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Previously
Shadow and Victor Round 1
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Standing in the dark corridors.
The smoke, dust and ashes still settle
Saturday December 12th, 2:00 AM
The war is over. In the aftermath of everything only one person remains, the shell. There is no anger, no hatred or remorse. Shadow ended his war at Rival Factions. He did it then, what happened on Overdrive was something else. Shadow refused to stay down, in the end they both fought until there was nothing left. Over the years Shadow went from the Dark Circle, to Ass Kicker, to Gladiator and now he returned to his roots. Shadow knew what he wanted, after Rival Factions his thirst for vengeance was quelled. Shadow had to prove something to himself after Shockwave that Biggs’ original victory was a fluke. Shadow needed to know he could beat Biggs, that’s exactly what he did. Overdrive was Biggs trying to prove he could stand toe to toe with Shadow, which he did. Shadow was not angry, he attained his goal. Now someone else wanted to pursue a similar goal, Victor Hades. As Shadow roamed through the locker rooms of the darkened Staples
Center in Los Angeles, he could imagine the visage of Hades in the shadows. There was something strange about all this. He was not chasing Hades, but Victor was pursuing him. Not in the terrifying way either, Victor Hades is not frightening. No instead Hades is trying to reach Shadow, to reach Shadow’s level. The corridors are dimly illuminated with the back up lighting, one lamp every twenty feet or so. In the darkness Hades moves while Shadow walks. There are no echoes; sound does not carry in this place. Hades is in the distance, always hiding and waiting for his moment. He cannot face Shadow head to head, we have seen that before. Hades is too big a coward, a mere playground bully; one Shadow has disposed of before. One, he will do so to again.
“Good Morning Neverland!”
Bob Hoskins’ voice blares over the television in Shadow’s hotel room as he awakens from his dream. Shadow sits up, wincing once again, the moment reminiscent of the days after One Night in Hell. The room is similar. Tokyo, LA, hotel rooms are all the same. Shadow lays there as dawn is not even a thought on the horizon’s mind. Texas is two hours faster than California, what’s seven in the morning there, is only five here. He gets out of bed and walks to the restroom, flips the switch and starts running the water in the sink. As Shadow runs his hands under the faucet he feels the shiver of cold run through him. Then he splashes the water on his face and looks at himself in the mirror. An aged man looks back, not elderly but aged. Shadow has traveled all over the world, fought in some of the hardest battles and now he is showing it. These were the days of the weary. After this war, Shadow still felt a winner. He silenced his opponent.
Biggs could ramble on all he wants, but Shadow still beat him. Shadow would always have that knowledge. As he walks from the bathroom, Shadow wipes his hands dry on his jeans. On the television “Hook” plays loudly, Shadow doesn’t even remember what it was on when he went to sleep last night.
Shadow: Good movie, not in the mood.
He clicks the remote and shuts it off. Shadow had spent the past week in isolation. He knows he should be spending time with his friends, keeping in touch with his sanity, but that’s not something Shadow can do. Not with what’s coming. There is a storm on the horizon. Shadow has to face Victor Hades once again, this guy flat out refuses to quit. Even though Hades has lost every match he has taken part in with Shadow, he still wants to fight him. It didn’t make sense. Shadow didn’t even start this bull shit battle with Hades. No, Shadow was backstage minding his own business when a drugged up psycho whose drug of choice was Angel Dust, grabbed him and threatened him. Hades was a moron. So he wanted to try and be the big dog. Finally Shadow took on Victor right before One Night in Hell, and what happened? Hades got his ass kicked. Sure it was not one on one. That came right after One Night in Hell, when Shadow needed to get his
frustrations out. As he sat there thinking, Shadow could only hear his own voice in his head.
Shadow: Hades, Hades, Hades. You don’t deserve that name. All you ever do is bitch and moan about how you are so destructive, and you are going to make people pay. It’s so bleeding boring. How you get booked anywhere is a mystery to me. But I have to listen you cry and scream and cut yourself because no one gives a damn about you. Some big Billy bad ass you are. Slade was right, you’re name from now on is Kitten.
As far as Shadow was concerned Kitten was a joke. No man, in his right mind, demands a barb wire cage match. Hell, Shadow did not want to take part in that kind of crap. Who would? This isn’t an extreme match, Shadow wasn’t Xtreme Champion. Kitten wanted to pull that bull; he could take it up with Cyrus.
Shadow: How can a man like you actually get signed here? You obviously have issues: major mood swings reflecting bipolar tendencies, habitual drug use, self mutilation, repressed homosexual desires. Jeff should have sent you to the wacko-basket months ago. All you ever talk about is “No one. Blah, blah, blah, sadistic, rabble, rabble, rabble, pathetic, boo hoo, someone kicked my ass.” God it’s like a broken record.
