Not just strength (offcam)

In the rundown part of the city there is an old warehouse, one that hadn’t seen use or care in decades. Until now. Until a being that is beyond a man in many ways decided to take refuge there and to move forward with a new plan, one that would change the fate of all those who were worthy. The derelict structure had been painstakingly restored and refurbished on the inside, its rotten walls and rusting pillars repaired and replaced to make it livable and inhabitable. And there, in that oasis in the concrete wasteland Supreme Machine was growing his cult. The surrounding neighborhoods were prime recruiting fields. Desperate and destitute people looking for some purpose, ANY purpose, the slightest chance to be part of something more, the slightest chance for something better were flocking to his doorstep. Yet, he did not welcome everyone. No. Only those who had what it took to adhere to his teachings, his brutal and straightforward way of life. Kill or be Killed. Adapt or Die. Only the strong survive. It was a simple guideline, yet one that required so much… yet it didn’t stop everyone from trying. And that is what he was doing today. Observing the recent round of hopefuls go through the trials he had created. Trials that would expose their weaknesses and ascertain their strengths. Trials that once undertaken would determine their fate. People of all kinds showed up for them. Gangbangers who smelled which way the wind was blowing. Beggars and hookers looking for some other way to live. Even drunkards and drug addicts tried their luck. SuMa allowed everyone to try. Yet he only gave one chance. You fail once and you are forever barred.

SuMa was observing the final trial for those who had made it this far. A Massive melee where he tested the will to survive, the strength to fight and any other qualities that would allow his disciples to succeed in the struggle. He knew strength wasn’t everything. That physical might only got you to a certain distance. So he was looking for people with more. Who showed guile. Intellect. Creativity. Opportunism. And he saw one. A slim, wiry man. Not a fighter but clearly used to defending himself. He wasn’t diving head first into the fray, ducking and weaving amongst the fighting group, staying on the sidelines and looking for a chance to strike at an exposed target. Picking his spots, never letting himself be caught in a disadvantage. SuMa watched him intently. It wasn’t just his actions that drew his eye. But his body language. It spoke of confidence, spoke of ease. He wasn’t intimidated or worried. Almost dancing in between the charging bulls.

Finally he had seen enough and he walked into the melee. He didn’t say anything, his sheer presence caused the fighting to stop, especially after one unfortunate man had been pushed against him and received an offhanded swat that sent him to the ground for his troubles. All the dozen participants of the fight stood in place and looked at the 6’9’’ masked monster with looks that were a mixture of awe, respect, fear and hope. “Line up.” He said, without the need to raise his voice. The effect was instant and all men did as they were told, lining up in front of him like army recruits. SuMa walked to the end of the line and began moving down it. He stopped in front of a man, nodding at him. “You.” Without elaborating he continued, stopping in front of two other men, doing the same before walking back to where he started and looking at all of them. “Go with him.” He pointed at one of his second in commands, marked by two scars in his face, named Jake. The selected men went to him and left the room while SuMa continued looking at the men still standing in a line. “Pathetic.” That was all he needed to say, the heads of the men still standing on the line hung and their shoulders fell as they began to file out of the room. SuMa watched the line and got the attention of his other second in command, the two-scarred woman by the name of Belinda. SuMa pointed at the wiry man at the end of the line. “Bring him to us.” He stated without any further explanation. None was needed though as Belinda saw the man being pointed and nodded as SuMa left the room, heading for his private chamber at the end of the warehouse, on its second floor.

After a few minutes a knock could be heard on the door to the dim room. SuMa acknowledged it with a grunt, not even bothering to face the door as he gazed out of the small window carved into the bare concrete wall. The door opened with a creak and in walked Belinda with the wiry man cautiously following her, a glimpse of two large men in hooded jackets could be seen before the door closed behind the pair. Belinda waited for the masked man to speak, yet he didn’t. As the silence continued and became awkward, almost oppressive, especially to the wiry man fidgeting behind the hooded woman, she finally spoke up. “Master” she started cautiously. Even if she was his favorite disciple, one of the two marked with a second scar, she was keenly aware of his unpredictability. “I have fulfilled your order, he is here.” she finally finished the sentence.

Nothing happened for what seemed like hours. The wiry man was already looking at his options to flee as the whole situation filled him with dread. But just as Belinda was about to speak up for a second time, SuMa finally reacted, pointing at the door. She blinked, but realized what he meant without further prompting, so she left the room and closed the door behind her, giving an indecipherable look to the wiry man as she passed. After the door was closed, silence continued to hang in the room, the wiry man considering whether it was worth speaking up himself. Until the low, gravelly voice of SuMa finally froze him in place. “Name.” It was a simple question, yet the wiry man couldn’t help but to dig for a deeper meaning. His failure to respond seemed to irritate the masked man as SuMa turned to face him, a small growl emanating from his chest as he repeated. “Name.”

Blinking  and swallowing hard, the wiry man considered for a fleeting moment if he had completely fucked up. So he rushed to respond. “Rolston, Michael Rolston.”  His voice was shaky, even if he was doing his best to steady it. He felt like he was in the same room with a hungry lion. Somehow instinctively he knew must not show any signs of weakness… even if the whole situation made him regret ever coming there.

As a response to him naming himself, SuMa pulled off his mask to reveal the mutilated face that hid beneath. The nose broken a dozen times over, the cheeks marred by jagged scars. Mangled lips twisted in a menacing snarl. “We watched you.” He spoke in a low growl. “And we have a question… Michael.” He paused, cocking his head to the left, one of his many physical ticks. But his stare, intense like the crushing draw of a black hole, never left Rolstons eyes, locking him in place. “Do you have what it takes? The potential to be one of us…” The question was left hanging in midair, leaving the tension palpable.

Rolston had never felt so uncomfortable in his life. The cold gaze of those black, coal-like eyes triggering his fight or flight instinct something fierce, yet he knew he could not win nor could he flee. All he could do was swallow and try to formulate a response. “I…” It was extremely uncommon for Michael Rolston to stutter or be left wordless. He had survived his whole 25 years of life on the street off the back of his ability to smoothtalk his way out of trouble, his quick reflexes that allowed him to evade any unfavorable encounters and his brainpower that had always let him outsmart anyone he came across, be it swindling for profit or finding an out. Yet now,none of those helped. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t know I was good enough.” he finally got out, finding some of that silver tongue that had saved his ass so many times. “I’m not a musclehead. I am not a gangbanger. Yet those streets? They haven’t broken me. You must see it too…” He paused, seeing the slightest tightening around the corners of SuMa’s eyes. “... Master” he bowed his head, partly to show respect but mostly to escape that stare.

It didn’t help. SuMa reached for his jaw and forcibly janked his head up so their eyes met again. Sweat began to form on Rolstons brow as he felt his grip, strong, but not strong enough to break anything… yet he could feel that the hand possessed the strength to rip his jaw clean off in one go if the monster so chose. He tried to read SuMa’s expression, but it was completely unreadable. Even more of a mask than the leather one that currently hung on the monsters other hand. Finally SuMa let go of him and nodded. “We do see it.” he said, again not wasting any more words than necessary. “You have more than strength. You have potential.” SuMa straightened up and walked over back to the window, turning his back to Rolston. “You pass.”


Rolston stood there dumbfounded. All the tension began to slowly seep out of his muscles as the monsters words got processed. He had been confident that he had what it took, but when he had been brought to this room, alone with him, all the stories he had heard began to roll in his head. Of how nobody ever left this room. Those who entered were never seen again. And so on and so forth, all the way to the most ridiculous rumors of SuMa actually eating his victims, that he killed for fun. The masked monster was brutal, no doubt, intimidating, definitely… but Rolston began understood there was a method to his madness. So when he confirmed that Rolston had passed… it both seemed unreal, and perfectly logical. Rolston pondered whether he should just leave, or do something. Or just wait. Ultimately he decided to try his luck. “Do you need anything else… master? Should I pledge my loyalty? Give an oath?” His voice had an unsure edge to it, but at the same time, honeyed words like that were his specialty.

The monster that the violent gangs that used to control this area of the city spoke of hushed tones let out a surprisingly warm chuckle. “An oath? Why not…” He turned to face Rolston, straightening to his full height, that was often concealed by his slight hunch, something any tall person immediately recognized.

Rolston felt a bit of relief as he seemed to be getting into the monster's good graces right from the get go as he took a step closer, preparing to drop to a knee in a show of submission, but as soon as he was within the monsters reach, he swung his hand at Rolson, his fingers brushing just past his face with incredible, almost unobservable speed. And the first thing that Rolston realized about the strike was a burst of pain on his cheek and the wetness of blood dripping down his jawline. He recoiled away from the masked monster, his hand shooting up to his face, a gasp escaping his lips as he felt the thick plasma seeping from a wound.

Confused, Rolston looked up at SuMa, who had a satisfied grin on his mangled lips and blinked. SuMa could see the question on his face and slowly raised his hand,  showing a razorblade nestled between his fingertips. Stains of old blood had caked on the blade, but it was clearly still sharp as ever. “That is your oath…” He pointed at the cut that had been sliced into Rolston’s cheek. “Now everyone knows you are one of us. Forever.” He raised the razorblade to his own face, gently tracing the scars from the glasgow grin cut into him all those years ago, hammering home the symbolism of the cut. “And all that follow us know that the only option is absolute loyalty… Or a fate worse than death.” He turned around, pointing at the door. “You may leave. Find Belinda. Or Jake. They will get you up to speed.” His words had an air of finality about them.

Knowing that was his cue to leave, Rolston opened the door and stepped out, being met by a dozen or so fellow disciples who were chanting “one of us” at him, while Jake and Belinda approached him, Jake handing him one of the hooded jackets that the rest of them were wearing while Belinda was carefully wiping away blood and dirt from the cut on his cheek in an almost motherly manner. And for some reason Michael Rolston felt like he was home.

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Face to Face (offcam)

When the card for Climax Control was released, SuMa felt a rare tinge of anticipation. He was getting Mac Bane. The man who disrespected him by casting him out of his little group. A group that was rapidly falling apart. It was a war that had been in the making a lot longer than anyone in SCW really knew, except maybe for a select few. Those who had been around back in October when SuMa and Bane fought in OCW. When SuMa defeated him. A wary respect had formed between the two. And now… after twists and turns, they were to wage war again. After he had finally gotten rid from the surveillance by the Iceman, SuMa had been able to establish his presence. Swell the ranks of his disciples. Make himself untouchable in the streets. Just as he was going to make himself untouchable in SCW. The base of operations he had set up was bustling with activity that was increasing day after day.

