Bury Your Dead

Its so Quiet Here...



Pathetic. That’s what Kitten has proved to be. Shadow stands inside a funeral home, staring at a cold steel coffin. This coffin is not full. No Shadow is not insane, he is not cutting a promo in front of someone’s deceased relative. No instead, Shadow is standing there in front of the empty, closed casket, staring down at the smooth steel. His hand runs over the metal, leaving a little trail where the warmth of his fingers pass over the cold lid. Shadow has spent the past two days in hiding from everyone else. Two days of self reflection and meditation. Control, that’s what Shadow has been focusing on. He has to maintain control over his mind and his emotions. Then in a few days he can just let go.

Shadow: So he intends to kill me.

Shadow looks down at the final resting place. He doesn’t seem afraid or worried, his tone is very dismissive. Kitten is not registering as a life threatening risk. Now Shadow is still taking the match very seriously, he has just blown off what Kitten has been saying, well more repeating. As Shadow thinks he slips both hands under the lip of the coffin, and then he lifts. It pops open revealing a white silk lining.

Shadow: Why do people spend so much on something they will never actually experience?

Aside from the lush interior, there is a LCD screen on the underside of the lid. It is fed to a small DVD player located at the foot of the casket. Why someone would need this was beyond Shadow. He remembers the coffins of the nineties, the funerals he attended. Like to one for ‘Burnout.’ The man was one hell of a wrestler, and his coffin was simple; just a plain wooden casket with purple satin padding. It probably cost his family about a grand. This casket though, this steel sarcophagus cost nearly ten grand. It was where Victor planned on sending him in just a matter of days. But what Kitten didn’t realize is that the line of people who promised to kill and end Shadow stretched around the block. What’s more important than that is the line of people were all livid, not because of Shadow in general, but because they could not succeed. Moreover, not only would these people screw up and fall before getting the chance to end Shadow’s life, they would fail at coming across as a threat. It was completely predictable, and downright annoying, having to dance to the same song all over again. The only difference between Kitten and that line of people; is that Shadow was indifferent to the others. No with Victor he wanted to let out some frustrations. There is a different between jackasses who need a lesson in manners, and the sick twisted little emo freaks who enjoyed pain. So when Shadow gets to that ring at Christmas Chaos, he had to make sure he enjoyed the violence a little bit more than Kitten ever could.

Shadow: I bet it would be comfortable to lie in.

He presses a hand against the fabric on the bottom. But only an idiot would climb into an airtight casket with no one else around. That’s exactly what Shadow needed, he needed to get trapped into a coffin and die before his match. Then Shadow could be given a Darwin award. He carefully lowers the lid of the coffin and walks away from it. Finally we see the rest of the room. Shadow is in the chapel of the funeral home, on a Thursday night. Lights from the parking lot shine in through the stained glass on one side. As Shadow walks away he walks between the two columns of pews, black wooden benches lined with purple cushions. There are a few lit candles on the candelabra behind the coffin, next to the pulpit. A heavy creepy vibe stirs in this place. Shadow takes a seat on the third row. He is not a religious man, so it seems odd that Shadow would be in a place like this, a house of worship. But he calmly takes a seat, letting his coat fall beneath him, not allowing it to bunch up under his ass. Shadow leans back and looks at the coffin.

Shadow: Comfy.

Despite what others might be thinking, Shadow is not fantasizing about Kitten’s funeral. He is not even thinking about putting Victor in the coffin before them. No instead Shadow is just contemplating what would turn someone to a life of hatred, a life swelling with a thirst for death. All Victor wanted to do was hurt someone, and move on to the next ‘victim.’ But because of what happened right before, after and a couple of weeks ago, Victor couldn’t move on. While he seems focused on the fact he lost in a one on one match, Victor has blocked out the memory of being on the losing end in all three matches he faced Shadow in.

Shadow: He must have been traumatized as a child. Name the cliché, father crept into the bedroom, kids shoved his head into a toilet, mother field dressed his cat, whatever you might want to believe.

