was doing it. Syn gave a calm smile, as he spoke to the still shocked man next to him.
Syn: Have fun, Mr. Holland?
Jonathan stayed silent. Syn chuckled at that, before petting and walking over to the table.
Syn: You’re shocked, and very thoroughly so. I cannot blame you, I suppose….after all, it was not often that one witnesses an autopsy from firsthand experience, is it?
Syn smirks as he looks at the table along with Jonathan, taking in the scene in front of them. Lying on the table was a cadaver, or what is now left of him. His chest cavity appeared to have been ripped open, and various organs were strewn about all over the table alongside of him. Syn smiled in delight as he reached out and grabbed the heart, which was lying near the dead man’s arm, before holding it in front of Jonathan.
Syn: It’s a little amazing isn’t it, the mysteries that the human body hold. This one little organ that lays within my hand is capable of pumping upwards of 191,625,000 gallons of blood throughout our bodies by the time we reach the ripe old age of 70. Fascinating, is it not?
Syn tossed it aside and Stood up straight, before he grabbed Jonathan by the arm and hoisted him up to a standing position. Wiping the blood onto the sleeve of Jonathan’s shirt, Syn picked up his trench coat and slipped it on, before picking up a box and giving an amused look at Jonathan, blatantly ignoring the steady drips of blood that came out of the box in his hands.
Syn: Well, I suppose this is all a smidge more fun for me than it is for you, if your silence is anything to go by. But luckily for you, this concludes out little session.
Syn grabbed Jonathan again and pulled him along as he walked up the stairs from the embalming room to the main building. Jonathan, still in shock over the entire event, had hardly noticed when Syn managed to drag him through the building, before they finally made it out. Syn then gave a small sigh of content, before he turned to look at Jonathan.
Syn: Well, My Good Man, this is where you and I part: Me onto a much less dark and gruesome change of scenery. And you….well, you will be reliving this moment for a fair bit of time, won’t you? But look on the bright side, at least this traumatic event did provide a rather interesting learning experience for you. And you get an, uh….nice little gift to go along with it.
Syn claps him on the shoulder, before shoving the box into Jonathan’s hands. He frowned for a moment at the lack of reaction, he had gotten so far, but it passed. He had assumed after seeing his friend decapitate multiple people that he would be capable of handling the idea of someone being embalmed right before his eyes. He painted the smile back onto his face as he spoke once again.
Syn: Farewell, Mr. Holland. For the sake of your own health, may I never need a reason to have another one of these little sessions with you again. No matter how amusing they are starting to become on my part.
Syn turned and walked down the steps, but stopped on a dime. He stayed perfectly still for a few moments, before turning to look back at Jonathan, a blank expression on his face as he did so.
Syn: Oh….and before I forget…..
His expression changed into a devilish smirk.
Syn: [Softly] …. Please tell Jordan that I said…. “Hello”.
He gave a sinster little chuckle as he turned and walked up the street, disappearing into the darkness of the early morning. Jonathan remained on the steps of the morgue, trembling as he held the bloody box in his hands as the scene slowly faded to black.
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The scene opened up in Downtown San Diego, on 750 B Street. It was in the dead of night, and the normally busy street was deserted and quiet for the night. Although it was quiet, there was a certain ominous feeling in the air, as if something was there that did not belong. The camera then panned out, showing a very large building that stood that eclipsed most of the area in its enormous shadow. It was The Symphony Towers, the second largest Sky Scraper in the city. The camera angle then shifted to the very top of the building, and showed a view of the city down below.
: Ah, nostaligia…tis a wonderful thing, is it not?The camera panned out, and revealed a figure on top of another building right next to this one, standing in the shadows. The person stepped out of the shadows and into the light of the moon, revealing himself. It was Syn, yet it was a Syn that had not seen the light of day for nearly two years’ time. His normally straight, light blonde hair was dyed a dark shade of green, and was tussled about in a messy manner. His entire body was cloaked in a dark purple trench coat, with purple gloves on each hand. His face had changed as well. He had black grease-paint around his eyes and a mask of white covering most of his face. On his mouth, a bright red line, giving off the appearance of having a gruesome Glasgow Smile etched into his face. Syn gave a dark smile as he walked to the center of the roof.
Syn: After all, it gives us all a chance to relive and re-introduce older aspects into our present day lives. For some, it is something as simple reliving an earlier period in their lives, whether it be good or bad. For me….it is going back to what made me who it is that I am today. Not just in dress, no no. It’s about revisiting the very path of destruction that led me to be one of the most ruthless, vile, and charmingly evil entities in The Wonderful World of Premium today. But enough about me for the time being. This, believe it or not, is a bit bigger than just myself.
The time has come, Ladies and Gentlemen.
The one day of the calendar year that everyone in The Wonderful World of Premium looks forward to: The Battle Finale Pay-Per-View. Where legends are made, legacies are established, and one’s career can either be made or destroyed in one defining moment of glory. I must admit, although I’ve been in title matches and consider them to be no different than a normal match….this one is very different. This is the first time, in the 23 months to the very day I debuted, that I’ll be competing on a stage as grand as this one. And it would be foolish of me to overlook that.