But at the same time as outwardly he was safer and more dangerous than ever, his reach expanding beyond his own machinations… He had a problem. A big one. One that he could not make to go away with violence or threats. One that existed within him. Tom. That fateful night when SuMa tried to punish Jennifer for daring to sic the Iceman on him, Tom had wrested control and forced SuMa on the backfoot. And when the time came to wage a war with Mac.. .he might be able to do it again. Because over the decade and a half that SuMa and Tom had existed as two entities in one body… SuMa had figured out a pattern to Tom’s ability to interfere, one that he was certain Tom knew as well. He was able to overpower the will of the monster when Jennifer, their sister, was concerned… or when SuMa was exhausted, both physically and mentally. When the monster was vulnerable.

That was a very likely scenario come Climax Control. Why? Because Mac Bane was no slouch. From the top of his head SuMa could name only two men who had proven to be as tough as Bane. And those were the Raven and The Bogeyman. While Bane hadn’t been on their level on their previous encounter, this time SuMa was certain he would bring the fight to a whole new level. Last time it was just pride on the line. This time… it was the one thing that drove Mac Bane. The SCW World title. So SuMa knew that it would take absolutely everything he had to put down the cowboy. Even in victory, he would have nothing left in the tank. And the last thing he needed was to get Mac broken and beaten at his feet… only for Tom to step in and destroy his moment of triumph out of sheer spite… or out of a misguided need to prevent another encounter with the Raven, who was poised as the next one to challenge the champion.

And it was clear to the masked monster that Tom did not want another war with the Raven, their cousin. Because those wars they’d had in the past had nearly destroyed both of them. To SuMa, Tom’s interference would just make sense. As even if he could assert control… He wouldn’t want to stand dominant in a broken down useless shell. So SuMa needed to make sure Tom stayed away from his fight with Mac. And that is something SuMa could not let pass. So he went to his chamber in the warehouse and sat down on the corner of the dark room, ready to try a trick he learned from his sister who had used it to deal with her manifestation of the family affliction, a way to look inward, to get a face-to-face encounter with his other half. It wasn’t something he really found enjoyable as a thought, but it was something he needed to do. So he focused, calmed down and searched deep within his own consciousness, drifting deeper and deeper into the dark abyss that rested within.

SuMa felt as his surroundings changed, the stale air of his chamber changing to a fresh outside air, well under the stench of filth and death atleast. He opened his eyes and looked around himself, seeing a dark alleyway around him, nestled between two old brick buildings. The only illumination was offered by the yellowish light from a single lightpost standing at the entrance to the alleyway, but for someone used to traversing the dark, it was enough. He scanned his surroundings more carefully and began moving deeper into the alley, rounding a corner and seeing what he was looking for, bathed in dim light from another lightpost. He tensed and a small growl escaped his lips, as even if it was what he was looking for, it still caused a stir in his normally stoic demeanor.

A ghost of his past. Thomas Rivers. The man who 15 years ago succumbed to SuMa’s domination. The mental projection of the once-solitary personality was sitting on a filthy bench, with a giant cast-iron shackle attaching his neck to the brick wall behind him, appearing like he did all those years ago, before his life went to hell. Even the unshakeable masked monster was taken slightly aback by the uncanny resemblance the two held, which while making all kinds of sense… was still uncomfortable. The man that once was, stood at the same size as SuMa, but his skin bore none of the scars that marked all the wars he had gone through. His hair was curly and shiny instead of the dull, greasy matted mane that cascaded down SuMa’s head. His face was handsome, boyish. Untainted by the Glasgow grin. But the most striking difference was the eyes. Even in his captured state, Thomas’ eyes had life in them. A mischievous sparkle and a kind warmth. A stark contrast to the dead, coal-like eyes that those caught in SuMa’s stare saw. Time passed, it felt like an eternity until Thomas raised his head in curiosity and cocked his head to the left, shaking his head. “Well, whaddaya know. You’re the one person I thought I’d never see from this perspective.” He chuckled and stood up, the chain rattling loudly as he glanced at it. “Or at all to be honest.” His eyes met the monsters and the hazel iris’ that stared at him made the monster oddly uncomfortable. “What brings you to my humble abode?” Tom quipped with tired humor. He was very curious about this encounter.

“Business that required us meeting face to face, weakling” SuMa growled at him. The irritation he felt when looking at the manifestation of his past self was getting under his skin something fierce. As he looked at the innocent-looking man, he couldn’t help but to think just how much more he could accomplish if he didn’t have to dedicate so much of his will and his power at every moment to suppressing him. If he didn’t need to deal with the baggage that came from the weakling that stood chained in front of him. The eternal, inner struggle that drained the strength of both. And his irritation was only amplified by the fact that he couldn’t exist without Thomas. That without him, the monster that was Supreme Machine wouldn’t be here today. A mutually parasitic existence that neither could escape. “What happened with our sister must never repeat. NEVER. We are not kidding weakling. We are going to wage war with Bane… And we cannot allow you to distract us.” His voice was low, menacing. But it wavered a bit when he realized that Tom wasn’t showing any signs of intimidation. Just… the acceptance of the inevitable.

The chained man shrugged. “I know. Did you forget what you see, I see. And what you hear, I hear. I’m well aware of what’s coming. And its implications.” Tom was referring to the potential battle with Knox. But he wasn’t provoking SuMa. His whole body language radiated resignation. “I think Mac did the right thing. So I wouldn’tve gone after him. But you… I know you won’t let it rest until one crushed the other. And the last thing I need… is you to start another seemingly eternal war.” He paused and sighed. “And if it comes down to you and Knox… Well what can I say. He has your number. He’ll put you down.” Now he was slightly poking the monster. Not like he could hurt him anymore than he already did. But the slight bit of resistance waned quickly as Tom rattled his chains. “Not like I can do much even if I do break these. Distract you for a moment at best.” There was a silence as Tom weighed his next words ,with SuMa waiting with unflinching patience, refusing to show the emotions swirling inside. “If it makes you feel better, that incident with Jenny… it sapped me too.”

The masked monster studied Tom carefully. Looking for any signs of dishonesty or attempted deception. From experience he knew Tom wasn’t the kind of man to lie to someone's face. Not even when he could grab an advantage from it. But SuMa himself had no problem misleading someone or telling them what they wanted to hear, to reach his goal, to open them up for a fatal blow later. Because evil cannot comprehend good, he had a hard time accepting that Tom wasn’t like that. But he found no signs, not even the slightest. So he had to begrudgingly believe that Tom was being sincere. “That is all we wanted to hear from you.” He muttered as he turned around, now wanting to look at his uncanny doppelganger anymore. The amount of discomfort he was feeling was befuddling him, but he filed it away for later examination. Now he just wanted to get out of this weird mindscape he came into. “Don’t expect to see us again” was what he intended to be his last words as he began to walk away.

He was stopped mid-stride though as he heard Tom shouting for him. “Wait, I got one more thing I want to say” The tone of his voice was almost pleading, and despite his better judgment, SuMa stopped and turned around. He saw Tom studying him, with careful curiosity and even a sense of wonder. “Those people. Your.. .disciples. I never thought I’d say this but… you’re doing a good thing.” The approving warmth in his voice as he said that struck SuMa like a whip. It was so out of place, out of character.

Grinding his teeth, SuMa stared down his literal better half, trying to decipher his intent. “So you approve of us… making more people like us?” He took two long steps and forcefully grabbed Tom’s cheek, for a passing moment amazed that he could actually touch him, considering this was literally all in his head. He forced the chained man still so he could stare right in his eyes, trying to gauge his motivations. “You should hate it. You should be against it. We represent EVERYTHING you despise. And those people? They will be like us…Serve us…” His voice had dropped to a quiet whisper, his enunciation underlining the threat.

Doing his best to shrug despite the iron grip on his jaw and the shackle weighing him down, Tom made no show of the discomfort he was feeling as he responded with a steady voice. “You’re right, I should. But to my own surprise, I don’t.” He tried to smile, an act also impeded by the thumb-and-forefinger clamp on his cheeks. “But… what you are doing is an improvement for them. No matter how sinister your intentions… you are giving them hope for a better tomorrow. And hope my scarred friend… dies last.” He said the last two words while returning the steely gaze, putting a strange emphasis on them. He knew he was playing a dangerous game with the unpredictable monster. But as far as he knew, things really couldn’t get worse.

Cocking his head slowly from side to side, SuMa chewed over Tom’s words, once again looking for a deeper meaning, a hidden motive. But he couldn’t find one, to his own frustration. He slowly relinquished his deathgrip on the chained mans face and stepped back, reluctantly convinced of his sincerity. “Your approval is irrelevant, weakling.” He muttered, downplaying the implications. “But if that means you will not attempt to interfere with our plans… then that is relevant.” He turned around and began to move away again. “Just know… deception carries a heavy price.” SuMa growled over his shoulder just before rounding the corner and disappearing.

As the broad back of the monster vanished from sight, and a moment later the feeling of his presence from the mindscape in full, tom let his head hang, leaning against the brick wall that he was chained to. Keeping his thoughts out of the monster's reach was enough to leave him drained. “I know…” He whispered to himself. “But those who follow you will eventually see your true face… what you really are… and end you.” It was his dim hope, one that he clung to. That was all he had left. The effort of saving Jenny had taken everything he had. To a point that he had nearly vanished, leaving the monster in charge permanently. He knew SuMa thought one couldn’t exist without the other… but Tom knew better. It was one of the many pieces of knowledge about the family affliction he had managed to keep to himself, hide so deep inside that the monster could not uncover it. So as he had nothing left to fight the monster with.. .he had to play nice with him and hope that the disciples he was teaching might makes right, survival of the fittest… would eventually reach a point where the student became the teacher… and ended the monsters existence… and with that, Tom’s own miserable suffering. Because Tom knew Mac Bane couldn’t. Matt Knox couldn’t. And Thomas Rivers couldn’t. So his hope rested on the very men and women who called his dark half master.

And it was better than nothing.

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Great men (oncam)

The view opens on a sunny day on the streets of Zakynthos, Greece, the location for the next SCW Climax Control. Walking down the street, with the local onlookers watching in awe, is the 6’9’’ masked monster known as Supreme Machine, with about a dozen or so of his disciples walking in lockstep behind him. Everyone, the monster included, is wearing a similar hooded jacket that covers their heads and most of their faces, despite the sweltering heat that bathes the Mediterranean resort city. Suddenly SuMa stops, and the whole entourage follows suit. We see SuMa staring at a poster advertising the coming show, especially its main event. With a small chuckle, SuMa speaks up.

“So here we are… the battle that everyone has been waiting for. The SCW World champion… Mac Bane… against the monster he so foolishly cast out of his group.”