Everyone knows it takes a lot to twist someone into a man like Kitten. After everything that has happened to him, he has become something else, a shell of the man he used to be years ago. While a psychologist would have a field day with Victor, the man needed something else. He was far beyond help, well professional help. Shadow knew how to deal with people like him. There was no giving in, you just had to show them exactly who the meanest mutt in the pound was. Kitten wasn’t frightening, he was amusing and redundant.

Shadow: I wonder if he knows what he tells himself. Like does he listen to what he says? Or maybe he writes trying to convince himself of something. That whole explanation of his Dungeon and Dragons stat points, trying to show himself ways not to fail and the only thing we agree upon is do not be like Jesse Nunez. But Victor thinks that people pay to come see him. I cannot remember the last time I heard something so ridiculous. Fans do not pay to watch him wrestle, they pay to watch him get his ass kicked.

Shadow leans forward and puts his arms on the pew in front of him. The lights in the chapel dim a little more. A wind gently whips down the aisle and blows out the candelabra. Shadow exhales as he rises just as smoke comes off the smoldering wicks. He turns to the door of the funeral home, almost as if he was expecting to see someone standing there, but he is alone. Shadow walks into the aisle.

Shadow: Kitten can define what it takes to win a match as many times as he wants, it doesn’t mean he will win. There is only one formula to success in this business: win. Everyone has a different method; some do it by any means necessary. On the other hand, Shadow never quits, he never gives up. The man will fight until he cannot stand anymore. That is a quality that Victor will never be able to match. He can try as much as he wants, he will always give in.

With his back to the pulpit Shadow walks out of the chapel and into the lobby of the funeral home. It’s darker in here. He keeps walking, with the emergency lighting the only thing lit. The ambiance is almost astral, like Shadow is dreaming again, but not this time. He makes his way to the rear entrance to the funeral home and opens the unlocked door. No alarm goes off. Outside Shadow sees the graveyard under the new moon. It’s so dark outside, visibility is only twenty feet. Shadow walks through the graveyard, careful not to disturb the resting spirits. Because of the cool air and the warm ground a thin misty fog has developed. Shadow slowly moves through the graveyard looking for an open grave.

Shadow: Yea as I walk through the valley of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art a fool, Victor Kitten. I have had to listen to you bitch and moan about destroying me for months. What would have made you credible is if you had at least defeated me at some point. Instead all you have done is lose; it’s what you do best. Spending hours on end, complaining about losing and how I am nothing compared to you, that is what you think will change things.

As he passes a large mortar crucifix grave-marker, Shadow places his hands on it, wiping some of the moss from the aging stone. He turns behind the grave and starts walking down a row, still staying off the graves themselves. It has to be about three in the morning. There is still a soft wind that carefully lifts Shadow’s hair as he walks.

Shadow: Darkness, pure darkness; that is not innately evil. It’s something that Victor cannot comprehend. He spins his yarns about being an abomination, a monstrous man, yet he is just simply evil. Anyone can be evil, but Victor wants to be dark. And while walking through he at night does not darken my aura, it’s just a calm place to be at. Death is calm, quiet, and peaceful. I came here to think. I won’t kill Victor, its stupid to make that kind of threat. I have no desire to end anyone’s life, or their career. I am better than that.

Shadow finds a two person bench next to a grave marked with an angel for a tombstone. He sits down next to the grave and ponders for a moment in the chilly evening air. The only sound, other than Shadow’s footsteps, was the soft breeze. Aside from that, there was nothing; no birds, no animals or even cars. Shadow was alone. He somberly looks over the tomb before him as he inhales the night air.

Shadow: If it were only so simple of a battle between good and evil this could be handled as such, but it’s not. No this is someone wishing they were something else, fighting me. Victor, wishing he was really everything he says he was, and then there is me; I have lived up to everything I swore to be. What does Victor have to show for it? Nothing, nothing but revelries of the past. I try not to remind people of my past glories, not unless they want me to dig it up.

He stands and starts walking again.