Syn paused for a moment, before he continued.
Syn: But while this may be my first foray in Main Eventing the biggest Pay-Per-View of a company’s calendar year, This is hardly my first time competing in a title match. But my opponent is…..a little different from the norm, when it comes to most opponents that I face, World Champion caliber or not. He almost reminds me of myself in many ways, a fact that I’ve mentioned countless times. Like myself, has experienced a staggering amount of success despite only being a professional wrestler for a less than a year, and has exhibited a bloodlust and drive for destruction that I daresay rivals my own.
Syn pauses, before his painted lips quirked into a small sneer as he continued to speak.
Syn: Especially when he has been pushed to a point where he has no other alternative than to become as violent and as ruthless as I need him to be for this. The current PCW World Heavyweight Champion: “The Dark horse of PCW”, Jordan “Jay Thunder” Mcbee. But first, I want to congratulate you on something. You’ve single handedly managed to do something that not even the likes of even Marina Valdivia, Yoshiru Long, or Christopher Flair have managed to accomplish when stepping into the ring with me. You’ve actually managed to disgruntle everyone in the locker room, outside of the company, even those who DESPISE both you and I with a passion to the point where they view me as the lesser of two evils in this match. With all of my rule-bending and underhandedness, even those whom walk at the other end of the morality spectrum see me as the “Better Choice” as World Champion. Not because of my experience, or because I’m better in any way. No, it’s because I have enough sense of myself not to act like a petulant child and go off on a little tirade against the very people whom are responsible for my way of income….however incompetent and dreary they may be.
Syn smirks as he takes a few steps forward.
Syn: But in all of this, I’m not completely evil. I brought you something. A gesture of good faith, if you will.
Syn pointed to the other side of the roof where he was standing, and the camera followed his line of view. The camera shows two very wide, very deep looking black caskets, which look like they had been recently unearthed. There was dirt surrounding the caskets, and they both looked a bit worn and weathered by a fair bit of time.
Syn: I hope you didn’t mind my bringing your Mother and Father to witness our bout first hand, Jordan. While I myself have no family beyond Kai, I felt it very….. wrong, for your family to miss out on seeing you Main Event a Pay-Per-View of this caliber. So, while I didn’t give any word in specific order….I had them brought here. To you. And from what I have seen based off your reactions and words….I made the right decision. After all, they appear to be very near and dear to your heart, are you not? .But I suppose that is enough mental anguish for you for now.
Syn smirks as he rests his hand upon one of the caskets, before he resumes speaking.
Syn: You have a very interesting way of trying to control the narrative in all of this though, Jordan. I’ll give you that much. But sadly, this is one topic of conversation you of all people should avoid with me. Did I take a shortcut or two in gaining my first World Title? Of course I did, and I doubt very many people will argue against what I have done. Anyone who was new to the industry and presented with the opportunity to gain the largest prized in their company would have taken advantage of the circumstance and done anything humanly possible to walk away as the victor. I’m sure even the likes of Mr. Baker would agree with me on that statement. But this is an interesting that you would bring up the topic of having a title awarded to you under very peculiar events, isn’t it? I mean, after all, most of your accomplishments could be listed as spotty at best if it weren’t for some odd series of events turning out in your favor, would they not?
Now, before you try to deny any of what I have said thus far, let us rewind the clock a bit, shall we? There's no need to revisit your World Title Win, because that is relatively....fresh, in the minds of all whom witnessed. So lets rewind the clock....around 8 months back.
Yes, lets rewind back to our very first encounter with one another, at Wrestle Extravaganza: Beantown Brawl, was it not? You remember this night, correct? You and your partner at the time, Scarlett Quinn I believe, vs. Myself and My Brother, Kai, in the finals of The Tag Team Tournament. You remember this match well, don’t you? After all, it was the night you tasted gold for the very first time in your young life. But exactly how did you get that title, hmm?
Syn gives a small smirk as he continues.
Syn: You got the title not by a win, not by us giving up, but because I gave you my place at Kai’s side. And the irony in that, that seemingly everyone has ignored thus far…..is that you owe both your first, and most recent title reigns to me. But to stick to the subject at hand, let us be honest with one another, you would not have won that match. Kai and I eliminated your partner with relatively little effort on our part, and Kai and I could have, and more than likely would have, done the same to you. But instead….I offered you an easy way out of that little predicament. I offered you the chance to be My Brother’s tag team partner in my place, and you were very quick to accept it. And before you deny and say you didn’t have a choice in the matter, I did offer the position in the manner of a choice. You could have declined, opted to attempt to wrestle us instead, and been soundly defeated, all to preserve the so called notion that you “Didn’t have this handed to you”.