He sits there remembering each of the three matches he has been a part of with Victor. It was ridiculous. Every match he screamed the same thing, a bunch of obscenities followed by a definition of how brutal he is and how everyone else doesn’t understand that definition, so he says it again. It’s like watching a stripper give a paraplegic a lap dance; it makes absolutely no sense. Victor thought Shadow was some has washed up has been, that he could walk right over. Instead, Shadow was the force who stopped tornados in their tracks. There was no one who could deny Shadow’s potential, and when Victor decided to piss Shadow off, he was able to experience an extent of that.
Shadow: Can someone tell me what kind of world we live in, where a man dressed like a transvestite gets all the attention? This town needs an enema.
As he runs his hands through his hair, Shadow gets up and starts pacing around the room. He isn’t even thinking about Biggs anymore. Shadow knows better than to cry over spilt milk. Plus he also knows when something has run his course and when something is in good hands. All of these things spelt bad news for that little leprechaun. Shadow wasn’t worried about the title, he did what he wanted to do, prove he could beat Biggs in a straight fight. Pence would handle the rest. He was a good man, he would make a good champion. Shadow was going back to garbage duty, it was time to really take out the trash.
Shadow: He’s a tired old emo, can’t work a match without someone to hold his hand. Victor has been tolerated long enough, it’s time to remind him why he has loses most of his matches.
Shadow gets up and grabs his tattered jacket and throws it on. The worn and broken leather shows the signs of a true fighter, something Victor can never be. Victor is just a mad man, someone who thinks being vicious and violent is the only way to eliminate people. He is not a thinker, more a barbarian. All Victor wants to do is smash, he cannot comprehend the means to really win a fight, it’s why he has only won the matches he has. It’s embarrassing to be Victor Kitten, that’s what he has to live with every day he fails at killing himself and is forced to wake up then look at himself. Victor can ramble on as much as he wants, he has proved absolutely nothing, aside from showing what a joke he is. Shadow owed somebody an all out ass kicking, not because of last week on Overdrive, but because he had to face Victor once again, after beating him, hell, Shadow had to face Victor after being in three matches, all of which Victor lost. At least
Shadow was able to beat Biggs in half of their matches. What did Victor have to show for the past three month of fighting? Shadow had places to be today. He needed to get a camera. He was not in the mood to talk to anyone, no he just wanted to fight. The man had a lot of frustrations and anger to get out. Victor was going to be the man he let loose upon.
As Shadow reenters his hotel room, he carries a couple of bags from Radio Shack. There is a loud clatter as he dumps the contents onto the bed and begins rummaging through them. Amidst the boxes, are some lights, a tripod, and a personal video camera. Shadow is preparing his own video interview. This is not something he does usually, mainly because Shadow is not very technologically savvy. It becomes apparent as he opens the boxes and becomes entangled in the cords. After ten minutes of trying, Shadow has the camera on the stand and the lights set up but no power routed to anything. It would be easier if he had simple wall jacks on everything, but the camera wants to route to a power supply while the lights are white jacks that can be plugged into a camera and fed from there. Another ten minutes pass and Shadow finally has everything turned on. Sadly, he has nothing routed to his laptop.
Shadow: How they hell am I supposed to do this?
He types on his computer, and begins searching for programs. Nothing on his computer seems to link to the camera. After a minute or so, Shadow starts playing solitaire. When he loses the game, he gets up and lies down on the bed, knocking the box that the camera came in. Out pops a software CD. Immediately Shadow remembers what he was supposed to be doing, he grabs the CD and puts it into his laptop. Finally after thirty five minutes of work, Shadow has the laptop tied to the camera, and all the lights on. Now he just has to finish setting everything else up. In another bag, from Home Depot, Shadow has several pieces of PVC piping and some black cloth. He begins building a backdrop for his personal promo. This is a lot easier to do than rig up a bunch of electronics. As Shadow finishes that up quickly he prepares himself for his upcoming promo. He is not emo, he does not need black make up. No instead Shadow puts on all his old wrestling
attire: a Dark Circle shirt, which consists of a black shirt with an equilateral pentagram surrounded by a circle on the center, then some black pants with the symbol for anarchy on it. Finally Shadow puts on his old coat and sets up a chair in front of the camera. As Shadow types into the laptop, he sets it up to run a live stream onto apw.com, something else he has never done before. He sets the laptop on the floor in front of him and then moves the chair out of the way. It’s practically good to go, he cues up the camera and hits record. It is time to voice his opinion.