Shadow: There is no need for me to do that. Everything I have done since before Rasslemania doesn’t matter here. It’s everything I have done since. Maybe one day he will realize his glory days are long gone and by living in the past he is too blind in the present to watch his future slip away. And that’s why I have regressed to the dark. Not because I have to be sadistic to defeat him, but because it’s who I used to be. That’s who I was. It was what made me unstoppable. I loved living it up with the A.K.A. and just whipping ass, while playing poker or drinking between fights. But deep down inside I knew that I would one day return to the dark circle. Pain is more than just physical. It can be emotional or even psychological. It’s too bad I have to do it all at once. But no matter, Victor will learn why people once feared the dark. He will get to see what made me vengeance, destruction and anarchy. He will see what made me the man I am today.

He stops walking once again. Before him now is an empty grave, with fresh dirt piled next to it. Six feet, that’s how deep they bury the dead, six feet to keep the stench from permeating the soil. All that dirt, so loose, clean and ready. It will cover someone tomorrow, bury them. While Shadow would love to bury Victor the way Victor did to Jesse Nunez, that is not who Shadow was. There was a difference between the two. Victor wanted to be a monster, and Shadow was the kind of man who controlled the monsters. That was the best way to put it. Victor could smile all he wanted and feel giddy, with the thought he would walk all over Shadow, but the truth of the matter would always be this: How can you brag about being better than someone when you have lost every single time you faced them?

Staples Center, Los Angeles, Christmas Chaos, Saturday Morning

It’s been two weeks since Shadow saw anyone he really knew. He spent the time between the end of Overdrive till now alone. Shadow is not in the A.K.A. office this time either. As far as we know there is no office set up for the Christmas Show. Instead, Shadow has found his own locker room, and set his stuff in there. He knows the dangers of being alone, Victor could try and attack him at any time, try and make sure Shadow would not make it to the match that’s just hours away. But Shadow did not care, not now. He knew what he was walking into, and to tell the truth, he looked forward to it. Shane West was coming, Shadow could sense it. This was not some ESP ability, Shadow just knew that Shane would be getting to Shadow’s locker room as quickly as possible to conduct the interview that Shadow arranged. It would be more effective to use the guy who pissed off the A.K.A, by never knocking and walking through the walls of the office. It would show the change between the Shadow before, and how he is now. The physical appearance was the same, so was the performance, but the methods, they were new. Shadow’s voice was deeper not, more growl-like.

Shadow: I give him five minutes.

He lowers his head and begins unpacking his gear for tonight. All that ‘90’s metal bum crap’ as Victor called it. Shadow didn’t see how that worked, a leather duster, leather pants, that was more eighties for one and two the designs were face from metal. Everything was infused with a pagan or gothic persona. Victor was just a moron. Even Shadow’s hair was more eighties, but then again the old wrestlers from the golden age, they wore their hair long and down for all to see. It was like Samson’s source of power. What Victor was thinking no one knew, or cared, but Shadow took pride in so many things about himself. Even Victor’s comments couldn’t make him question his own abilities. Maybe if Victor had said something with some merit it would have made an impact, but like his matches, Victor abruptly failed.

Shadow: Any minute now.

Truth be told, Shane was rushing to this interview. Everyone was wondering where Shadow had spent the past two weeks. No one, not even Slade heard from him. So what had Shadow been doing, would he talk about it? That’s what Shane wanted to know. Furthermore, Shane had questions about how Shadow was doing. So many things had happened this month that needed answers. Shane was hauling ass to through the locker room area looking for Shadow’s door. As he was frantically looking for the interview of a life time, Shadow calmly hung his jacket up in the locker, as well as his pants and his shirt for tonight. While he used to pack two to three different sets of gear, tonight Shadow only brought this one outfit. There was not denying the change, and Shadow wanted to make sure everyone knew what he was doing. Finally Shane West reached the door to Shadow’s locker room. His hand rapped against the door twice as he looked to the camera man.

Shane: You ready? Just don’t say anything, let me do all the talking.

Shadow: Enter!