The entourage boos, causing SuMa to gesture for them to quiet down, which they do instantaneously. He turns to face the camera that is being carried by one of his disciples and shakes his head, a small smile dancing on the mangled lips barely visible below the leather mask that hides his face..

“It is amusing when you think about it, Bane. You recruited us. You came to us and wanted our help… to be part of your little saviors, with the intent of ruling SCW with an iron fist. Yet… you rule nothing. Sure. You are the champion. Yet you have proven in the past that you can do it without help… But let's look at the rest shall we? Davison… choked before the eyes of the Raven. Failing to retain his title. Strife… fled like the yellow-bellied coward he was before he took a single impactful action. Your wife… Red… Has lost herself completely. Failing to retain HER pride and joy… the Bombshells world title… and now nuzzling to the lusty embrace of the Raven. And even if Goth managed to outwit us… it won’t be enough. Everything you’ve built Bane… is coming crashing down. And on Sunday? We will take the very last piece of the puzzle and tear it from your grasp.”

He points towards a word on the poster he stands next to. “SCW World Heavyweight Championship”, underlining his words. He then gestures at the entourage following him, a twisted sense of accomplishment seeping in his voice.

“You must understand something, Bane. Betraying us is not something we let slide. We do not forget. Nor do we forgive. You made the gravest error in your career by casting us out. But the amusing thing is… your decision to refuse our methods… gave us a reason to find our true purpose. Our true calling. And we found it. While your group, your powerbase has been slowly but surely imploding… ours has grown. Soon we will have more control, more power than you could ever dream of having. And we owe that partly to you. But here is the real problem with you Bane… and the real reason everything you’ve tried to accomplish will come crashing down. See, you have the strength to rule as you wish. But strength isn’t everything. What you lack is the drive. The will. The resolve to do what is necessary to maintain your spot. We went above and beyond to make sure that the Raven stays out of your path. But your morals could not allow it. You were afraid that you would be perceived poorly. That you and your group would be hated for what we did. A true ruler does not pander to the opinion of the unwashed masses. A TRUE ruler asserts his dominance… and crushes those who dare to question him. You lack the stomach to do that. To BE that.”

The entourage reacts with small cheers to his words, and this time SuMa lets them ring out as he approaches the camera, taking a posture that is half-lecturing and half-preaching as he speaks directly to the camera or more specifically to anyone watching with an intense voice that matches the stare he is giving.

“A man of principle… never succeeds. A man of morals… rules only until someone with true power steps forward. History does not remember kind rulers Bane. It remembers successful ones. Ivan the Terrible. Vlad the Impaler. Alexander the Great. Julius Caesar. Ragnar Lothbrok. Charlemagne. Frederick the Great. Napoleon. They are not remembered for their kindness or their upstanding character. They are remembered for being men who were not afraid to go beyond what is considered just. They were not afraid to assert their rule with force and cruelty. Superior intellect combined with superior will… You will never be truly great Bane. And we already know what you will counter our argument with… how the reigns of many of the mentioned ended before their time. Yes… that is true. Because the weak always band together to upset the strong. But… Unlike those weak leaders… history remembers the strong. The names we mentioned? They ring out to this day. The consequences of their actions and their triumphs can be felt on the world even today. Great men cast long shadows Bane. And to become truly great… you must be willing to do WHATEVER is needed. You… will never be truly great.”

SuMa pauses and takes a deep breath, which is dotted with small chuckling. The masked monster seems to be enjoying himself immensely and putting on a show not just for the camera but for the slowly gathering crowd of onlookers who most likely had never seen a scene quite like the one SuMa was putting up.

“And after saying all this Bane… There is one thing we have yet to mention. One thing that truly stands out above all else. The one reason why you recruited us in the first place. We already beat you. You wanted us on your side because you know you cannot defeat us. You know you do not have the capability to put us down. We have your number Bane… and you know it. Yet… your pride forced you to turn on us. Your desperate need to be loved and respected opened you up for the fall that will come in our hands. Pride… comes before the fall Bane. And when people look back at the history of SCW… when they look at this friday and what comes after… all they will remember is the strong vanquishing the weak. The mighty stomping all over the frail. As it should be. We will end your reign. We will end your relevance. We will end the joke that is the Saviors. And most importantly… we will end… YOU.”

The masked monster stomps the ground with all his might to put emphasis on his point, the sudden violent action startling the onlookers while the entourage seemed completely unbothered. When SuMa speaks following that show of force, his voice can only be described as mocking.

“Yes. you will brag. You will boast. You will huff and puff like you are the big bad wolf. You will posture. You will put up a front of determination. Yet deep under that mask of confidence Bane… you are scared. Scared because we have the power to expose you to the world. Expose you as the fraud you are. As the weak, pathetic child who years for recognition and for respect. A child who cannot deal with the consequences of his actions. Climax Control 327 is where it all ends. For good.”

He walks into his entourage, being surrounded by his disciples on all sides as he throws his hands into crucifix pose, the entire entourage mimicking the action.

“We are the reaper Mac Bane. And your name is up.”

And with that, the view fades to black.

Crossing a line (offcam)

It was all falling apart infront of his eyes. The monster Supreme Machine was watching his carefully laid plans disintegrate one by one. Even if he didn’t take into account events that happened in other promotions, his course in SCW was getting waylaid. The defeat to Fenris left his ego wounded. Getting eliminated by Goth in the Blast from the Past tournament left him questioning his drive… and the betrayal by Bane left him seething. And it all could be traced to a single event that didn’t even happen in the ring. Something he had failed to predict. Something he had been unable to predict.

The confrontation with the Iceman. Getting saddled with a watcher who wouldn’t hesitate to take him out from a far. It burned at him. Knowing that his every step was being watched, his every act measured. But most of all… The burning ember of anger directed towards the one person SuMa thought he could rely on… the one person he thought wouldn’t have the guts to stand up against him. His sister, Jennifer Rivers. She had sicced the Iceman on him. SHE had tried to put a leash on him. And that could not be allowed to stand. She had to pay. She had become a hindrance… and had to be removed.

But within the monster a battle was brewing. Through their decade and a half of co-existence, Tom had held onto one source of strength to resist the monster. One thing he could not let the monster do. Harming Jenny was something Tom could not allow. Whenever his sister was concerned, Tom had been able to push against the monster's dominance, being able to momentarily assert control and protect her. She was the last vestige of the life that existed before Supreme Machine was born. The one person in the world who still looked at the monster and saw Tom. The one person who had never given up hope, never shrugged him off as a lost cause. And while SuMa’s hate for Jenny grew, Tom found himself saving his strength, trying to prepare for the inevitable clash of wills that was coming. And Tom was sure SuMa knew that if he acted against Jenny… he would have to fight Tom as well. But what Tom wasn’t sure of was whether the monster relished the chance, or dreaded it.

Yet the confrontation had come sooner than Tom had anticipated. To his shock he realized that SuMa had made his way to the bedroom where Jenny was sleeping. In the dead of night, he had been shook awake by ill intent emanating from his evil half. And when he got his bearings, he looked through his own eyes, seeing the resting form of his sister. Defenseless. Unaware of the danger that loomed above her. As SuMa watched the peacefully sleeping woman like the horror-movie villain he was often mocked as… All he could feel was the anger he felt when Iceman held a gun to him and read the riot act to him. A growl emanated from his chest as he muttered out quietly. “Traitors… deserve… death…” and then, he lunged at Jenny, with the intent to kill.

Except he was stopped mid-stride, his hand clenching inches from Jenny’s throat. Like an invisible chain, SuMa found himself restrained. By Tom. With incredible force of will, Tom pushed SuMa aside and ripped the control of their shared body from him. “NO!” he exclaimed the moment he took the reins. “NOT HER!”

The monster was caught off-guard. The shock of being shoved aside throwing him for a loop. “How??” the monster tried to shout, but his voice was suppressed as Tom asserted full control. “What do you think you can accomplish? You can’t keep us down for long…” the monster snarled, malicious intent in it’s voice. “Is it really worth it?? You’re just delaying the inevitable!” The threats didn’t fall on deaf ears. Tom knew he’d pay for this. But he had to do it.

“This is one line I won’t let you cross. Not as long as I live” Tom responded with a strained voice. It took great effort to keep the monster at bay, so he was silently begging for Jenny to wake up. Step by step, with massive effort, he moved away from the sleeping woman, the monster wearing down his resolve with relentless blows, one after another. But he had to persist. Had to endure.

“You fool.. She chose her side when she sent the Iceman after us! We can’t let this slide, weakling!” The monster’s battering intensified as he saw his prey getting more and more distant. His attacks on Tom caused the man to grunt out loud, with every move of the body taking great strength to accomplish. As one of the Monsters mental strikes timed perfectly with a step, Tom lost his balance and crumpled against a vanity table, sending make-up containers clattering to the floor. And that noise was enough to raise Jenny from her slumber. She sat up and looked around in confusion, blinking as she saw the mountain of a man struggling to get to his feet, and her defensive instincts kicked in.

Jenny leaped up from the bed, sleepiness waning in an instant. She assumed a defensive stance, keeping the bed between her and the monster. “What do you want, big guy?” She asked, her voice tinged with caution. She could sense something was off, but she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what. “What’s going on?”

Refusing to even look at her, Tom kept his eyes on the door, hoping he could make it there before the monster broke through. “He’s gonna kill you” he forced through his lips between labored breaths and grunts of effort. “You gotta get away”

The voice stopped Jenny on her tracks. “Tom??” The question was laced with confusion and disbelief. Leaning forward, Jenny tried to look into the man’s eyes, as that had always been the surefire way to know which one of the sides was in charge, Tom’s eyes always seemingly kinder and sparkling with life in contrast to the dull deadness of SuMa. But she couldn’t see, as his eyes were shut tight, creased with effort.

“YES! RUN!” The struggling man screamed through his teeth. Little by little he was losing his hold, his body moving against his will. And on the back of his head, malicious laughter rang. The monster knew it was winning. Slowly but surely. “He’s getting free… Can’t.. .hold… him…” Tom physically grabbed his hand with his other hand, trying to keep control of it by sheer force. “LEAVE!”

Quickly assessing the situation, Jenny leaped to her nightstand, pulling out the tool given to him by Mitchell. On the dim moonlight shone in from the windows, a metallic glint emanated from the needle of a syringe, one that the Iceman had handed to Jenny as a last resort. Mitchell had told her the contents were enough to paralyze a full-grown silverback, and when Jenny looked at the intense struggle between her brother and the monster within… she just had to help. She took a step closer, the focus of the struggle moving away from her and took advantage of the distraction, sinking the needle into the muscular arm of the masked man.”Hang in there Tom…” She mumbled under her breath as the liquid slowly made its way out of the syringe and into the circulation of the scarred monster.

