[Christian Underwood]

 Post RPs here!

First RP Period Deadline:
United States: 11:59pm EST Saturday 09/06/2014
England: 04:59am Sunday 09/10/2014

[Christian Underwood]

 Second RP Period Deadline:
United States: 11:59pm EST Friday 09/12/2014
England: 04:59am Saturday 09/13/2014  

[Kristopher Ryans]

 ===============
Off-Camera

I woke up on the beach. I don’t exactly remember how or when I got there, but the air was cool and the clouds were low. I could feel the sand caked to my back, chunked together with sweat. It was midsummer, but the lack of people on the beach suggested that it was a weekday. I couldn’t keep track anymore. Everything and everyone seemed to run together like mud, filling up each crevice of my brain. I started to sit up but the pain in my side made it difficult to move. I laid back down. “Just five more minutes,” I whisper to myself.

The sky was a bright blue, brighter than most days. The clouds were puffy and soft in the sky. It was beautiful against the blue buildings in the skyline. I tried to orient myself to my location. Where was I exactly on the beach? And, how far was I from my apartment. Exactly how long had I been here.

I knew why I was out. I remember feeling smothered by my surrounding, completely drowning in the air that was around me. I need some wide-open spaces to forget. Oblivion. For some reason, I couldn’t clear my mind; it was always racing. The engine that always could. I needed a break from myself, but I could only find it when I slept. I must have wandered to the beach, stared out into the green sea and fallen asleep. It had been 12 days, but it only felt like 12 minutes. I knew if I went home it would all be over, but I desperately needed a shower. I should eat, even if I can’t keep it down.

While rolling onto my side, I realize just how vast the ocean was. I try to take it all in, absorb it into my mind, to make the rest of the stuff go away. To fill the void and take over my mind in its entirety. I sat up slowly, cradling my knees in my arms and resting my head on them.  My back was burning under the rays of the sun, and I could feel the sand falling off piece-by-piece causing me to itch. I didn’t have the energy to scratch it. The wind blew against the small of my back, which was exposed by the ending of my shirt. I stood, struggling to compose my stance. Paying special attention to where my feet landed, I walked along the edge of the ocean towards the city.

The windows of the skyscrapers were covered in reflective glass, taunting me as I walked past. It was as if they wanted me to realize how low I had fallen, how bad it had gotten. I was tall, but not enough to make me stand out. My once tight figure appeared frail. I was underweight but not by choice. My hair, disheveled and shaggy stuck out all around my head. It was clearly dirty before my nap on the beach. As I walked, grains of sand fell out of the dreads. The circles under my eyes made me look much older than a 24-year-old should.

I was only a few blocks from my apartment now, but it felt like I had miles to go. The nausea had come back, causing me to walk in a hunch. The sweat was pouring from my pores, running down my lower back and calves. I made it to my door and slowly turned the key. Reese had been here. I could tell because the dishes were done. She left a note on the counter that read, “you are better than this.”

“If my brain would stop churning for just one second, you might be right,” I answered even though she wasn’t there to continue the conversations. She spent many nights over here over past two weeks, holding my hair while I vomited, wiping the sweat from my face while I slept. I couldn’t ask for a better friend. She could. And she should. She deserves so much more than to care for me.  

Under her note sat my cell phone. I hadn’t realized until this moment that I had left it behind. I clicked the screen to wake it. 37 missed call, 36 from Reese, only one from Jason. The first call came in at 11:00pm the night before. Is it possible that I spent almost 10 hours on that beach, sleeping? I know she is worried, but I don’t have the courage. I’ve let her down again, and this time I actually can’t remember what I was doing. I rummage through the cabinet for food. I settle on a pack of ramen. As they boil, I sit in the bar stool and rest my head on the counter, drifting off.