His back remained to the door as Shadow slipped on his jacket when they came in. He may not be in his attire for tonight, but a plain black T shirt and the leather duster would give him enough of a transition to his character to match. Shane and the cameraman enter the locker room and Shadow turns to face them. Shane does not waste any time, he already has the camera on like a reporter going for the scoop. He rushes across the room and immediately begins asking questions.

Shane: Shadow, Shadow! You’ve been missing in action since Overdrive where have you---?

West stops dead in his tracks as he sees Shadow, standing there, his hair draped down over his face. The look has barely changed, but there is something else, something ominous.

Shane: Sha-Shadow?

Shadow: It’s me Shane. You know I called you for a reason: You have questions, I have answers. There is not much time. Where have I been? I’ve been in L.A, all over Los Angeles, to be exact. I’ve spent my time alone for a reason, because when taking on someone like Victor, you cannot have anything to lose, like friends. You have to protect the people you care about by distancing yourself from them,

West is a little taken aback. He does not know how to respond and what question to ask next. After a few seconds Shadow exhales, blowing his hair forward a little.

Shadow: If you want to ask something then do it.

Shane: How, how, how do you feel about what happened on the last Overdrive of the year in what could be called the greatest match to take place on Overdrive?

Shadow: The match that resulted in me losing the Overdrive title. How do I feel? Fine. Let me spin you a story. I came here to break away from a curse. I have said it before, that I never thought I was going to win a singles title. Well I did, twice. I won the Overdrive title and became the longest reigning Overdrive Champion I lost it, do I plan on pursuing the belt again? Maybe. But I did what I wanted to do, I broke my curse. The real reason I am not adamantly seeking a rematch is because it was never about the gold Shane. Everyone wonders why someone would wrestle when they didn’t want a belt. Wrestling is not about titles, its about prestige and honor, something Victor has no interest in. You can win all the titles in the world Shane, but if you don’t me a damn thing to wrestling you will be remember as a champion who didn’t deserve it. However, your legacy will live on if you are phenomenal. I lost the title to Biggs, But I will always be remember for what I did when I was champion. That is what it takes to e a wrestler to know when to walk away. You don’t beat a dead horse.

Shane: A dead horse?

Shadow: Exactly

The former Overdrive Champion stands there breathing slowly.

Shane: Well what do you have to say about what Victor H-

Shadow: Kitten.

Shane: Wait, why do you call him that?

Shadow: Because of what he represents

Shane: Violence, mayhem and death?

Shadow: No, that’s what he wants to represent. Victor is just a sham. He pretends to be violent to strike fear into the heart of those he faces, but he hasn’t. All he does is piss people off by taking things too far. It’s a surprise that President Jeff has not fired his ass for being such a danger. Victor cannot stand losing, but he does it all the time. When he loses he snaps and fixates on the next person and so on and so forth. His unhealthy fixation has now be focused on me. He has come after me time and again, only to fall every time. His failures his lies, do not earn him the name of a god, only that of a harmless, fluffy, animal.

He pauses for a moment then continues.

Shadow: Now as for what he has to say about me. Lets start simple. I do not act like a Texan. I spend most of my time being myself. I do not ride horses, farm, or even wear cowboy boots. Neither does Slade. The only time I have, was for that one ring promo. I don’t understand how Victor thinks I do all those things. So as for name calling, if he wants to go back to kindergarten he needs to bone up a little, actually find something about me to insult, not just make an ass out of himself. Importantly enough, Slade is sober, he doesn’t drink anymore, and he can’t, not if he wants to keep wrestling. Once again, Victor has shown how little he knows me. All he has done is lump me in with a stereotype, nothing even remotely effective. And he apparently photoshops pictures of people who look only faintly like us into weird even more disturbing photos. Someone has too much time on their hands and should have been doing their research. If a person ahs the time to look up that photo and doctor it, they shouldn’t be calling others homosexual. Now, Victor wants to know if I have ever faced a former A.P.W. World Champion, yes I have, Three of them to be exact, Level One, Michael Lively and even John Green. In addition to that, I have wrestled alongside Pence Weatherlight. Who is Victor? Who is he, what has he done? Nothing Shane, absolutely nothing. So why in the hell would I be riding ‘HIS’ coat tails to the main event? He was never World Champion, so why should he compare himself to them? There has never been someone so full of himself. I made my name for myself here, not Slade, not Assassin. I worked my ass off. I defeated Carl Cage in my second match to become the Overdrive Champion, I have stood my ground against some of the top men to ever be signed to A.P.W. That is who I am Shane, that is who Victor wishes he was. Now after everything he still believes I am nothing. If ignorance is bliss, than Victor must be orgasmic.