The stinging pain alerted Tom, and he swung his head around to stare at Jenny, his eyes wide in confusion. He didn’t have time to process what had happened before his legs went out from under him, and with his entire body falling limp, he crashed onto the ground. And as the strength left his limbs, the monster finally broke through, violently shoving Tom into the background. Lying on the ground, SuMa stared up at Jenny who was eyeing him warily. “You BITCH…” he slurred through numb lips. “What did you do!?” SuMa tried to push himself up to his feet, but he didn’t have any strength in his body. His hands and legs refused to respond to his commands. All he could do was stare up at the woman who he had come to kill.

Jenny knelt next to him, keeping enough distance so she could withdraw if he showed signs of being able to act. And from his words and the way he was looking at her, she knew SuMa had gotten control again. “Let Tom free you piece of shit…” She spat at him, venom dripping from her words. “I’ve neutralized you.”

Despite the situation, SuMa began laughing. “Or what?” he asked in a mocking tone. “You’re going to kill us? Kill Tom?” he shook his head, or tried to, as the drug was still inhibiting his movement. “You don’t have the spine. You cling onto the slim hope that you can save the weakling. That one day we’ll be gone and he’ll be all that remains.” SuMa began to stir, with nigh-inhuman determination he began to sit up, every slightest move coming with great strain, visible in his face. “You think this trick will keep us down for long?” His voice was full of mockery, false bravado to hide the fact that not even he could fully ignore the paralyzing agent running in his veins.

In face of his defiant words, Jenny gave a somber chuckle. “Kill you? I’ve considered it… but there are fates worse than death…” she said as she reached for another syringe, showing it to SuMa. “This… is the dirtiest, filthies, cheapest heroin you can find in the market… Have you heard about the locked in syndrome?” She let the words dangle in the air. It was something her cousin, Matt Knox had told her about. “I push this needle into you and you’ll be a living statue… aware. But unable to move. Forever.” She brought the syringe closer to SuMa’s arm, cocking her head to the side slowly in a manner very reminiscent of her brother’s “So tell me again…is there hope for Tom to come back?” Her voice had gone really low, barely a whisper.

SuMa’s eyes were locked on the syringe, the effort of keeping his body upright causing his brow to furrow and his eyes to squint. “You wouldn’t…” He replied, trying to maintain the boastful edge to his voice, but it faltered. For the first time in his life, the masked monster was afraid. And turns out that fear… is a powerful tool of self-preservation as SuMa suddenly pushed with all his might and bolted to his feet, swaying like a drunkard after last call, but remaining on his feet. He leant against the wall slightly, but his eyes never left the syringe. “Try your luck.” He spat at Jenny.

Jenny stared in terror as SuMa began to rise. She thought she had the situation well in hand, that she had him dead to rights, that the drug was enough to keep him grounded. And yet, the masked monster was standing up. For a passing moment Jenny considered lunging at him and sticking the heroin-laced needle into his arm and sentencing her brother to a fate worse than death. Yet… The fact that Tom had pushed through, ever so briefly, gave her hope. Hope that one day he would emerge victorious against the evil within. So she stayed her hand. “One chance. That is all you get you fuck.” she snarled at him. “Leave. Get out of my life. As long as you hold Tom hostage… Mitchell will watch over you. As long as you hold Tom hostage… you are dead to me.” She pointed at the door, managing to keep her hand from shaking and her voice from breaking. “You went too far. Get out. Because next time? Next time I WILL end you.”

Still swaying, but having managed to stabilize himself, SuMa looked at Jenny with disgust. He was still too weak and sluggish from the drug to go for an attack, but retreat was a tough one to swallow. “Fine.” He mumbled as he lurched towards the door, using his hand on the wall to steady himself. “But this isn’t over.” He threw an indignant glance at the woman. “Not by a long shot” his final threat seemed empty as he barely got through the doorway, with Jenny following him downstairs and to the front door. Gathering his strength to make a somewhat-dignified exit, SuMa threw one last hate-filled look at Jenny and disappeared into the night, still stumbling like a drunkard.

As the door closed and SuMa vanished, Jenny fell on her ass to the ground, adrenaline finally starting to subside and exhausting kicking in. Half walking, half-crawling she made her way back upstairs and into her bed, reaching for her phone with hands shaking like leaf in a storm and began to type out a message to Mitchell. “It’s over. He’s gone. It’s up to you now.”

A few minutes passed as Jenny hovered on the edge of unconsciousness, remaining aware only because of the fear of SuMa returning, until her phone beeped, and on the screen she saw a message that was short and to the point, very much as per usual for the “Iceman” Mitchell. “On it.”

Jenny let out a deep sigh of relief, knowing that the masked monster was being kept tabs on. She laid down on the bed, realizing a single tear was rolling down her cheek. She knew that there was only one way this would end for him and her. A grim fate for either… and she hated it. Wiping the tear off she muttered quietly, more to herself than anyone else. “I’m sorry Tom… so sorry…”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Final Battle (offcam)

Moonlight shines down on a sleepy city, clouds partially covering the fullness of the pale spot on the sky. Outside the colorful cavalcade of color cast by neon billboards, the streets and alleyways are shrouded in darkness. And in that darkness stalks Supreme Machine. Tonight he is on the hunt. Tonight he has a goal and tonight… he will end his ordeal. Moving silently from shadow to shadow, he lurks, eyes peeled to detect the slightest movement, the slightest change. Tonight he has a particular prey, tonight he only has one goal.

Suddenly his ears perk up. He heard a noise in the distance. A metallic click, followed by the shuffling of fabric. A smile spreads to SuMa’s mangled lips. It can only be his target. His pace quickens as he begins to jog around a corner and up a fire escape, moving in a manner way more agile than a man of his 360lbs girth had any right to. He tries the fire exit, it’s open. Staying silent, he slips into the building, looking around. The rundown, decrepit state of the walls and floors suggests it's abandoned. Even better, he thinks to himself as he moves towards the direction of the sound, stopping infront of a half–open door that stands out from the rest, showing signs of use unlike the other rusty and dusty ones.

He listens behind the door. Holding his breath as he ever so slowly cracks the door wider and wider, just wide enough to slip inside. It’s an apartment, long since disused. He sees footprints in the thick layer of dust on the floor. He’s in the right place. He stops behind a corner that opens up into a big room and listens. Breathing, calm and measured. A soft tapping sound, flesh meeting plastic. Then a voice.

“No, haven’t seen him tonight. I got a full view of his hiding place. Probably still licking his wounds inside”. SuMa recognizes the voice. It’s Mitchell. He makes a mental note that he was right to switch locations to rest. The Iceman thought him predictable. It gives the monster the advantage. SuMa considers his options of attack as the man speaks again. “Yeah, I should be done by damn. Don’t worry, I’m always careful. Love you too.”

Another tapping sound, signaling the end of the call. SuMa carefully peeks around the corner to see his prey. A silhouette painted against the pale moonlight and bright neon billboards. The stocky man seemed tense, fiddling with the hem of his trenchcoat. On the window sill next to the man, SuMa sees a large caliber rifle. Scoped. And resting on his belt, a large handgun. He is well armed. But he is looking out, not in. Distracted. Unaware.

He carefully measures the distance. About 15 feet. That's how much he has to cover fast enough to prevent Mitchell from going for his gun. He has two options. Try to sneak closer before lunging, risking early exposure, or just charge flat out, risking giving him enough time to react. In silence SuMa calculated the situation. Assessing risk vs reward. Both approaches had their merits. But before he could make a decision, he gets a stroke of luck that decides it for him. A loud clunking noise from the outside distracts Mitchell, who immediately begins to peer into the night, turning his back to SuMa. A fatal mistake.

Making a split second decision, SuMa charges. Pushing his 6’9’’, 360 pound frame into motion in a way that defies belief. His thudding footsteps alerting Mitchell to his impeding doom, and with shockingly fast reflexes, he spins around and reaches for his gun. It’s a matter of milliseconds as SuMa sees Mitchell draw the massive Desert Eagle out of his belt just as their bodies collide, SuMa crashing into Mitchell with the power of a runaway freight train. Mitchell gets squashed against the concrete wall, air escaping his lungs with a resounding thud. But at the same time, a loud bang and the smell of gunpowder as the high-caliber handgun discharges, SuMa hearing the bullet whizzing past his ear, barely missing.

In a rapid flurry of motion, SuMa reaches down to rip the gun from Mitchells hand, throwing it out of the room, then grabbing him with both hands and sending him flying across the room with an emphatic throw. Mitchell lands on the floor and grunts in pain, but after quickly shaking the cobwebs out of his head, he stands up and takes a fighing stance, his resolve impressing the masked monster. He locks eyes with SuMa, showing no emotion. On his face. No fear. No Anger. Just stoic calm. “So… this is where it ends. This is where you fall Thomas…” Mitchell speaks in a mocking tone, using the name he knows SuMa hates. He’s trying to rile him up, trying to get him to lash out in anger. A solid plan. Most of the time.

But not this time. Instead of playing his game, SuMa just cocks his head to the side, measuring up the defiant Mitchell. “For you, Iceman” he responds coldly. Not letting the iceman get under his skin, keeping his cool. This battle was too important to waste. SuMa knew that Mitchell was far more dangerous than he seemed. That the short, stocky build and non-descript appearance hid a man used to killing. A man used to fighting at a disadvantage. A man used to punching above his weight. A man who had survived the criminal underworld as one of its premier hitmen for a decade and lived to tell the tale. SuMa knew he couldn’t get complacent. So he waited for Mitchell to make the first move, take the initiative. But none was forthcoming. Mitchell was too smart. Keeping his distance from SuMa, he adopted a defensive posture, almost beckoning SuMa to strike. So it was a standoff between the powerhouse and the technical marvel.

Mitchell knew that if he was to have any chance of winning, he needed to goad the masked monster into making the first move. So he spoke up, his voice dripping with venom. “What’s wrong Thomas?” He gave him a condescending smile. “Scared?” The words were designed for maximum effect in an attempt to bait out an emotional response. Showing no fear to the monster, using his real name. But to Mitchell’s disappointment, SuMa refused to give in. Ever since the first contact, SuMa’s mind had gotten focused. He had one objective. Neutralize the iceman. And he would not let anything distract him from it. So he kept his head cool, staring at Mitchell intently, looking for any signs of an opening. He would have to force Mitchell to commit a mistake. Maybe use his own means against him?