I wake up minutes later to the mooing vibrations of my cell phone. Reese, again. I silence the buzzing and attend to the noodles that are dangerously low on water. Mixing in the flavor pack, I settle on the couch. I look around, realizing that this was the only room she hadn’t cleaned. It was my mess to get rid of; I knew that. She couldn’t bring herself to clean it, neither could I. I pick up my food and move to the bedroom. It smelled of dirty laundry and vomit, but I couldn’t stand to be in the same room with my disease. The first few bites struggled down my throat, but I forced myself to eat the majority of the bowl before I set it down to rot until the next time Reese came over. I should call her back, but I lay down to sleep, instead.

I stared at the ceiling for a long time, my mind racing. It played over and over again the last few years of my life: countless jobs, failed relationships, lost friendship, but always Reese. She was the shining star in my life. She kept me grounded, even as I floated through the galaxy with her. I imagined the way life would be if I could get my shit together. Her, sitting next to me, always smiling. I imagined the life we could have together if I were someone else. Someone better. The sweat came back, and I leaned off the side of the mattress to puke in a small trashcan. I take a handful of pills on the nightstand, hoping they’ll calm the nausea just long enough for me to sleep.

“Goddammit, Kristopher. Where were you?” I wake up to Reese hastily throwing things into a garbage bag. She’s already disposed of my vomit and the half-eaten ramen. She used my full name. It was the only clear indication she was angry. Her words came out in the sweetest voice.

“I’m… sorry,” I mutter. I meant it, but it had been said so many times that I knew she wouldn’t believe it was genuine. She looked tired. There was no doubt that she spent the last two days worrying about me. I don’t know how long I had been asleep, but I assumed it was well into the evening. She probably came by on her way home from work. She was still dressed in her office attire. God, did she look beautiful. Her hair hung softly halfway down her back, swishing slowing as she chucked things around the room.

“You don’t have to do this,” I say. “It’s my mess.”

“I know,” she snapped, “but clearly you can’t manage on your own.”

 Couldn’t she see that I was trying? Did she even stop to think how hard this was for me? I stopped my train of thought again. I was being selfish. I never stopped to stop to think of her and her feelings. All she ever did was think about me.

 “You still haven’t answered my question. Where were you?”

 “You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you?”

 “Yeah? Try me?”

 “I needed to get away, you know. Escape for a while.”

 “And that’s exactly what got you in this situation to begin with. You needed an escape.”

 “I know. I’m sorry. I just couldn’t do it here. It’s all around… the reminders of it all. I went for a walk and woke up on the beach this morning. I should have called you back, but I couldn’t. I’m sorry.”

 “Stop apologizing if nothing changes.”

 That struck a chord with me. Hadn’t it changed? Isn’t it changing? It’s been 12 days, even if it feels like a lifetime. There was a difference. I felt different. She stormed out of the room when I didn’t respond, taking the bag with her. I sat on the bed, dazed. I didn’t know what else I could do if this wasn’t enough. I heard the clinking of glass in the kitchen and then the door slam. She was gone again.

 I yearned for her. I could feel her presence shrinking as she walked away from my apartment. I knew she was crying. Again. And there was nothing I could do about it. I thought about chasing after her, but I knew it wouldn’t make a difference, not now anyway. I had waited just a little too long for it to matter. Staring blankly at the wall, I made a choice: enough was enough. Disrobing, I walked into the bathroom. Cleaning myself physically was the first step, I thought.

 I showered for longer than usual, paying special attention to all the places you never think to wash. In a sense, I was just delaying the inevitable. One more minute in here was another minute spent in this life, clinging to what I knew for so long. I waited until the water turned to cold and then to unbearable. Keeping in form, I dried just as slowly. I threw on a pair of boxes and walked into the living room. The mess was all around. Beer bottles, broken needles, empty baggies flung about in chaos. I started in the corner of the room, picking up the bottles and discarded food. It smelled awful, the odor oozing about the room as I interfered with its resting place. It took about an hour to cut through the mess, but the room was clean except for the coffee table, which held the still-usable supplies. A full bag of caps, with that sweet white powder inside, sitting untouched on top of an empty Maxwell container.