Shane: He keeps saying you wish you were him.

Shadow: Does he now?

His tone drops.

Shadow: Well of course, I want to be someone who can’t win a match. Don’t you? Victor needs to understand something. No one wants to be him.

Shane: Shadow?

Shadow: I’ve watched him bully and beat his way through that locker room, every time he ‘makes an impact’ he has attacked someone from behind. His only real success is that. And he wants to talk about how he was outnumbered, his big public failure. No he was not out numbered, he walked into that. He tried to jump me, something both Slade and I knew he was going to do. So we were ready, and Slade stayed out of it, for the most part.

A dark grin can be seen beneath Shadow’s hair.

Shadow: If Victor was as intelligent as he claims to be, he wouldn’t have done that. He would have jumped me backstage, but he wanted everyone to see. Hubris, that’s the only Greek thing about Victor. He keeps thinking no one can touch him, but when the moment comes, the gods try to teach him humility. Thing about Victor is that thick skull of his. Nothing sticks. One more time, one more time, I will show him why he falls He is just like Strange. I beat Strange on Overdrive once, then he kept swearing he was going to kill me when he came after the Overdrive Championship. He kept swearing my life would end. What happened? I beat him a second time as well. This is the same story, Victor faced me on Overdrive, and is facing me at a pay per view. I plan on repeating the same story all over again. Only this time, I think the more effective way to just delve a little into the dark side for this.

Shane: Shadow, wait, wait. Is that why…why are you dressed like this?

Shadow: Shane, don’t ask another stupid question. I liked it, Shane. I liked being the ass kicking beast I was. But things change. Sometimes to make a point, you have to become something more. Victor thinks he has torn me down, broken me into a lesser version of myself. No, I am just opening up.

He leans his head back, his face still masked by his hair. As he exhales we barely get to see a glimpse of his face.

Shadow: He should welcome this, its what he has been waiting for. A real beast. But there is still a defining point between us, I pull the strings, not him.

West is stammering with every question he asks, uncertain of what he should be saying. He is worried that sooner or later he is going to say something that gets him hurt. But Shadow is not the kind of guy who will hurt an innocent. He is not a monster, not that kind. Shadow is a good man. Just because he has regressed into darkness, doesn’t mean Shadow is evil. Evil can be dark or light. Evil is choice, Victor’s choice.

Shane: And your future, what about it?

Shadow: What about it indeed? Victor seems to think I plan on being World Champion, no Slade is going to take that. Why would I want to take something my friend has earned? No I pose a question to you Shane, what do you think is going through Victor’s mind? After everything he rambled on about, everything that made no sense. What could be going through his head? Something has to be to make a man spew out a bunch of generic drab that doesn’t apply to me at all. What do you think Victor is thinking about as he sits in his little dark corner writing in his diary?

Shane- Uh, I uh?

He shakes his head as Shadow loudly responds.

Shadow: Rhetorical question Shane.

Shane: What do you mean?

Shadow: That I either already know the answer or I just don’t care. Actually its both.

Shane- Uh, ok?