But you didn’t. You chose to get that title without taking the risk of having to go through myself and Kai to get it. If your own words are any indication, you’re just as bad off as you claim me to be , if not worse since you’ve had even odder circumstances swing several titles your way……especially The World Title you so dearly clutch to you at this very moment.
But I like that about you. You want to desperately spin the narrative of our little story in your favor, and paint this as you getting a measure of revenge for my actions when this all started with you committing offenses against me. All I’ve done to you was deserved on your part, and that was me being veeeeeeeery lenient. You see, the most common mistake people make when trying to figure out this match is that I wanted an easy out when getting The World Heavyweight Championship. That this match is some sort of complex complicated scheme of mines that will not only get me the title, but you in My Disciples as well.
Syn shook his head and wagged his finger in a taunting manner.
Syn: Not. Really. While I admit that that was a goal of mine previously, you changed all of that when you, in one of the most foolish, poorly thought out decisions you have and will EVER make in your young life, decided to try to pry into my life, MY privacy. Or did you think that I had forgotten? The multiple intrusions of my privacy, stealing from me multiple times, revealing information that you had no right in even SEEING, let alone possessing it.
Syn’s face twisted into a sinister smile.
Syn: So of course, I took the matter very personally. And in return, I stripped everything you held near and dear to you. I took your little mask, your sanity, your safety, and every sense of security that you falsely clung to in some desperate hopes of leading a normal life beyond the inner torment that you had, and took it all away in One. Fell. Swoop. Just one little scuffle, a bludgeoning with a Tire Iron, kidnapping you in plain sight, and pumping you full of a few unnamed drugs, and you broke. Beyond what even I would have expected.
Syn drummed his fingertips on the casket nearest to him as he continued.
Syn: Over the last few months, you’ve begun a little bit of a transformation of sorts, all because of little ol’ me. You’ve become an unhinged, ranting, psychotic little devil, and you’ve made it no secret what your aim is. You’ve become nothing more than a slave to your own disease. The only thing that is keeping you hinged to this plane of sanity and keeping you going right now: Your quest in defeating me, and absolving yourself of every ounce of anger, frustration, and sorrow that I have caused you over the last 4 months…. But there is an underlying fact to all of this, isn’t there? Something that you have overlooked, and yet is within plain sight enough to where even your previous opponent, Curtis Wilkes, has made reference to it in some form or another:
You need me. As much as you want to destroy me Jordan, you need me.
Not just to give you the answers you so desperately seek in controlling this so called “Demon” that you allow to control and guide your every movement. No, you need me to validate you as being worthy of the very belt that you wear around your waist; because as it stands, you’ve utterly wasted the opportunity that I have given you, beyond a few brawls between the two of us here and there. You see, I didn’t give you the opportunity to cash in your little Title Match Opportunity because you were an “Easier Match” for me. I gave you this to see what you would do not only to get me in the ring with you, but what you would do ask champion. And sadly…..
Syn pauses, then clicks his teeth with his tongue, before he continues.
Syn: …. You’ve disappointed in the second area. While I was not expecting very much, considering that it was not something that was planned out beyond a moment’s notice…..I did expect more from you than the execution of one little no-count in the form of a glorified handicap match. But while you were off, allowing yourself to sink deeper into the recesses of your feeble little mind and thinking of just how it was you could get to me, how you could finally get some small measure of revenge for what I’ve done to you, I’ve displayed that I’m capable of beating anyone on this roster at any given time.
Syn smirks darkly as he steeples his hands and rests them atop the casket, before giving a light chuckle.
Syn: ….I would think it was a bit funny if it weren’t so pathetic. And the reason why is not because of your goal to defeat me, and not even because of your amusing little transformation: It’s the fact that no matter what you do to me, what hell you plan on putting me through, I have already won. Think about it for a moment, and allow every meeting we’ve had, violent and non-violent, swirl around in that feeble little mind of yours: I’ve essentially dragged you along this little path that you are on. I stripped you bare of every bit of comfort and joy you’ve had, brought every feeling of anguish, pain, and misery to the forefront of your subconscious……and turned you into the very thing you tried so valiantly, so desperately to keep yourself from becoming…..just. Like. Me.
So here we stand Jordan, just on the cusp of Battle Finale III, both with existing goals in mind: You, with some misguided attempt at avenging your torment at my hands. And me, with moving just one step further in my ambition, my goal, my purpose in this company: To see it razed in the most destructive and chaotic way imaginable. And when that time comes, the outcome will shape the path of this company. And if I win….WHEN I win….well, let’s just say that the path of this company will become very bleak, very dismal, and very, VERY dark
Syn then pulls out a match, then holds it up in plain view as he smirks evilly.
Syn: Welcome to The Age of Armageddon, Jordan. Let the games….begin. . Hehehehehe. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
He strikes it, then tosses it to the ground and watched as it spread and began forming something around he and the caskets. The camera zoomed out, and showed exactly what it was that the camera had formed: The Symbol he used for his Disciples. The scene faded to black as Syn continued to laugh, standing amid the fire as it burned all around him.
Syn: -HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! HEHEHEAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