 I shook open a brand new garbage bag and hung it clumsily off the end of the table. Using my arm like a well-oiled machine, I slid it down the table, ridding myself of all of the shit in one, clean motion. Panic set in. There lay the spoon, right on top of the syringes and papers, shiny yet dull in the light of the room. It was my masterpiece; I had spent hours perfecting the shape of the spoon to sit perfectly against my fingers by rolling the handle around into the impeccable circle, which would nuzzle itself around my middle finger. It was almost as if it had been its purpose all along. Slowly, I reached in. “I can just touch it,” I whisper. “One last time.” I had a sort of love for this spoon. It might have more control of me than the heroin itself.


It was then that Ava sat down on the bed, waking me, for real this time. It was all a dream. It hadn't felt like one. It had smelled and tasted real. The urges were as alive as ever. Then again, could reliving a memory really be called dreaming. It was one of the many times I came up short. One of the many times that I let people down. My feelings for Reese bled through the dream and back to the front of my mind. It made me look at Ava differently. I looked away from her and wiped the sleep from my eyes before she could notice that hint of regret in them. She wasn't Reese. I had bent that relationship just like that old spoon. Difference was, one of them I bent so far it broke. Here Ava was, picking up the pieces of my life like Reese had picked up the mess of my apartment more than a year ago now. I didn't deserve her. I didn't deserve either of them.

I push myself up off of the bed and kiss her cheek.

It was all a dream..... just a memory now. I am NOT that person anymore.

With a laugh that receives a queer look from Ava, I try to convince myself that it is true.



===============
On-Camera

The scene opens in a bar. The first named contender to the Roulette Championship is leaning back against a pool table. There is a man that is almost disgustingly fat standing on the other side of the table, to Kris’ left. He wobbles on his feet, clearing intoxicated. Halich looks sober as can be though. He tosses the pool cue back and forth in his hand, finally finding his words as the camera draws close.

Kris
A humble person can admit when they were wrong. Now, I am far from humble, but I was indeed wrong… about how my first match would turn out here. See, I lost. I came in cocky and I got beat. But then something magical happened.... I got into this Roulette Championship match.

A smile crosses his face, and he shrugs his shoulders, not too worried about the fact that the very man who beat him in his debut happened to be joining him in this match. He looks back over at the man who he is apparently playing against, and shakes his head, turning back to the camera.

Kris
Now that guy over there is clearly wasted. Normally I would be standing here attempting to look as though myself. Its called hustling. I figured I could knock off the ruse. A joke like that isn’t funny when you're attempting ut for the third time in a night. Besides, I am tired to moving to knew back. The problem with hustling people is that, eventually, they pick up on your game and then you lose the advantage. Luckily for me, that didn't happen in my qualifying match. I stayed quiet the whole match. I didn’t dirty my hands  being fancy. I was content to slide my way to the end before using any real talent at all. Turns out, I played my cards right.I got the first slot into this match. Technically I was I'm even before the champion.

He turns away to the camera, and goes to the end of the table. He takes the cue ball in his hand, and slides it to the edge of the table. At the other end is three balls, formed up in a triangle. Kris levels the stick in his hand, takes a few practice thrusts, and then blasts the ball to the other side of the table. It makes contact with the head of the triangle and shoots the other two balls back at an angle, sinking both of them in the end corner pockets of the table. He nods, and waits for the cue to stop almost back in the same space he shot from the first time.

Kris
So, in essence, I lost a battle and then I won another. However, a career is war.

He turns back to the table, aiming his shot and striking the cue dead center. He catches the only remaining ball center left and sends it into the right corner pocket on the end of the table. Kris looks up at the fat body in front of him with a smile.

Kris
That’s two shots, or you can just give me my $20 and we can call it a game.

The man looks at the table in disbelief, and throws the bill on the table before walking off, probably to the bar. Kris picks up the bill and leans back against the table, almost in the same space he started his rant.