Shadow: Victor isn’t afraid, only intelligent creatures show fear. No he is just raging. Like a weeping, angry child who got their head shoved in the toilet. He just wants blood, nothing else. When he is done here he will move on to the next person. But it doesn’t matter anymore. L.A. the Staples center, the barb wire cage match. Its all moot Shane. All of it. Because even if this was his birthplace, it’s not his home. Those people are not anxious to see him. They will boo him, hate him and cheer when he falls. I want to say I am going out there for the people, to silence Victor and ease their migraines. But I’m not, no this time I am going out there for me. That look of depression on his face, that tear rolling down his cheek when he loses again, and the sound of the roaring fans loving the expression the see, the pain in his mind. I want to be the one who causes him that unforgettable pain when he realizes he is nothing more than a fraud and that everything he ever wanted to be is standing over him with a look of satisfaction on my face. The fans will rejoice yes, and they will love it, but this time, this one time, is not for them, its for me. Because I have to say I am sick and –beep-ing tired…

As Shadow says this Shane’s eyes go wide. The A.K.A. usually remain from explicit profanity because it is not needed, usually I stress. Shadow continues on.

Shadow: of that ignorant, repetitive, delusional idiot rambling on about how he is so great. The man ended one career here in A.P.W, Jesse Nunez. Who cares?! It’s not something to brag about. Victor no one cares, nobody but you. The reason you keep bringing up the past is because you haven’t done jack about the present, and its why you have no future as anything here. Just another guy who forces his opponents to carry a match. You talentless, simpering jackass. I have to show you what it means to be a beast. You have to have someone show you everything. So I am doing this for myself, to just go out there and decimate you and leave you laying in a pile of your own humiliation and regret. The fans will love it, I know they will, but after tonight, nothing will ever be the same. I’ve played around long enough, I’ve let you bore and irritate and numb the minds of everyone for far too long. It’s over Kitten, tonight I am going to show you who the better man is, just like I did right after One Night in Hell, Just like I did to Strange. Victor gets to see, he gets to remember the moment, when his world comes crashing down, and I reign.

Shadow flips his hair back for the first time revealing his face, its slightly painted tonight. For the first time ever Shadow has decorated his face in A.P.W. And with all the time between now and bell time it’s a known face he will have to reapply the make up later but to Shane’s shock he sees what Shadow has done. Dark eye sockets, a long grey line down over one eye, and grey lining the hairline. His face stands out, his white and brown eyes very boldly defined. It’s where Shadow wants everyone to look. His eyes they tell a story. The story of victory.

Its several hours later, in the night once again. Shadow is standing in the center of the ring after Christmas Chaos. Blood has stained the mat, and Shadow’s wounds are bandaged. He stands alone, the view close on his torso and face. He is looking down on someone, or something. The makeup on his face smeared by sweat and blood, but the majority of it is still there. Shadow stands looking down with darkness all around him. It’s another dream. His gaze remains focused on the ring before him, but no one can see what it is. Even in this dream of the future Shadow is breathing hard.

Shadow: It was the only way this could end.

He keeps staring at the floor.

Shadow: After everything only one of us could remain standing. But you wouldn’t quit, you said it yourself. You had to be stopped. I did what I had to do.

The view pulls away and we finally see what Shadow is looking at. It’s a combination of the graves from before. It’s a crucifix with an angels mounted on either side at the base. Then there is an open grave with an abundance of fresh, loose soil next to the hole. Shadow is looking down into this grave, which is carved into the center of the ring. But this is a dream so a grave in the middle of the ring makes sense. Shadow is looking down into the grave and we see the headstone. But surprisingly enough it does not say Victor on it, it says Steve Ryback.

Shadow: Goodbye, brother.

He turns his head as the dirt is pushed over into the open grave. Nothing is actually moving the dirt, it just is. As Shadow walks away he wakes ups.

Laying on the bench in his own locker room Shadow’s eyes flutter open. This time he is not sweating, nor has his breath sped up. Instead he is calm, completely calm. Shadow knows why he dreamt this, he knows why he went to the graveyard. It was to find the proper place to bury himself, to bury his other half. To be the man he used to be, Shadow had to let go. Guilt and humanity are just a bag of bricks. All you have to do is set them down. After a few seconds Shadow sits up and hears the roar of the crowd. Christmas Chaos has begun, but the real Chaos is about to be unleashed.