SuMa allowed a cocky smile to spread to his mangled lips, twisting his face into a hellish visage. “No… we have all night…” He gave a flat, emotionless chuckle. “You will tire out eventually… we are patient. We can wait” He circled Mitchell as he spoke, the iceman responding in kind as the standoff turned into slow-turning dance. SuMa tried to get a read on Mitchell, but the stoic man's face was impossible to decipher. And he found himself half-way respecting the former hitman's composure. It was obvious he was far above his usual prey.

The two warriors circled each other for minutes, time slowly passing with neither blinking, neither making the first move. The distance between them hadn’t grown nor had it shrunk. Neither was willing to back down, nor advance. It was almost ritualistic how they kept on circling, measuring each other up, looking for the slightest shift in posture, the smallest opening. This continued for a good while until SuMa spotted a piece of debris behind the iceman, just out of his path. Keeping his face stoic, a plan formulated as he slowly circled towards it. He slightly increased his distance, suppressing a smile as the Mitchells eyes lit up for a split second. The iceman had spotted the piece of debris as well, having circled past the exact same spot dozens of times. So when SuMa got around to that side, he kept his eyes locked with Mitchells, pretending to trip on the piece of debris. He shifted his bodyweight oh so slightly to one side to appear off balance… and the Iceman took the bait.

And just like that the final battle began. Mitchell rushed forward, aiming for SuMa’s legs, trying to shoot for a takedown on the off-balance monster. In the mind of the Iceman, taking away SuMa’s base would even the playing field, taking away his biggest advantage, his size and strength, thus putting them on equal ground. As Mitchell lunged though, SuMa was ready, shifting his center of balance enough to dodge the rush, grabbing Iceman by his outstretched arm. He secured his hold with a dual grip, and the moment it was secured, he let gravity do the work for him, crashing down on top of the Iceman, the arm getting pinned between concrete and 360 pound of flesh and muscle. A sickening crunch echoed from the bare walls as the bone snapped and ligaments tore away. And to his credit, SuMa realized the iceman hadn’t let out a single sound and was ignoring the pain as he was attempting to roll away from the monster's deathgrip.

But SuMa wouldn’t let him go. He leant back, pinning Mitchell to the ground with his sheer mass as he yanked and yanked on the arm until it got torn clean off the socket with a wet plop. SuMa let go of the now-limp arm and lifted his own up above his head, driving it down so that the point of his elbow smashed down on Mitchells spine, blowing the air out of his lungs and momentarily paralyzing him. With a satisfied smirk on his face, SuMa stood up, looking down on his helpless foe, writhing on the ground in immense pain. He prodded Mitchell with the toe of his boot, eliciting a yelp of pain from the man.

SuMa chuckled. “And so ends the story of the Iceman…” he mused out loud, reaching down to grab Mitchells leg, lifting him up by the ankle until the leg was straight up and tense and with ruthless force, aimed a stiff kick in the kneecap, shattering it on impact. For good measure he used a two handed grip to casually snap his ankle as well, before nonchalantly dropping the leg to the ground and flipping his prey on his back. He leant down to gaze in Mitchells eyes, glazed over in pain and placed his massive boot on his chest. He reached down to slap Iceman in the face, snapping him out of the haze he had fallen into, and when his eyes sharpened, SuMa took joy in the fact that he had finally gotten the stoic man to show emotion. His eyes were full of fear. Well concealed, but obvious. With a malicious laughter, SuMa pushed down on his chest, enough to make sure it was felt but not enough to cause damage and spoke in a low growl. “Tell us, Iceman… are you ready to die?”

As he spoke those words, the look on Mitchell’s face changed. To SuMa’s surprise, fear melted into something else. Acceptance. Even relief. Never breaking eye contact, Mitchell spat out a glob of blood and responded with a pained breath and a hoarse voice. “Do it.” It was a weak response, and Mitchell desperately tried to gather his strength to continue. “Balance out the red in my ledger…” he muttered, swaying on the edge of unconsciousness.

SuMa found himself amused by the cliched expression used by Mitchell, rolling his eyes at it while he lifted his boot up, hovering it above his chest. He knew that all he had to do was push it down with full force, caving in his chest and it would be over, the Iceman would be no more. And Mitchell knew it too, closing his eyes in serene resignation, waiting for the inevitable end. There was nothing but silence broken only by the ragged breaths of the downed man… and then a heavy thud echoed. “No. Death is too good for you” SuMa growled at Mitchell, who opened his eyes to see that SuMa’s massive boot had landed on the concrete floor next to his head, so hard that the old material had cracked deeply. “Living with failure is a worse punishment for you.” SuMa continued, pulling his leg back and standing up straight, then turning to leave the gravely injured man.

Mitchells followed his departing back, eyes wide in bewilderment. That night “Iceman” Adam Mitchell learned that Supreme Machine wasn’t just a merciless killing machine. No, he was something more, something worse. He learned that Supreme Machine knew what true suffering was.. And how sometimes dying is the easy way our. And most of all… Adam Mitchell learned that Supreme Machine was not someone you should mess with. And it was a painful lesson, one that he would remember for the rest of his days.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We open up to a rather odd view. It’s daytime, the sun is shining down in the streets of Los Angeles. And amongst the crowd of people milling about in front of the Galen Center, stands the 6’9’’ masked monster known to the wrestling world as Supreme Machine. SuMa has thrown a hooded jacket over his normally bare torso, yet his sheer physical presence attracts the attention of many on-lookers. The camera zooms in closer to him, and he begins to speak in a low, gruff voice that is more like a growl than any human sound.

“Blaze of Glory. What a fitting name. The last month in SCW hasn’t exactly gone to plan for us… Goth managed to bring us unconscious long enough to defeat us… Bane turned on us simply because we were ready to do whatever was necessary to help his cause… And thus, instead of sitting at the top of the card challenging for the World Heavyweight championship… we are relegated to a gauntlet match with men who are so far below our level they are barely worth mentioning.”

SuMa raises his head, pulling the hood that covers his face up just enough to reveal the leather mask that hides most of his face, and the mangled lips that are his most striking and defining feature. A quick murmur goes around in the crowd as those who haven’t seen him before are surprised by his appearance. SuMa casts a disgusted glance around him before continuing, ignoring the gathering masses.

“Yet… We haven’t forgotten the betrayal of Bane. One day. Sooner than he thinks… we will exact our vengeance on him. This gauntlet match… is for a championship opportunity. And unless the SCW management is a group of spineless fools… and unless Bane shits the bed and loses the title… We will be using the one we will win to challenge him…”

He pauses for a moment, chuckling as he glances over his shoulder to a banner hanging on the side of the Galen Center, one advertising the Internet Championship match between the champion Davison and the challengers Washington and… “The Raven” Matt Knox. He looks at the banner for a while, then continues.

“Of course… if the above things happen… we have another target. Depending on who triumphs amongst the grandstading fools… We will take great pleasure in either destroying Bane’s ally, the man who went to his knees on command like the dog he is and acted as the force to trip us in Davison… Or we will engage in a battle long coming with the Raven. Sure. both of them might live up to their nature as failures and drop the ball to Washington… but him we have already triumphed over… so he is not a factor. So many variables of our future path. So many options. Yet, one stands above all and the rest are but consolation prizes. Mark Ward should pay close attention to our words. Because if we are denied what we demand… there WILL be blood. And the blood of those innocents will be on his hands.”

The masked monster delivers his threat with an intense voice, yet he never raises it. He doesn’t need to. The masses around him seem to agree as they are slowly edging closer and closer to the man, not realizing that venturing too close is risky, as one over-eager man realized as he got swatted to the face for trying to reach out and touch SuMa. Not letting this distract him, the monster continued.

“So the Gauntlet… The list of names we are looking at is pathetic. Romano… a biker who thinks he can wrestle. Kasey, who we already defeated long ago. Then a pair of nobodies we have never heard of nor do we care about… and then there is Goth. The man who managed to subdue us… momentarily. See, Goth… we do not forget. Nor do we forgive. You can count on one thing when the bell rings at Blaze of Glory. You will bleed. You will be hurt. And depending on how much you try to resist us… you will suffer. We will make it our mission that even if by some stroke of luck someone manages to eliminate us… we will bring you down before that. You will be the main focus of our aggression. We will take you and tear you to pieces little by little. As the whole world watches Goth.. .you will be broken. Physically and Mentally. That we guarantee. And anyone who tries to intervene. Trying to get involved will suffer the same fate. You will be alone the Goth, without escape, without respite. That is your future. We hope you are prepared.”

As he began to proclaim what he had in store for Goth, the crowd began to murmur again. The sheer bluntness of his words shocking some of the folks, while enticing others. Suffice to say, by coming out to the daylight, SuMa had raised the interest in the upcoming match quite a lot.

“Kasey. Do you still remember the last time you faced us? We left you crumpled on the floor, hurt and bleeding. Are you willing or able to go through the same ordeal this time? Are you willing to risk your own well-being once again? See… this time Fenris is busy. The white wolf is fighting a foe just as great as we were. He won’t have the energy nor the time to watch out after you. This time you are at our mercy… and we have none. If you were smart Kasey… you would not show up. You would remain backstage and watch as we destroy everyone… and then surrender without a fight. Because that is the only way you will be getting out of Blaze of Glory in one piece… mark our words. Question us and die.”

The crowd had already started to form into groups. Some had taken place behind SuMa, as if to signify they stand with him, while others keep their distance, not sure if they are disgusted or terrified of the masked monster. SuMa himself doesn’t seem to care as he continues.

“Romano… We can’t be bothered to speak of you too much. You are a non-entity. A biker who has no business being in the ring. When the time comes to put you out of your misery, we won’t even enjoy it… It will be just something we will do to get where we want to be. You are a stain Romano, a complete joke… and nobody is laughing. How you ever triumphed enough to claim the Internet title… we have no idea. It probably tells more about your opponent than about you. Come to Blaze of Glory, Romano… and we will make sure you will not just never wrestle again.. But you will never race again. We will spit in your face and break your legs just because we can. To hammer home just how much of a pathetic joke you are. Be smart Romano… don’t show up. Leave, go race your toy cycles. You are a disgrace.”

His lashing of Romano elicited a mixed reaction. Apparently there are now actual pre-existing SCW fans coming to the scene. It was Los Angeles after all, so something like that doesn’t go unnoticed for long. SuMa begins to pace around the area, shoving aside any onlooker unfortunate enough to remain in his path.