Kris
Now, personally, I don't mind any of the men in this match. Asar and I have exchanged blows. Equinox and I have exchanged tweets. Ryan Kidd? We haven't shared so much as an awkward glance at each other. This isn't your typical superstar match, is it? Normally you get a couple of guys with a score to settle coming up at each other full of aggression. You see matches that are personal, like this business with the Mean Girls. This is missing that element. There is no heat here.

He turns and drops his pool cue on the table and starts to step away. The camera follows as he heads to the bar.

Kris
.... However,  there is a title. A shiny one. One rooted in odds and fun instead of blood, sweat and tears. The Roulette title isn't something that you see people claim as their crowning achievement. This isn't the end game for people in this company. SCW should take that as an insult. See, this belt has a smile practically pasted to my face. This is my kind of gig. This is the kind of thing that I live for. Its not the same generic belt you will find in any company. Its different. Its unique.

He finally gets to the bar, and drops the twenty on the counter. The bartender comes over to him, looks at the bill, and then back up at Kris. The SCW newcomer shakes his head and reaches down into his pocket, unfolding some of the stack and throwing a handful more on the counter. it was the same routine fans of his will have seen time and time again by now. It was a bribe to not throw him out for hustling the clientele. The man behind the counter reaches down and grabs a glass, throwing some ice cubes in it and then filling it from the signature “Brandon’s Gin” bottle that Kris was carrying around even before his contract with SCW.

Kris
Looks can be deceiving. This match might look like a flop from the outside. It might look like something something hasn't been built up by its competitors nearly enough. It might look like the spot in the card where you might change your watch or refill a drink....

He kills his drink and refills it with a refreshing sigh.

Kris
All I am saying is that if that is what you people choose to do, you'll be missing out. I don't disappoint. I don't let people down in the ring. Most importantly, I see something that I want. I see something that would look damn good around my waist. I'm going to be getting that. I'm going to be taking that home..

He kills his second glass and drops it hard to the table. Without a not word he scoops up his bottle and heads towards the door as the scene cuts to black.

[Equinox]

 :: Scene: Dreams can turn on you::


The sounds of someone tossing and turning in bed is heard. There lays a man named Michael. He seems to be having some form of nightmare. He tosses and turns in bed. In front of the bed is a desk with a lamp on it. There is the demon like mask. Its eyes seem to glow in the darkness. The glow seems to get brighter, as the man tosses more. Suddenly the man sits up in bed. The glow from the mask fades. The man seems to be sweating. His eyes scan the room. When he comes to the mask, he stops and stares at it. It is like the mask had cast a spell on him. He slowly crawls to the edge of the front of the bed. He stays there mystified at the sight of the mask. He slowly reaches forward. The desk is out of reach. He leans trying to reach the desk. Suddenly he loses his balance and falls with a thunderous clap to the floor. He lays there for a couple of seconds. His eyes look up to the roof of the room. They seem to glass over, as he lays there motionless. The mask seems to glow again. The man's eyes close slowly, as he lays there on the floor. The night moves on. Soon the sun light breaks through the window. It creeps across the floor. Making its way slowly to the man’s bed. He is laying there still motionless. Suddenly his eyes open. His icy blue eyes stare up at the roof. He sits up and looks around. He looks at the desk and looks for the mask. It had vanished. He holds his head in pain, as he starts to remember what has happened. Pain starts to go across his face. He gets up quickly to his feet. He quickly grabs the lamp on the desk and throws it to the other side of the room. He looks panicked. It was like he could not remember the night before. He slowly walks around his room looking for clue to what happened. He stops and sits on the edge of the bed. He looks at his hands. There seems to be nothing wrong. His voice can be heard softly.

MICHAEL: What happened to me last night? I cannot remember what happened. I wonder if I did what I think I did. Old habits die very hard.

