[ The Scene ]Canvey Island, Essex .

[ Time ] Approx: 8pm Monday February, 7th.

The service has ended; the once filled cathedral now empty; the tears, the cries, the remembrance of a legend, now just a page in history. To those who remember, and to those yet to know, "The Canvey Crippler" now laid to rest.

The flowers were gone and silence filled the room; one man, a legend in the making remains alone. His broad shoulders pressed against the maple pews. His head hung low, his eyes watered by tears. Tho were they tears of sorrow, of joy or of respect?

The man places his hand upon the pew infront, pulling himself foward while standing to his feet. He glances at the statue behind the alter which bares "Christ's Mother", The Virgin Mary. Her hands folded together in prayer; begging for the life of her only child. The man stands, nods his head, turning his back and walking to the exit.

All good men must die, but death cannot kill their name. he pauses. Rest in Peace, Shawn Claymore.

The man continues to walk outside. He glances back at the cathedral, taking in a deep breath and walking down the concrete drive. Further down, the man stops, gazing into the exquisite sunset as the stars begin to approach the horizon.

This week I face a champion, a man with no set boundaries, a man willing to do what it takes to acomplish a goal, a man, such as myself.

The man continues to walk along the path; his black shirt, dark denim jeans and Oakley glasses set off his signature. The camera zooms in, not upon the man as an indivdual, but as a man with a goal, a destiny, a purpose. A man who knows what he wants, and will not stop until its his.

Phoenix, today is a day of enlightment, a day of circumstances and reckoning. A day many people will morne and a day many rejoice. he pauses However, today is not the day we decide how the rest of our lives will be. We won't decide who stands and who walks away, who will bleed and who will stop at nothing to achieve his goal.

The camera now zooms in on the man's face, as it's revealed to be Kole Chambers. His stern, vengeful eyes, focus upon the lens. His jaw, strong and intense, he glares into the camera with no emotional strain.

Destiny is not a matter of chance. It's a matter of choice. It's not a thing to be waited for, it's a thing to be achieved. Phoenix, you have achieved your destiny, and come Sunday, I WILL achieve mine!

Kole grabs the sides of the camera, shoving the man to the side. The picture remains focused, however more now on the body of Kole as a whole.

I am ready to meet my "maker", but whether my "maker" is prepared for the great ordeal of meeting me, is another matter.

The camera fades with a screen shot of Chambers as he walks away with a sadistic laugh.