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The New Faces of Fear
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❝ Wrestling is not a love story, it's a Fairy Tale for masochists. A comedy for people who criticize punchlines. A fantasy most can't understand, a spectacle no one can deny. Lines are blurred. Heores are villains. Budgets are cut. Business is business.
But it can also be a land where Dead men walk. Where Honor makes you Elite. Where Demons run for office. And Rock Bottom is a reason to rejoice. WOOOOO! It's an escape. A reason to point the blame at anyone but yourself for 2-3 hours. An excuse to be a kid again, and nothing matters except the moment we are in.
Wrestling is not a love story, it's much more. It's hope.
And in a world surrounded in hate, greed and violence, a world where closure may never come. We all know a place that has hot and cold hope on tap. For better or for worse. - Windham6 ⭕ (1987―2023)
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isn’t it ironic that i could still be the guy to possibly end the streak?
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Well, I expected that to go a bit longer... BUT I'M NOT COMPLAINING
DREW'S CHAMP
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Is... is John dead?
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YOOOOO CULT LEADER BRAY WYATT I LOVE THIS
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At least Aleister’s extremely goth coat can make me feel better
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- - - The Result - - -
Pestilence manifested poorly after Matt left Bray. The Disease forced the formation of the Fiend. Hurt is the Disease. Heal is the Result. The infection manifested through his body to create a split personality, one that is even stronger than the Demon Bálor. The Fiend is the manifestation of Bray’s Pestilence that was originally given to him to repel Sister Abigail (which didn’t work). The Fiend was always there, but the Pestilence hadn’t bothered to manifest anything until Bray became very unstable. In other words, Bray needs the Fiend to survive. What would happen without the Fiend isn’t something that wants to be spoken on, let alone thought of (likely some form of cataclysmic event due to there being no catalyst for disease in the world if Bray collapsed).
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i’m like, aw man, i’m gonna be eggman. they’re gonna make me shave my head. they’re gonna make me shave my eyebrows. i’m gonna be eggman. that’s gonna be my gimmick. … so one day, phone rings. go pick it up.
“hello?” “yeah, is this the undertaker?”
… so i’m thinking in my head, undertaker. that sure as hell ain’t eggman.
“yeah, yeah! this is the undertaker!”
had no clue what that was, what it meant – but it sounded a whole lot cooler than eggman.
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- - - Broken Down - - -
The sound of steel colliding with bone continually echoed through the ears of Shawn. He was watching something he truly didn’t want to be a part of. His best friend was letting his anger eat away at him, Shawn’s old obsession now becoming Hunter’s.
The first shot crumpled that obsession, and the second made him fall. There was no fear traced in the Deadman’s eyes as he kept taking those shots. Shawn looked between the two men; one man folded in half, battling to continue living, and the other standing tall, weapon in hand, ready to send another shot down his opponent’s spine.
The Undertaker attempted to fight back, but every time, he would be knocked back down.
The third shot kept him down.
The fourth was for good measure. The chair in Hunter’s hand was beginning to fold on itself, the impact causing it to bend with every shot. Shawn walked to Hunter, a need to restrain his friend falling before him, “Just cover him!”
The fifth shot came, causing Shawn to cringe as he felt the shot that didn’t even come to him down his body. Hunter was gone…
Six… Seven… Eight… Nine… That was enough. Shawn scrambled forward from his resigned position, grabbing Hunter’s arm to pull him out of his attack. It was for nothing.
Ten. Hunter’s eyes met Shawn’s as he pulled back for a short breath, the wound above Hunter’s eye clearly visible now to Shawn. The pain and adrenaline that this wound had given to Hunter… he wanted blood. He pushed Shawn aside, his eyes locked on the large, crumpled form below his feet.
Eleven. Shawn looked away in disgust. If the Deadman wasn’t completely gone from his husk, he would be soon enough. There was only one thing he could do at this point. He threw himself between Hunter and the Deadman, pushing Hunter back, “Enough is enough! He’s down!” Hunter shrugged Shawn away, going back onto the offensive as his attack was yet to be complete.
Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen was like a crack of thunder across Shawn’s mind that finally woke him from this painful dream. It was truly enough. He took the chair from Hunter, tossing it far enough away that there would be no easy retrieval of it. Shawn was about to speak again before Hunter spun on him, anger the only thing in his body, “You want it done? You end it!”
Shawn shook his head before pointing down to the soulless a few feet away, “Just cover him! It doesn’t have to be like this, and you know he’s not going to quit! Cover him!” Hunter looked at him in disbelief, his glance going between the Undertaker and Shawn. He moved over to the other chair that sat in reach, picking it up gently before Shawn interjected once again, “Just… hold on!”
Shawn scurried over to the Undertaker, who had finally managed to crawl to a place to help him stand, slowly pulling himself to his knees. “Take, it’s one match, come on…” He shrunk back slightly as he watched the defiant eyes of green find his, and all he did was shake his head as an answer. Shawn was thrown backwards away from the Deadman, the force of him hitting the ground making his breath stagger into his throat.
Shot sixteen. Shawn couldn’t take his eyes away as he heard the pained yelp come from the victim of these shots.
Seventeen. Eighteen. Hunter pulled away again, his crazed eyes falling back onto Shawn in anger, “You want it done?! Then you end it! End it!! Or I will!” Shawn’s fearful eyes didn’t leave Hunter as he spoke, afraid that his friend would turn on him if permitted.