“Whelan. Your name is completely foreign to us. During our time in SCW, you have never done anything remotely worthy for us to pay attention to. And that alone speaks volumes of just how insignificant you are. You are a non-entity. Someone in here just to make up the numbers. And that shall be your fate. That shall be your destiny. You will enter, nobody will care, you will get eliminated and nobody will care. You will go about your life and nobody will care. Your great misfortune was to be put in a match with us. Had it been anyone else in this match you might’ve been able to continue your worthless existence in peace, just going through the motions and being there to make up the numbers. But we do not operate like that. You are our prey the second you step into the ring, the second the bell rings. And you will pay in blood for the transgressions of others”

It is obvious SuMa can’t be bothered to speak about Finn anymore, stopping his pacing and staring at the camera again, something in his posture changing.

“Then there is MacDonald. Jaycee… or just JC. It is amazing how many people there are in this business who call themselves by that. And we have fought the best of the JC’s. He barely triumphed. A deed he will not repeat should our paths cross again. But at Blaze of Glory THAT JC will be fighting Fenris… And we are stuck with the cheap knockoff. The only one to have said their piece before us. Something we applaud. But his words… showed his ignorance. Calling us an attack dog. Someone in need of a handler. He fails to see the forest from the trees… He sees our size and our appearance and signs us off as just another monster. When we are so much more. It took the very best in SCW to put us down at Inception, and even then with great difficulty. We got recruited by Mac Bane because he wanted someone who can do things he can… only to back down when public pressure got too much. See, JC… there is something the esteemed champion fails to mention… we have already beaten Bane before. And if we have beaten Bane… what hope do you think you have? Are we just a monster, nothing but strength and size? You should hope so… because you clearly have made up your mind about your gameplan, about your approach… so when we subvert your expectations… when we show intellect and creativity… you will be caught unaware, unprepared… unable to react. Go ahead JC… sell us short. Mock us. Ridicule us. It will all just serve our ends when we take you along with everyone else in the match and break you open like a ripe fruit.”

SuMa stands up to his full height and spreads his arms on the side in a crucifix pose, a hush of expectation running over the crowd surrounding him

“We are Supreme Machine. At Blaze of Glory we will dominate the gauntlet and afterwards… we will see revenge on Bane. We will take the championship opportunity we are granted and claim it on Bane… And if Bane chokes… if Bane loses.. We will take it on either Davison or The Raven. We have set out stakes. Now… Goth. Romano. Whelan. JC. Kasey. Come and face us.”

The camera zooms right in and you can see SuMa smiling in a creepy manner.

“Our Path of Destruction continues…”

With that, the view fades to black

Planning (offcam)

There had been a distinct change in the demeanor of the masked monster known as Supreme Machine. The watching eye of Iceman Mitchell looming over his shoulder, the defeat in the hands of Fenris and the strife between him and Mac Bane, sown by Matt Knox’ revelation of SuMa’s visit to his wife. All these setbacks and inconveniences had rattled the monster. He wasn’t a stranger to adversity, but to have so many things go wrong in such a short amount of time wasn’t something he was used to.

Resting away in what could only be described as his lair, the monster considered his options. He knew he would have to deal with it all, and the betrayal committed by Jennifer, his sister, in siccing the Iceman on him. But he ran down the list.

The defeat to Fenris was a blow to his image. But it could be rectified. Fenris was amongst the best in Sin City Wrestling, a defeat to him wouldn’t leave SuMa completely without credibility. With his next match already being announced he knew he could regain the momentum he lost. Rise above and resume what he did best. Dominate.

But… the strife caused by Matt Knox was an issue. SuMa knew that Mac Bane didn’t approve of his methods. The man despite the brutal edge he held and professed had his morals. The hills he would die on. It would be a difficult undertaking to mend this rend in their relations. But SuMa had an idea. Hunting is just as much observing as it is acting. Prey and potential Rivals alike were studied. And as he put together everything he knew about Mac Bane’s character as well as the way this whole situation unfolded a plan formed. It shouldn’t be too hard to shift this all on Knox. Point out to Bane how he knew what he was getting in Supreme Machine. Put Bane in a situation where he couldn’t get angry lest he expose his own ignorance. Then point out that Knox was trying to strike a divide into the Saviors. Because he was afraid of them. Because he knew that Mac drew strength from his allies…

Yes. Appeal to Mac Banes pride. Knox knew he couldn’t beat him as is so he was trying to deprive Bane of his allies. All in the hunt for the affection of Amber Bane-Ryan.

Sometimes SuMa wondered how a man so simple as Matthew Knox could constantly prove to be a thorn in his side. The Raven was a mighty fighter. But he was so predictable. So driven by his selfish desires of flesh that SuMa shouldn’t see him as a threat. It was a conundrum and a half. A conundrum he would be putting to rest sooner than later.

But Iceman offered the biggest nuisance. SuMa was a predator. Used to being able to do what he wanted, when he wanted, how he wanted. With the grizzled mercenary on his tail… His options were limited. SuMa knew that Mitchell couldn’t be everywhere at all times, but that didn’t help. Because he never knew if the Iceman was watching or not. He never knew if he was being watched or not. Second guessing himself before acting. And that was something a predator like him could not do. To second guess yourself is to hesitate. And to hesitate is to fail. Slowly SuMa began to piece together what he knew of the Iceman and what he could use to shake him from his tail.

Officially a private investigator. Used to snooping around and moving unseen. But in the past, a hitman. The most feared hired gun in the criminal underworld. Man with many enemies, but a lot of contacts as well. Iceman didn’t work alone though. There was his partner. Xiao Ling Mei. A woman of many means and solutions. But unlike most who had gone after the masked monster, Iceman wasn’t afraid of him going after those close to him. SuMa discarded the plan of hunting down Ling. It would not get him anywhere. So he turned to what else he knew..  SuMa had observed him in their encounter. He moved like a predator. Confident, alert. But at the same time the Iceman had something SuMa didn’t. A conscience. A sense of morals.

That could be his in. If pushed to a point where his hand was forced, would Iceman compromise his morals? He had said he had a lot of red on his ledger, a terribly cliche thing to say… But he was looking to atone. Maybe, if SuMa put him in a situation where the only way to stop him was putting more red there. It seemed like the approach to take. So he filed it to the back of his mind for further development.

That left one more loose end. Jennifer. She had sent the Iceman after him. The one person in this world that had stood by his side since the day he became what he is today. SuMa had watched from the side as Jenny struggled with her own demons. The affliction that made Thomas Rivers the monster he is today, had turned out to be hereditary, and Jenny had fought long and hard against hers. “Queenie” as her alter ego called herself had surfaced and submerged seemingly at random. So SuMa hadn’t worried much. But now that she had managed to get her head straight and solved her own issues… she had caught SuMa by surprise by taking action against him.

It could not be felt to stand. But there were three issues. One, Jennifer's resources, the wealth she had gained after her less-than-amicable divorce from her former husband, the promoter Alexander Stryfe had been instrumental in allowing SuMa to do as he pleased. She had made sure he could remain untouched by law. So he will lose that safety if he acts against her. Second, Iceman had made a pretty clear threat regarding that. Something happens to Jennifer and he will find himself a wanted man. Something he did not need impeding his indulgences. And lastly… Tom. SuMa had noticed a trend. When it came to Jennifer, that's when the weakling was at his strongest. Whenever Jenny was concerned, that's when the suppressed personality fought the hardest and even gained a momentary upper hand.

Dealing with her was going to take finesse. Something SuMa usually wasn’t too fond of. Capable? Yes, but fond? Not really. So he filed it away for the time being, careful not to rouse Tom. He didn’t need his incessant whining right now. Or ever. But such was the nature of their co-existence.

Letting out a deep sigh SuMa leant back and closed his eyes. He had his work cut out for him. But atleast in the ring he would be able to challenge himself and unwind some of this frustration. This Blast for the Past tournament had inconveniences such as having to team up with a total stranger to him, someone he hadn’t paid any heed to due to the limitations of Sin City Wrestlings rules… but ultimately it was of no mind. He knew that if needed, he could win the tournament alone. Despite his partner. With a small smile caressing his mangled lips he fell asleep.
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to overcome a defeat. (oncam)

We open up to a view we have seen a few times before, Supreme Machine standing in a darkened room with a single spotlight shining in its midst. The masked monster seems tense, staring at the camera with an unblinking gaze. When he speaks, his voice is almost somber.

“Defeat. It has a bitter taste. One that never gets easier. It is something we have seldom tasted. Yet, when it happens it is always something that rests forever in the memory of those who were involved in it. In the past year, we can count our defeats with one hand. We can name every date… every location and every foe that has pinned our shoulders to the mat for a 3 count. So hear this Fenris. You are part of a group that is extremely exclusive. Take pride in your victory White Wolf… And remember that should our paths cross again, it will not repeat itself.”

The last statement has an air of finality about it. If the rematch ever happened, it was clear that SuMa wouldn’t allow for a second defeat. But there is a clear edge to his voice. Unlike the unflinching figure he had cut before, now there was something off. Something not quite right.

“But the bitter taste of defeat has an upside. It is so unpleasant that it prevents you from wallowing in it. It steels your will to make sure you never have to taste it again. A predator misses its target every now and then. The prey sometimes slips his grasp and lives to fight another day. The mark of a true predator is what comes after. A true predator does not slump down in despair to rue its mistakes. A true predator stands back up and begins the hunt anew. Defeat is a lesson. Defeat is a test. And only those who truly are at the Apex can continue as if nothing happened. That is what we are.”

As SuMa speaks, there starts to form a sense of doubt. Its almost as if he was trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince the audience. The loss to Fenris seemed to be a bigger blow than he was willing to admit. Even to himself.

“Soon our defeat in Fenris’ hands will be but a faint memory. Soon those who watch us and follow us will be awed by new triumphs, new conquests. To wash away the bitter taste… nothing is more effective than the taste of victory. And that is what we are taking at Climax Control 321. The Blast from the Past tournament shall mark a new branch in our path of destruction. A new head on our wall. At Blast from the Past we will prove that we are not only exactly as dangerous and dominating as our reputation suggests… but we are capable of pushing through whatever adversity is thrown our way even if we are forced to carry a load on our shoulders.”

The uncertainty is starting to fade and the confident monster is returning to his usual self. But such a vision, be it however brief, showed that behind the bluster, behind the grotesque appearance and the brutality… he was still a man.

“Samantha Marlowe… your name means nothing to us. We do not know who you are nor do we care. We waste no time on people who are not relevant to our interests and in SCW that means every female. You are forbidden prey for us and thus we spent no energy in learning about you. Yet, our fates are tied for this Tournament. So we are going to rectify this moving forward. We will observe you in the ring. Find your weaknesses so we can compensate for them. Find your strengths so we can give you space. But know this Samantha Marlowe… We suffer no hindrances. If you find yourself unable to do your part, incapable of holding up your part of the bargain then you are nothing more than an annoying bug to be squashed. Fight well and be rewarded with success. Fail and pay the price.”