Shadow: There are so many things I should be doing. For instance, I should be at home, getting ready for Christmas, buying Dita a nice present, and preparing a luscious Christmas Dinner for myself and friends. Instead, I am here, alone. Why would I choose to be by myself right now? Because I know it’s better for everyone else. While some would assume that this is a fall out from what happened on the final Overdrive of the year. Well they can assume whatever the hell they want, truth is: Its because I have to face Victor Kitten in a retarded barb wire cage match. I went to Jeff and asked him what I did to piss him off. And I wasn’t trying to sound like a whiney bitch or anything, it just didn’t make any sense that out of every match on that card Kitten and I are in that kind of match. Jeff turned around and responded the Victor made the match that way. He felt it would make him seem like more of a man.
He leans his head back and exhales.
Shadow: Victor, you honestly think that fighting me in a barb wire cage match will make up your inadequacies? It’s pathetic, just like you. All you ever do is whine about how you are going to make a come back and how people like Pence and I are these hollow, empty, glass figurines that can be easily obliterated. Yet everything you do, every time you make this claim, you prove to everyone watching what a buffoon you really are. You have beaten two people on your own here in A.P.W. John Green, and Jesse Nunez. Wow. Guess what sweetheart? I did that too. So did everyone else here, well everyone but Slade, Green actually whipped his ass. But Victor you keep running your mouth about making a comeback, from wherever you originated from, and I have no idea who you even are, other than a perpetual pain in my ass.
He starts rubbing his chin as he talks.
Shadow: I’m pissed, I’ll admit it, but like I said before, it has nothing to do with Biggs, despite popular belief. No Victor, I’m simply pissed at you. You couldn’t leave well enough alone could you? Ever since Slade’s match with Jesse Nunez you have had a problem with me. You tried to jump me that day, throw your weight around, and then got your ass handed to you in the big eight man tag match. What happened after that? Well you came after me right after One Night in Hell. For what reason? You couldn’t handle loss is all I can assume. You bragged about beating Jesse Nunez, something redundant in itself, then what happened? Let me remind you what you promised. You told everyone I would be carried out on a stretcher, that I would not be able to walk out under my own power. What did I do Victor? I made you eat your own words when I laid you out with the Eclipse. Stop trying to tell everyone how brutal and destructive you are,
your name is Victor Kitten, it implies nothing fearsome, only cuddly, which is irritating unto itself for a professional wrestler. Victor, I will admit there have been weeks where you beat me down, but let us recap on what factors allowed you to attack me. Well first you had help from your ‘friend’ Biggs, other times you would jump me when I wasn’t looking. After being humiliated in front of everybody you were forced to go write in your little journal, take some anti-depressants, and weep because you got your beat. After all that your only resolve was to try and look like some Neanderthal alpha male by attacking me from behind. But that brings me to my favorite moment. When you thought you could get the better of me. Now you may have said we set you up, the fans will agree you interrupted a well done promo. Had you left the ring, you wouldn’t have been attacked, but like an emo kid writing poetry you had to let it all out. You attacked
me, and got your ass handed to you, then Craven added insult to injury, you remember that pretty well don’t you spanky?
A smile creeps across Shadow’s face. He knows that the retaliation was something that utterly pissed Victor off. Men who pride themselves on being brutal and sadistic hate being made a fool of. This was something the A.K.A. excelled in. They were great at making someone look like a total jackass.
Shadow: A barb wire cage match, why in god’s name would you go to Jeff and beg for him to grant you such a match? Victor you have prove your violent nature, time and time again, I will give you that. After every attack, every violent outburst and all your profanity you have shown everyone you are a violent man. But Victor you have to understand, when you lose at Christmas Chaos, its going to confirm that while you are a violent man you are just another man who is full of piss and wind. You can’t follow through with your convictions. I will though, and I have. Everything I have strived to do here in A.P.W. I have done it, I don’t lie and I am not a coward. Kitten, you are both. At Christmas Chaos, I am going to compete in your match, not because I want to but because I have to. I would much rather us just duke it out, but no, you want some bizarre match to try and boost your career. Jeff knows my stance on crazy off the wall matches.
They shorten careers and unless they have a definitive purpose, they are only to make crap matches look half decent. Kitten, you want to know what I am capable of, fine, I will do just that. You’ve pissed me off in the past weeks more that Biggs ever did, and there will not be Chaos in our match. No there is no Chaos between us, just a storm, a powerful and focused storm. Inside that cage, you will see what true strength is, true resolve. Like I said, no Chaos, this is going to be too organized for that. Every move, every strike, coordinated, perfectly placed. You will learn Kitten, exactly why I am hated by few, envied by many and feared by all!
Shadow lowers his head and lets his hair drift down over his face. Shadow takes a deep breath and exhales as he moves his foot to click a button on the touch pad cutting off the camera’s feed. After the feet cuts off Shadow flips his hair back and begins putting away his equipment.
Later that night.