He stands up in the sunlight to reveal that he is only wearing a pair of black boxer-briefs. He walks over to the closet and grabs a pair of pants. He quickly slips them on. He buttons them up and zips the fly. He slowly walks to the bedroom door. He notices the door is half opened. Cautiously, He slowly pushes it open. When he walks out of the room. He looks around carefully. It is like someone had trashed his place. He slowly walks around looking at the destruction. He shakes his head not knowing what happened. He walks towards a set of stairs. He looks down them and slowly makes his way down the stairs. He stops at the landing and looks at the floor. There is a red streak going across the floor. He raises an eye brow in confusion. He bends down and looks at the red streak. He quickly stands back up and follows the red streak. It leads him to the front door. He stops noticing that his shoes were right there. He raises a brow really not sure what to make of this. He slips the shoes on and slowly opens the door up. He walks out on to the porch. The streak had vanished.

MICHAEL: What is going on here? I don't get what happened here. I am out in the middle of nowhere and strange things are happening. It is like someone is playing tricks with me.

He growls under his breath not liking this joke or trick. As soon as those words are said, The door starts to creak behind him. He spins around quickly to see a black figure with a devilish grin shutting the door. His eyes being to widen at the sight. He doesn’t know what is going on. He quickly grabs the door knob. He tries to turn it and it won’t turn. It is locked. He backs away from the door not knowing what was going on. He slowly walks off the porch and walks around the house. He walks to the back of the house and tries the back door. The door unlatches. He smiles, as he walks back into the house. The first thing he grabs is a knife. He had no clue what he had seen and he was not taking any risk. He slowly walks around looking for the thing he seen. He cannot find it. He hears a stumbling sound up stairs. He looks up and slowly walks to the stairs leading to the second floor. He slowly makes his way up the stairs, trying not to make a noise. He stops at the top of the stairs and hears the sounds coming from his bedroom. He slowly makes his way to the room. He takes a soft breath and pushes the door open quickly. To his shock there stands a dark figure. It is wearing the demon like mask. He holds the knife ready to attack.

MICHAEL: Who in the hell are you? What are you doing in my house!?

Mask: So many questions to be asked. So little time to answer everything. You don't realize it yet. This is your future and I will take over. That is what you have to look forward to.

MICHAEL: Don't beat around the bush. Who in the hell are you!?

Mask: I am the demon. I am the one who takes control. I am your most inner desire. I am your primal nature! In it all I am you! See if you cannot see it now. You will notice it soon. See you need me, as much as I need you. You are faced with a problem. You know what it is? See you’ve had that little mask of yours give you confidence, but not power…

MICHAEL: There is only one issue I have, I need to start training for my match against Four Different Tough Competitors. That is my only problem! You are taking up my time!

Mask: Really am I taking up your time? Tell me what time is it?

The man looks up to the clock on the wall. The hands on the clock are free spinning. He tilts his head in confusion. This was not of the norm. He did not know what to make of what he was seeing. His eyes shift back to the figure. It was still turns so it could not be seen fully. The figure stands there is a mocking tone. The man holds the knife steady ready to strike. The figure seems to chuckle softly. The man looks down at the knife. It was not there. He was even more confused. He looks at the figure with a questioning look.

Mask: You still don't get it do you? You have no control here. This is not your wonderland. See you need me! You need me to finally complete your journey, your goal! So what drives you to do what you have done so far?

MICHAEL: I am who I am. I will always risk my body to prove my point. It does not matter what anyone says. See I have pushed the bar to heights unseen before. Now people walk around bad mouthing me. See I have no reason to let people like Ryan Kidd, Gabriel Asar, Hell even Erik bring me down. I will make the Roulette Division Better and better no worry about that.

Mask: You have done a very good job of that, being SCW Roulette Champion. But as I said you need me. You need this urge for destruction to win. See when you lost so long ago to Sean Jackson, it wasn’t just H.S.I that did you in. It was your own mistake, you didn’t have the necessary skills to win at the time. Now you go into this title defense to face Ryan Kidd and Gabriel Asar and Kris Halc. You’re not ready at least unless you trust me.

MICHAEL: That is where you are wrong! I lost thanks to H.S.I to Jackson sometime ago and I am just waiting for the chance to beat him or for that matter the right time too. But then you look at what I have accomplished…and I say this with pride I have beat men like Andrew Garcia a former SCW Roulette Champion. I have beat Ryan Kidd before who the current UWL Junior Heavyweight Champion. I have beat even Horace Jackson and I have even beat Steve Ramone a GWA legend.