SuMa stretches a bit as he says the last part, nonchalantly flexing his physique almost absentmindedly. The message couldn’t be more clear.

“Our disinterest applies to Krystal Wolfe as well. She had choice words for us. We couldn’t care less. Her participation in this match is irrelevant for us. It does not concern us. As long as our partner does her part, Wolfe is a non-entity due to the rules. So we will not put much thought into her. Should we be allowed to dispose of her on our own we would bother to study up, to learn. But we won’t. It is true that we care little about the rules that bind everyone in that ring and should we have an opportunity we will step over that line and disregard them simply because we can… Yet we see that it would merely hinder us in the long run. So you are safe from us Wolfe… for now. Just remember that it can change at a moment's notice. That in the blink of an eye we can go from imposing… to devastating. Keep that in your mind.”

He chuckles for a moment, having had to consider female opponents for this match was a change of pace for him.

“That brings us to our primary focus. The one person in this match we can go all out on… without interruptions. Jack Washington. When we saw your name, we stood puzzled for a moment as it struck a chord of some sort. We had heard your name before. Seen your face. It took us a while to piece it together. The man who managed to upset Mac Bane in a one-on-one match. Only to lose out to Davison the next week. A man who felt the wrath of the Saviors full force. We had filed you away as a non-entity. We never expected you to cross our path again, not after failing so spectacularly to assert yourself in the fourway. Yet, here you are. A cruel twist of fate… for you. See, we know how impressive defeating Mac Bane is. We have done it before ourselves. We know how tough he is and you managed to do that. Yet, one victory does not make you a force to be reckoned… it merely makes you a target.”

SuMa throws his hands to his sides in a crucifix-pose and begins to speak in a voice lot louder than he had until this point, his gravelly voice echoing from the bare walls of the room he stood in.

“At Climax Control you will be called upon to prove your worth Jack Washington. You are looking to challenge Davison in the future without a doubt. But before you get there you will have to contend with us. Whether you have anything left to pursue Davison with afterwards remains to be seen. We know that you and everyone else are looking at Inception V and trying to use our defeat in the hands of Fenris as proof that we are not the force we claim to be. Go on. Do it. It will make our life easier. Because just like one victory does not make you a force… one defeat does not make you a joke. You are not Fenris. You are not on his level. You are not on our level. And if you do not agree with our assessment of you… Prove us wrong.”

The camera zooms in to his face and staring right through the lens, SuMa almost whispers the last words before the view fades to black.

“The reaper calls your name Jack Washington… and we are his herald”

Marked (offcam)

The night was quiet, eerily so. A single figure can be seen moving. Supreme Machine is stalking the darkness. He found the house he was looking for and after scouting the perimeter, found his way in. “So arrogant… not even bothering to lock his doors…” he muttered to himself as he walked through the house owned by Matthew Knox. But it wasn’t the Raven he was after tonight. Tonight he had another target. Listening intently he moved about until he found the bedroom. Opening the door quietly he made his way over the bed that had one small figure lying on it.

SuMa stared down his target, assessing his options. It would be so easy to just end her right here and right now. Take a pillow and wound the Raven deeper than ever before. But something held his hand. Or more like, someone. The next generation growing inside the woman. The child who carried the same blood as the Monster hovering over her. So SuMa merely cleared his throat and growled out loud. “Wake up.”

The loud voice echoing was quick to bring the young woman out of her slumber. Her comfortable state snatched away immediately, with the poor girl having no time to adjust to being woken up. Eyes locking with the unfamiliar monster, she went to scream out, but thought better of it, simply clutching the locket around her neck and staying silent unsure of what was going to happen to her.

With the girl roused, SuMa took a closer look. He could feel the familiar darkness emanating from the child growing within her… but something was off. Not breaking eyecontact with the girl who was frozen like a deer in the headlights, SuMa reached over to click on the small bedside light. “You’re not her!” He bellowed out. Despite the fact that the girl infront of him was clearly pregnant with the child of Matt Knox, SuMa’s cousin, that wasn’t who he was trying to find. That wasn’t Kamari. That wasn’t the wife of Knox. SuMa leant down on the girl, grabbing a firm hold of her face. Not enough to break anything, but enough to make sure she knew he could if he wanted to. “Who are you. Where is Kamari.” His voice was a menacing snarl as he spoke inches from the girls face. Staring her right in the eyes in an attempt to establish dominance.

The young girl’s expression was clearly filled with fright, finding herself unable to move despite the attempts. She finally found it in her to speak, thinking it best to not draw any further ire. “Aimi.. my name is Aimi.. I don’t know where Mari is. Maybe in their ro..” her words were cut off by the door opening. It was almost too perfect timing. There stood Kamari, initially with a slightly annoyed look on her face, but it was quick to turn into one of concern. Her eyes darted around, looking for something to use against the beast. Muttering an expletive in her native tongue, she let out a sigh, doing her best to stand her ground. “Let the girl go.”

The reaction from the Monster was immediate. He pushed the girl he was holding down on the bed and with two quick steps crossed the room to stand in front of Kamari. He grabbed a hold of her arm to keep her in place. “This just got interesting…” the monster muttered, a small smile creeping to his mangled lips. “Looks like the Raven is hiding a secret after all” That was directed at the girl lying on the bed, Aimi. SuMa pulled Kamari across the room, not roughly but very insistently and pointed towards the bed. He wanted both the girls in a place where he could reach them at the same time. “Kamari… we know you must be wondering why we are here. We’ll tell you. The Raven finally struck. Chose to escalate. That is why we are here. To hammer home a point to him. A point of just how foolish it is to provoke us. Just how vulnerable he is. And to think…” SuMa let out a malicious chuckle, eyes darting between the two girls sitting on the bed. “We got two birds with one stone…” There was a small pause as he intentionally tried to unnever the girls. “Do tell us Kamari… Tell us her story. Another of the Ravens missteps? Does she know what that child growing in her means. What the blood of Knox truly carries?”

Initially, Kamari’s attention was drawn to the other girl, silently checking to make sure she was alright. Though her expression made it clear that there was worry over the present situation and unwanted guest. Locking eyes with him now, she gave a nod. “I know why you’re here. He told me what he set out to do, I just wish he was a bit more successful. Especially now. It’s okay though, in time things will be made right.” She paused for a moment, reflecting on the situation. “Aimi has nothing to do with any of this, leave it with us will you? She’s going to have a normal life. A normal child. Just as I’ll fight for mine to be the same.” Another moment to gather the right words to say. “If you must know.. she’s not a misstep, simply a welcomed surprise.”

The monster chuckled again. Seeing this very small, very round woman trying to put up a brave face and take care of the other girl amused him. “Things will be made right? You naive fool… the Raven doesn’t care about you. Either of you. OR those children growing in you. You are nothing more than a replacement. A stand-in. We would be doing both of you a favor if we just ended your miserable existences right here and right now… in more ways than one.” He looked down on the midsection of Kamari, making an obvious nod to her pregnant state. “You don’t even realize why the Raven came after us. Why he is going after Bane. You… are nothing more than a Chinese knockoff of the one he really wants… the one he is obsessed about. The one he let slip. Amber Ryan. The Raven is obsessed with her. To a point where the poor delusional fool sees himself as a knight in shining armor…” SuMa paced the room a bit, making note of all the exits and entrances. He had learned to grow careful about Knox. “Twisting himself into a knot to justify his actions. If you were smart Kamari… You would talk him down. Try it. He will show his real face. Challenge his obsession with Amber. And see the true Raven…”

Kamari did her best to scoff off his words, shaking her head. “I know he isn’t perfect. I know most of what he does has many layers of reason, but I also know that regardless of what ends up happening, he will make sure things are okay. Even if it’s for everyone but himself..” a small smile appears. “And you too now.” Before she could say more, she feels a hand on her shoulder. “Plus you are wrong. Wrong with everything.” Kamari turned her attention back to Aimi with a stern look. “今じゃない、アイミ...” it took that one second to see the crack in the armor.

SuMa took note of it as well. He moved quickly, snatching Aimi by the hand and pulled her up, nearly pulling the girl off the ground, forcing her to tiptoe as the monster’s hold on her wrist was relentless. “Wrong? How pathetic. You are so naive. But we guess that doesn’t surprise us. The Raven surrounds himself with people who are unable to see beyond the mask he puts up. He calls us the monster while he is worse than we could ever be. He hides behind a facade of being a hero. We make no such claims. But if he wants us to be the monster… the dragon for him to slay… maybe we could give him an actual reason…” With a vicious smile on his lips, SuMa lifted Aimi off the ground, the girl dangling by the arm in the monsters grasp. He pulled her to a point where he could look her right in the eye. “What do you think little one? Would your broken body light a fire in the Raven or would it get him to back off to avoid other collateral damage?”

Aimi did her best to break free from his grasp, wiggling herself, her expression now mixed in with anger as well. “Fire.. fire is not needed.. only spirit. You.. you know..” her words are cut off by Kamari. “Enough!” She stood up from the bed, stepping up to SuMa. “Put her down. You know the best shot is with me and who knows what that will even lead to, okay?! She’s young, she.. she doesn’t know. So put her down. Hell, tell her the truth for all I care.. just let her walk from this when it’s time.”

The cold gaze of the monster broke off from Aimi and turned to Kamari. He slowly cocked his head to the left and then to the right. Finally he relents and let go of the girl, who landed on the ground with a thump. “Just as we expected.” He looks down on Aimi. “That child that the Raven put in you. Will grow a monster just as us. The blood that we share with the Raven is tainted. Us. Our sister. The Raven. And his two children who are off blood. If you were smart… you would get rid of it and leave. Go far away and forget. But we think that is not an option.” He turned to face Kamari, staring down the small woman. “We think you are playing your own game. One that not even the Raven is aware. We know of your connection to Ahmya. We know some of the depths that she has sunk to. We think you are smarter than you put forth Kamari. And we know that you hear the whispers from within.” He moved forward and grabbed Kamari by the throat, putting his other hand on her bulging stomach. “We can feel the darkness growing there.” He squeezes the throat of the woman, making his intent clear. “And that is why we will let you live. Both of you. The children will be the Ravens final failure. His greatest failure. He will perish knowing he unleashed a whole new generation of monsters into the world.” He let go of Kamari, but with a quick slash of his free hand, cut a gash on  her cheek, not unlike the cuts in his own face. But just on one side as a message. “Unless you prefer oblivion…” he chuckles as he stares at a small bloodied razor in his hand. One that left a smooth cut on her face.