Shadow is leaning over the railing looking down towards the floor of the Staples Center. He is alone, and probably should not be here. Everyone working for A.P.W. has gone home for the night, even the security team is a skeletal crew. They never even saw him enter, but then again Shadow does not remember entering. The lights are dim, too dim. Shadow is still wearing the wrestling attire he wore in his promo earlier today. His hair is draped down in front of his face once again as he leans down to look over the ring. It’s completely assembled, and hanging above the ring is what looks to be the barb wire cage. Shadow is not looking at it though. He does not want to look, not because he is afraid, he doesn’t need to get any more ideas.
Shadow: You really have no idea what you’re in for this weekend.
Steve: Really now?
Behind Shadow is standing a cleaner version of himself. It’s another dream. The one behind him is wearing his A.K.A. clothing, with his hair pulled into a ponytail. It’s Shadow’s real identity, Steve Ryback.
Steve: And what am I in for this weekend?
Shadow: Things have changed, forever. There is no going back from this.
Steve- People have made their choices, they have left us with this decision. I am prepared for the wake of this tidal wave.
Shadow: No, you aren’t
He looks up to the rafters where we see him finally staring at the barb wire cage. It looks sadistic, twisted, unforgiving. Shadow gazes back over his shoulder to his other half. Shadow has an understanding of what he intends to do to Victor this weekend.
Shadow: It’s easy to just say we were driven to this brother, but truth be told, we wanted this. It’s been far too long since we fought this way. And because so much time has past a lot of people have forgotten why they once feared the dark.
Some of the lights start to go out, mainly the rest of the lights that remain in the other stands. Now the only lights still barely illuminated are those on the ring and one above Shadow and Steve. Shadow turns to face himself, then behind Steve we see the faint outline of Victor once again. He is on the edge of the darkness, unable to enter, kept at bay. He cannot get inside Shadow’s head, nor is the former Overdrive Champion afraid of him.
Steve: There is a difference between being violent-
He glances back dismissively toward Victor.
Steve: -and being driven to violence. He wants to make an example out of you, show everyone how great he really is. Deep down inside Victor needs this, it’s like a drug. If he were to lose at Christmas Chaos it may finally wake him from his delusional world where he is the god of the underworld and powerful enough to slay any opponent. After beating Green and Nunez, he thinks that has already achieved such a level, when the truth is, he is just another person getting the opportunity of a lifetime. Its just too bad he doesn’t realize it yet.
Shadow: He won’t either. He is too thick headed, all he sees is a body to destroy.
Steve: Perhaps, or he doesn’t see us at all. Regardless of what Victor thinks, he has always assumed that he is better than us. He thinks of us as nothing, and because he has shown us no respect we have returned the same. The difference is, we always acknowledge the fact that he may very well snap inside the ring and do something that is utterly unprofessional and ruin someone’s career, if not his own. On the other hand, Victor just thinks he will walk all over anyone who steps into his path because he simply beat Nunez and Green.
The image of Victor is shown again, it is a static figure, sliding along the edge of the light, only his face is really visible, the rest of him is just an outline. Shadow’s focus has never been on his size, just his face. Lesson one: Always know the face of your enemy.
Steve: We can beat him.
Shadow: We can, and I will. You neglected to mention that to show him exactly what it takes to be the kind of man Victor really wants to be it takes a deeper conviction than he could ever understand. He still clings to some form of morality, just by writing in that journal. No, he wants raw power then he needs to just simply let go, like I have to do with you.
He nods to Steve who stands there, no expression on his face. Shadow’s face is still masked by his hair.
Steve: Like it or not, I still will not be going anywhere.
Shadow: Not exactly, no. You just will be locked away. It has to be this way, maybe one day down the line it can all come back, but Victor needs to be shown who the real monster is. He needs to see exactly what it takes. He needs to feel to understand, and that’s exactly what I intend to do.
Suddenly the lights behind Shadow go out, the ring is blanketed in darkness. Only Steve and Shadow stand under the single light. Steve gazes at Shadow’s unwavering presence.
Steve: How far do you intend to go?
Shadow: As far as it takes. Victor will learn, I will show him.
He lowers his head then flips his hair back. Suddenly Shadow wakes from his dream, a cold sweat on his forehead. He sits up in bed and puts his hands behind him, propping himself up, just breathing hard. He doesn’t speak or move. The dream just keeps playing over in his head. After everything he has been through Shadow feels that familiar feeling creep over him, one of the great and powerful seven deadly sins. He was not the kind of man to give into greed, gluttony or even sloth. No this sin Shadow felt swelling inside him was Wrath. And he was going to unleash it at Christmas Chaos. In the darkness, with the cool sweat dripping down his face, that malevolent smile spread across Shadow’s face.
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