Mask: That is where you’re getting over confident. They are not someone you can overlook..Gabriel let’s not forget he beat you in World Elite Wrestling. Kris Halc the so called wild card in this match you have no history with. But Ryan it’s almost as if you careers are intertwined. He and you both wrestle for here and several companies. He is champion elsewhere and you are champion here. You have represented SCW many times over and it seems they think you’ll lose at Violent Conduct II.

The man shakes his head at this figure. He still could not figure out what this dark figure was doing there. Was this the real world? Or where was he? He stands there wondering what he could say or do to get rid of this demonic creature. He was not going to stand there and listen to this beast bad mouth him and his thoughts. He slowly makes his way to the masked figure. He stops taking a deep breath. He knew what he needed to do.

MICHAEL: See I don't care what you say! Neither of these fools cannot stop me! I will do to them what I have done against many people who have stepped in the ring with me! I will defend this title with pride! If I lose then so be it. I will come out with my head held up high! I am the Mad Hatter! I am going to take the Roulette Division to even greater heights and not even the Board of Directors can stop me.

He reaches out and rips the mask from the dark figure. The beast turns with red glowing eyes. It did not look human. It was very demonic. Everything seemed to come spiraling down around him. He drops to the floor holding the mask. Everything starts to go dark, as the beast look down at the man. Suddenly his eyes fly widen open. He sits up in bed and there sits the demon like mask on the desk. Everything fades on the sight of the demon like mask.
:: Scene: Memories ::


A light flickers on in a room. There sits two people. One is a woman with black and green hair that cascades down her back. The other is a man with a demon like mask on. They are sitting there facing each other. She looks worried about him. She sits there looking him over. He arms are limp with the palms out facing her. His icy blue eyes stare at her through the mask. It was like they were soulless and dead. She did not know what to make of this. These two had hated each other for years, yet fate kept bringing them back together. She smirks a little, until she sees a red liquid flowing down the man’s forearm. She does not know what to think of the sight. This was very unusual. It looked like someone had stabbed him with needles in the front of his elbows. She reaches for one of his arms, but stops. Her voice comes soft and haunting.

Alice: What did they do you? Did they push you this far? I cannot understand why people would push someone this far. You did it all and this is the pay you get. You are forced to destroy yourself over and over again. It makes me hurt on the inside to see you like this.

It had brought some bad memories back to her. This was the man she once loved with all her heart. He was suffering now. She did not want this for him. She knew if he pushed himself any further, his body would give out. The years of abuse and torment was far too great for anyone's body. She slowly grabs his one arm and starts to bandage it up. She stops and attends to the other arm. She knew more about him then anyone. She was the cog that made him tick at one point. If she had to pull him out of the downward spiral she would. Even the most bitter of enemies would help each other with a common enemy. They did have a common enemy.

Alice: I hope you stop before, the darker part of your mind fully destroys you. I don't care what is promised to you! I know it is not worth your sanity. Not even the Red Queen wants this. See you are the only one holding Wonderland together! We need you! The world needs you! So please stop this destruction of yourself!

As she says those words, he grabs her arm. His eyes seem to come to life. The demon like mask stares a whole into her soul. It was a haunting sight. He sits there looking at her. His eyes show rage. He did not know why she was there. He thought they hated each other. He could not understand why she was showing him compassion. He slowly begins to speak with a creepy tone.

MICHAEL: Why does the Voodoo Queen care for one she hates so much? See you have hated me for so long after what happened. It does bother me why you care so much on what happens to me. I thought you would love to see me get destroyed? Or do you want it to be at your own hands?

Alice: I know you find it hard to trust me Michael. See in the end we are destined to end up helping each other. It does not matter really. But fear not. I plan to reveal everything sooner, but tonight you must heal so you can be ready for your four way match up.