He slinked back to the Undertaker when Hunter stepped away, Shawn placing his hand softly onto the cold shoulder of the Deadman, “Please… Let me--”
“Don’t stop it. Don’t stop it. Do not… stop it.” Shawn knew that this man wouldn’t quit… he never did. The Deadman wouldn't stop until his soul was fully dragged away from his body… being six feet under hadn't ever worked before. He tried his best to crawl to his feet, as if he knew that he would only be struck down again.
“Stay down!!” Hunter’s voice rang out once more, causing Shawn to step forward in an attempt to keep him away. “Stay down!” Hunter pushed pass Shawn as he watched the Undertaker stagger upwards, turning to face what was to come next.
The nineteenth shot forced the Deadman back to a crumpled state, yet he still stood.
The twentieth easily shattered whatever was left of his husk. Hunter threw the chair aside, finally seeing his opportunity before him to win this battle. He made the attempt, but it was futile. The defiance of the Undertaker rose up to meet Hunter’s pride, and it made him pull back in a sheer sense of disbelief.
Shawn crawled to meet the defiance face-to-face, grabbing the wrist of the Deadman, “Please…” There was no acknowledgement. From the corner of his eye, Shawn saw the next charge, stumbling upward to attempt to stop it.
Twenty-one. It was enough to push Shawn over the edge. He pushed Hunter back, disbelief hitting him on how something like this could mean so much to try to break a man. There were no morals left in Hunter. Shawn moved back to the Deadman, his eyes filled with a sense of panic when he saw that the man was still moving.
“Take, please… let me call this, please.”
“Don’t stop it, Shawn…” His voice was weak through broken breaths.
Hunter’s voice rang out from feet away, anger still dominant, “End it, Shawn! Or I will! End it or I will!”
Shawn was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He didn’t want to choose what was supposed to happen, but it was going to be about watching this end with two lives, or one. He was fearful that the man he had found endless respect for, the Undertaker, wouldn’t be walking out of this one alive… let alone in one piece.
When Shawn turned around, a new friend had found itself acquainted with Hunter. The chair of twenty-one shots… had been replaced with a single sledgehammer. Shawn forced himself into the face of Hunter, who spoke first, “You end it, or I will!”
“You don’t know what you’re doing!”
“I don’t care! You end it, or I will! You want to be the nice guy, well... I’m not!”
“You know he’s not going to stop!”
“I don’t care, Shawn! I’m ending this, one way or the other!” Shawn’s gaze flashed back to the other corner, watching the Deadman struggle to his feet with support guiding him. “End it, or I will…”
The words echoed through Shawn’s head, taking place for the thunderous cracking of the steel from before. He went back to the man he had watched get beaten to a pulp, hoping his pleas could somehow knock some sense into him. “Let me ring the bell… I’m ringing the bell…” Still, the Deadman shook his head in defiance, pushing Shawn away from him as he still tried to find his feet. “Please! Please let me ring the bell!”
Shawn looked back to Hunter in a sheer plea, but Hunter wasn’t going to take it either. Hunter pushed past him, knocking down the Deadman once more with a shot to the gut from the sledgehammer. Still, the Deadman would not stay down. Hunter grew more and more upset.
A second shot from the hammer was for keeping the Undertaker down. Hunter pushed Shawn to the wayside, beginning to line up a clubbing blow to the skull of this man, trying to put him out for good. Shawn turned back and watched the hammer raise, his eyes widening as he found himself acting on impulse. The hammer was quickly in his hands, and he was cradled on the floor. His eyes found the rage back in his face, “You end it, then! Ring the bell! End it!” Shawn walked forward, watching his friend turn away from him. His eyes went back to the motionless soul on the ground before him, breathing staggered and shallow.
Shawn kneeled down beside him, touching his shoulder again with a sense of sadness coming to him, “I’m sorry…” Shawn stood once more, going to call the fight off before stopping in his tracks. He was picking sides… and he really didn’t want to. His eyes traded off between Hunter, who was still facing away in anger, and the Deadman, who had hardly moved since Shawn had left him. Shawn turned back, but then was faced with Hunter once more.
“End it!”
“I will! I will…” This was enough for Hunter to go back to his corner, and enough time for Shawn to speak one more time with the Undertaker. He moved to the Deadman, his mind filled with worry as he extended his hand as an apology. The next thing he knew, his hand was grabbed and he was dragged down, a leg across his throat and air slowly being cut off from his lungs. He attempted to escape, but knew he wouldn’t. He was stuck in a hold that would sooner have him seeing black than anything else. This was a desperate move… and desperation was deadly.
It only took moments for the sounds of everything to grow fuzzy and distant. He felt sluggish, and warmth rushed to his head. He was out of it. Moments later, he felt the pressure move away from his neck, but he wasn’t moving… not for a while, anyway...
---
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Fight!
#I got so hyped when I saw this#like#i don't think you understand#I was screaming#wwe#aleister black#buddy murphy
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I have a document that I wrote up that is literally just a retelling of the Taker vs. Trips HIAC match at WrestleMania 28. I think I’ll be posting it in the next day or so...
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I’m alright with Buddy Murphy fighting Aleister... that seems like a good feud that can produce some great matches
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