Revenge

[Brother Zachariah]

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“TH-WOP…

TH-WOP…

TH-WOP...”

The screen is resurrected at Wildes Manor, or what used to be, establishing shots of several locations throughout the home to locate the whereabouts of the mysterious ‘th-wopping’; commencing with a shot of the kitchen sink - which like much of the home - has long since lost it’s luminous stainless steel appeal from lack of use; followed by a shot of the broken water heater in the infamous Wildes Dungeon basement and concluding with the upstairs bathroom.

“TH-WOP…

TH-WOP…

TH-WOP...”

Among the scum and drywall debris of the floor and molded walls stood Brother Zachariah, staring deeply at his clouded reflection in the aged and slightly broken mirror above the sink.



"Never wound what you can’t kill", he’d start in navy blue blazer and pants, hair tidy for the most part minus a few rebellious strands, "a common phrase that sums up everything this bout conveys down to the last detail. A blundering mouth-breather has a potential foe at his mercy, but instead of implementing the coup de grace, insists on making the dire mistake in allowing him to live. Wounded, he retreats to regain his strength fueled by his bloodlust for the day he would come back to wreak havoc on his now-sworn enemy."

“TH-WOP…

TH-WOP…

TH-WOP...”

"It’s been three months. Three-long-agonizing-grueling-months that I have spent away from the GZWA after being diagnosed with a concussion. I was forbidden from any physicality that would otherwise hinder my recovery; that alone hurt me more than any body slam or high spot ever could. My time is money; and that is time I can never get back...therefore someone has got to pay for it, yes? Namely Konrad Raab and Equinox. In the words of my dear old Grandpa, rest his soul, the two of you should have struck when the iron was hot because there’s not a chance in hell of you getting another opening like that -- let alone winning the upcoming bout while in my latest form."

An ominous white mist appears, swimming about the floors, preluding the arrival of that very female ghoul that attacked the camera man some time ago, accompanied by a two little girls in their Sunday dresses and a ghoulish male figure who emerges from beneath the tub full of water; his eyes drawn shut for the moment, until he’s awakened by the whispers of fellow spirits; his eyelids peel back revealing the blackness of his eyes.

“TH-WOP…

TH-WOP…

TH-WOP...”

The woman wraps her arms around him, embracing him, a chill scurries down his spine as he tilts his head back to inhale deeply taking in her ora. His eyes drew shut. When opened, his eyes too are as black as night.



"I can feel them...their presence...their power -- it’s stronger than anything I’ve ever known or felt before. I shouldn’t have to remind you, the GZWA Universe, or my opponent's what this power I speak of is. You’ve witnessed the destruction I wield at whim like it were some mere handgun -- I am simply untouchable." His sights transfer to the camera behind him, looking at it through the mirror’s reflection. "Equinox. I understand you have built quite the reputation for yourself in my absence. People regard you as a Fighting Champion who has contributed heavily to the sudden charge of interest that currently swirls around the Television Title. Alas, I’m not so easily convinced. Your championship has never been in any danger of capture because those you’ve faced were never worthy of it in the first place, not even Konrad Raab as he’s proven himself to be a month ago, but now you have found a true challenge in myself. I assure you, your reign has never been more threatened than it is now, because in matches such as these there will be no rules, no pinfalls, no submissions, and most certainly no partners! Being that you’ve dubbed yourself a 'High Spot Hero', I suspect the stipulation will come as intriguing to you, and make no mistake about it, I expect you to pull a lot of fancy high risk stunts from your hat and because I know this I will be looking to send you plummeting to the ground in a broken bloody mess. You’re but a flying duck that has flown into my cross heirs...and do you know what comes next?" Zachariah raises his left hand, middle and index finger conjoined, placing them to his temple to imitate a gun. "The inevitable...'BOOM'. Shine it up real nice for me, because at the final toll of the bell the Hero will have fallen and the King would have arose with crown in his grip."

“TH-WOP…

TH-WOP…

TH-WOP...”

"Admittedly, I’m not big on ladder stipulated matches, but I will not let this deter me from reaching the crest of this company. I vow to answer the challenge of every mocking rung, latching onto its horizontal structure until I am vertical with glory, which’ll be swinging freely high above the ring I aim to bloody with the opposition. Granted the Television Title isn’t aligned with my true purpose here, but it is a step in the right direction. Not to mention an effective way to crush the men responsible for my injuries, especially you, Raab. It’s to my understanding that you’ve been pining after said Title for quite a while...a month ago you even had me convinced that you’d walk away victorious with it, but as is to be expected this week, your emotions kept you from achieving it. Your wife’s medical condition kept you from the Tag Team Titles and your friendship with Equinox keeps you from the Television Title. Your emotions are a crutch that will continue to anchor your career until you learn to do what is necessary -- in Equinox’s case, cut off all ties and end him. How many hits can your legacy withstand before it crumbles all together? If I had to guess, I wouldn’t say much more. But here comes the wrecking ball...while my emotions have given me strength yours continue to cripple, your breaking point is near and I’m going to push you over the edge. Konrad Raab, the Iceman, as some call you...I assure you, you haven’t felt a colder chill than the inevitable death that awaits you in the forthcoming week. The souls of the lost are baying for you both..."

The mirror clouds from condensation. Brother Zachariah places a palm to the surface to swipe in relocating his reflection only to discover that his face had been altered with some bizarre black, red, and white facial texture/design.



"And I aim to deliver."

“TH-WOP…

TH-WOP…

TH-WOP...”

The scene concludes.

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