MICHAEL: You are wrong. Pain is what drives me on. I am a demon that no one can stop. I am not the Hatter you once knew. See I have changed over the years. I became bitter. See this will help me in the end to cast out the meek.

Alice: The Devil's Rejects we are still. We go around trying to show the world how corrupt it is. Yet, they already know. See it is just us trying to do something we already have done. So we should start a new chapter. Lets not dwell in the past.

He stands up from her quickly. He walks away from her. He slowly reaches for the mask. He stops and turns to her again. She looks at him confused. He slowly walks towards her. A growl is heard from him. A mist starts to form from the mask of the mouth. She stands up and backs up. He slowly continues towards her. She stops and quickly reaches into her one boot. She pulls out a knife. She looks up and he grabs her hand holding the knife. She drops it. It makes a odd sound when it hits the floor. He looks into her eyes, as the mist starts to bellow out of the mask.

MICHAEL: The past is nothing to what I have decided for the future! See it is no more about how corrupt the world is! I am here to destroy the false reality people live in! I am here to rid the evil of this world and it started with H.S.I. Now it leads to Sunday. Sunday where Violence and Cruel Punishment are at home. Ryan, He might have a title, but what did he do to gain it, he beat me? Gabriel Asar let’s look back at his only win in some other company….He lost it in his first defense to Trish Newborne. He beat me. Kris we have never face one another and tonight we all get to be a part of history. Tonight Violence is at hand.

Alice: Michael, I have no clue what you are so intoned about. But yes you are right Violence will be at hand on Sunday.

MICHAEL: That is easy! Violent is but a word. Blood is but a sunder. I am coming for you Asar. I am coming for you Halc and I am coming for you Kidd. So prepare yourself. Prepare for a diabolical man hell bent on retaining this shiny belt.

Alice: Let me help you! Let me keep you safe and sane.

MICHAEL: What is your best motive to Alice? A knife? A poisoned red apple!? See it does not matter what you do. You will always hinder me! Trying to always keep me safe! That is why you use the name Alice! So Alice what is you true plan? To take everything I have away from me again. Distract me, so that my pain never is unleashed upon others?

He releases a growl. With his other hand, he rips the mask from his face. He has a sinister smile painted across his face. The mist stops coming from the mouth of the demon like mask. He pushes her arm back. He reaches down and grabs the knife. He slowly brings it up to her face. She looks panicked. He spins around and walks to a wall. He places the mask up and drives the knife into the wall. He pins the demon like mask to the wall. He waits for her to respond to his questions.

Alice: Michael, I am not here to hinder you. I want to help you with your goals. See these four will start your plan, but I am here to make sure everything goes to plan. If they are just a pawn, you can take them down easily. Only thing is “he” is not a pawn.

MICHAEL: No, He is a rook on this chess board. That is what makes him so dangerous. See the thing I know is he does not know what I can do to a human body. I will destroy each limb, working my way to his head! See I know I can destroy him easily!

Alice: Then do it! Make Them all regret ever getting signed to this match. I know you, Michael. I know what you can do. This is the present and you are striving towards the future. You will defeat these so called villans and get what you want. The higher ups will not be able to look away! So that is what you will have to do.

MICHAEL: Then it is set! I will destroy my three opponents this Sunday! I will take the SCW Roulette title, as far as it can go! The world needs a true hero that can also be a willan! That villain shall be me! See in the end I will send them all on the Wayward Dream!

He begins to cackle with laughter. Soon the laughter becomes hysterical. He had finally lost his mind. The woman walks up to him with a sinister smile. She holds him close and soon places one finger over his lips. He quiets down. She softly starts to sing with a haunting tone.

Alice: Why don't you go ask Alice a question, Boys! Why the Hatter is Mad!? Because come this Sunday you will all learn to smile!

She begins to laugh hysterically. They both have a sinister smile painted a cross there faces. Suddenly they start to kiss. The mouth of the mask starts to have mist form from it again. It starts to engulf the area. Everything starts to vanish in this mist. The two vanish with a haunting cackle trailing behind them, as everything goes in the darkness of the abyss.