Kamari couldn’t help the struggled hiss that followed the slash. She held her throat for a minute while Aimi rushed to check on her wound, only to be stopped. “It’s fine.. I’m fine..” she let out a short cough before staring daggers now. “You sure have done your research, haven’t you. Wise to facts sworn buried. It’s why the whispers can taunt the way that they do.. but I’m still fighting it. I’ll continue to do so until I run out of reasons to be human. It’s not too late for her, she’ll find a way. Same with Naoko. There is hope for them. As far as oblivion? Maybe I’m doomed to it, maybe not. Why don’t you tell me. Tell me what you see in this room?”

“We always do our research. Unlike the Raven, we do not rush headlong into disaster… That is why we have survived for so long and why he has gone from one fatality to another.” SuMa growled at Kamari, wondering whether she was aware of the circumstances of the deaths in Knox family. His father, his mother. Even charlotte, one of the women Knox once loved. “But to answer your question. We see a facade. A front of happiness held up by a man hanging onto his sanity by a thread. I see two victims drawn in by a charismatic fraud. And we see a future of pain and misery for everyone involved. You should have held the Raven back. You have enough issues with the Kazoka and your own pasts. You are beyond redemption now. The Raven won’t stop escalating. He will pursue his obsession until he dies. He cannot win against us or Bane. If you care for him… make him back out. Or you will bury him and raise the child on your own. We marked you Kamari. The Raven will know what that scar means.” He spoke as he began to pull off the leather mask that hides his face, showing the extent of the damage his years of violence have wrought. He puts his finger on the red scar that goes from his mouth up his cheek, with one identical on the other side. “This is our mark Kamari. And now you carry a similar one… And so will she” He grabbed Aimi again, this time yanking her by the shoulder and with a rapid motion slashing her across the face, leaving a deep cut identical to the one he inflicted on Kamari, just on the opposite cheek. “There. Now you truly are alike. Both claimed by the Raven. Both nurturing the doom of the future… and both marked by the devil the Raven unleashed.” He began laughing out loud as he backed up, enjoying his own handiwork. “Do you have any more comebacks Kamari? Or did we make our point?”

Now it was Kamari’s turn to rush to Aimi, checking on her for a second before looking back up at him, a snarl escaping from her. “This.. this is not the first time I’ve been marked for my fate, probably won’t be the last.. I told you to leave her out of it though. But of course you would never cater to reason or emotion. It’s fine. Soon enough we’ll all burn. I just hope I make it to see yours to completion. Now get out of this house. You’ve done what you set out to do.” She shifted her gaze back to Aimi, doing her best to calm the young woman who is seething as well now.

“We weren’t the one who pulled her into this. The Raven was. We merely made our point.” SuMa turned around, consciously making a point of turning his back to the women, showing no fear of retribution. “Give our message to the Raven. And remember… we can always be back. A war always has collateral damage… innocent victims. Do your best to not become that.” and with that one final threat the monster slipped out of the door, leaving the two women alone in the bedroom. He had fulfilled his goal, accomplished his mission. The ball was out of his hands and in their court.

And the sadistic beast relished the fallout to come. He was ready. The pieces were falling into place.

Oblivion awaited.

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Confrontation (offcam)

By the time SuMa made it back to the house owned by his sister, the building that held his lair within, the Raven had found out about his actions. And by that virtue, Jennifer also knew. When SuMa stepped in through the front door, the lithe woman known to wrestling world as Queen Machine was waiting. Her arms were crossed on her chest and the look on her face was one of unbridled fury. “What the fuck did you just do?” she spat the words at her brother, words dripping with venom.

“Sent a message.” was the simple response from the masked monster as he walked past the furious woman. Or tried to. Jenny stepped infront of him, staring upwards. Snarling at the woman, SuMa’s voice turned into a low hiss. “Move.”

“No.” came the defiant reply. Jenny had lived with the monster long enough to know just how far she could push him. Physical encounters between the two had happened in the past, but neither had gotten a true upper hand. They always had a similar course. He charged forward with strength and brute force, while she dodged and ducked, dancing around his attacks like a bullfighter. Even if one got an advantage, neither had ever pressed it. That was what she was relying on, the fact that somewhere deep inside the scarred monster still resided her brother. “You went way too far. Kamari isn’t signed to SCW. She’s pregnant for crying out loud. You can’t just go out of your way to threaten innocents.”

“Yes we can and we did.” SuMa responded in a cold matter-of-factly manner. “We warned the Raven. Multiple times. He didn’t heed the warning. So we followed up. We do not make idle threats.” He pushed Jenny aside and tried to step towards the basement door, only to have the lithe woman yank him by the hair, upsetting his balance for a moment. A growl emanated from his chest as he lunged forward and grabbed her by the throat. Or tried to as Jenny rolled away. “We don’t have the time for this now.” He grunted at her.

“Too damn bad big guy. Either you listen and talk to me, or we can go through this same old song and dance all over again. I’ve intentionally stayed out of your business, but now that you went for Kamari, that puts ME on the firing line. You really think Knox won’t take your actions as a justification to do the same thing?” Jenny responded, holding herself in a fighting stance, ready to react should the masked man lunge again. Her fury was justified, but it was tinged with legitimate fear. When SuMa and Knox first fought, Knox had actually abducted her and held her captive for a week trying to grill her for information. And since SuMa had gone for Kamari… It wasn’t hard to guess Knox might be entertaining ideas of going after her.

Despite Jenny’s clear fear, the masked monster was unfazed. “He won’t do anything. We didn’t just mark Kamari… we found out the Ravens dirty little secret.” That was said with amusement radiating from his normally cold voice. “He can’t afford it to be spilled out… it would ruin his carefully crafted image…”

Jenny stopped dead in her tracks, looking at SuMa with confusion. “Secret? What are you talking about?”

“The Raven has sown his seed further than just Kamari… There is another spawn of his developing. On a young girl…” The beast was enjoying this. His visit to Knox’ house had bore more fruit that he had expected. He had finally found the sword of damocles that he could hang above Knox’ head to keep him at bay until it was time to finish their battle. Being able to buy more than enough time to deal with Fenris and the rest of the Wolf’s Lair without Knox’ interference.

It took Jenny a few moments to digest the news, and then a wave of despair hit her. “Another one?” she asked, her voice quivering. For the longest time, ever since she realized the mental illness that permeated their bloodline, one that afflicted both SuMa and herself, she had hoped that it would die with them. But the revelation that Knox was their cousin had brought new fear into her. When she got to know Knox, she found out he had two children. Hope, who was adopted and Sylvie, who wasn’t. She had helped Knox to curtail Sylvie’s affliction and had hoped it would not blossom. But after that, while she was in the midst of her own downward spiral she had only recently culled… She found out about Victoria Strader, a result of Knox’ misstep in his youth… and then the child with Kamari. She had thought that was the extent of it. But now there was another one? The despair returned to fury. This time aimed at Knox. “... He just can’t keep it in his pants can he?” She let out a groan of frustration and punched a wall. “HE SHOULD KNOW BETTER!”

Jenny’s outburst only increased SuMa’s amusement. He knew that Jenny was a potential ally for Knox against him, depending on her own mental state. But revelations such as this pushed her further away from him. One of SuMa’s goals was to drive a wedge between Knox and everyone who cared about him. To leave the Raven standing alone. Threats. Manipulation. Violence. Those were all tools he was willing and able to use to reach his goal. And he was slowly succeeding. He had gone as far as joining forces with Cam Roth, who Knox also waged a war with, who had seduced Hope, Knox’ eldest daughter. Just for the sake of isolating the Raven further. Not to mention joining forces with Victoria Strater. Or Veronica as she now called herself, in TPW. He said nothing as Jenny kept processing the issue. Merely smiled that unsettling, disfigured smile of his.

“Mac won’t like it anyway. You should know that. He’ll blow his lid when he hears what you did.” The woman had finally calmed down and begun to think logically again. “This stunt you pulled big guy… it might end with the Saviours turning against you.” She looked at him, trying to get the monster to understand the implication.

“That is of no matter.” He shrugged it off. “Bane was well aware of what he signed up for when he invited us to join him. He will end up thanking us once we deal with the Wolf’s Lair and leave the Raven broken and alone. Bane should understand that in war… anything goes.” SuMa stared Jenny down. “Are you finished? Can we go about our way now?” The question was dripping in sarcastic pleasantry.

“You are playing a dangerous game, big guy. Very dangerous. You should just leave Knox alone, focus on the threat infront of you. Fenris is no pushover. And his group has earned its reputation. You risk over-extending yourself. Especially if you end up provoking Mac and the others.” Jenny decided to change her approach, trying to appeal to the logical side of the monster. “You are just one man, big guy. You can’t be everywhere at once. No matter how strong you are… You will end up losing to the numbers game if you get all of them on your tail.”

To her words, SuMa merely responded by moving towards the basement, opening the door and glancing over his shoulder. “Let them come. Before they take us on… they will have to decide amongst themselves… who sacrifices their life for the greater good.”

And with that, the sturdy steel door slams shut behind the monster, leaving Jenny shaking her head in his wake. “I hope you know what you’re doing big guy… monster or not… you’re family”

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The Monster and the Mutt (oncam)

We open to a view of the City of Reno  from above as the 6’ 9’’ 360lbs masked monster known as Supreme Machine once again stands atop a tall building, staring down into the hustle and bustle of the biggest little city in the world deep in thought. SuMa had been residing in Reno ever since he resurfaced after his years of slumber, the house that he called home located in the suburbs of the city. So the sight he was staring down to was a familiar one. The camera, that seemed to be mounted on a drone again pans beyond the edge of the building to shoot him from the front and with a small movement of his eyes, he locks his gaze on the lens and begins to speak in his trademark deep, gravelly voice.

“Long weeks have passed… but the time is finally here. The time to put down a mangy mutt. The so-called White Wolf is finally going to stand across the ring from us. Weeks and weeks of attacks and taunts culminate in one clash.”

With his black, coal-like eyes seemingly staring right through the viewer, partly obscured by the greasy hair that always cascaded down to his face, SuMa knew how to demand the attention of everyone watching without making a show of it. The way that his entire body save for his mouth remained completely still as he spoke was eerie, almost sending him into the uncanny valley territory. There was always something almost inhuman in the way he acted and spoke… and looked.

“Unfortunately for the Mutt… It will be his downfall. For weeks now he has trumpeted his greatness, claiming that we are of no challenge to him. Too arrogant to understand the threat we present. The only reason those he holds dear have remained unscathed is because we chose to stay our hand… For the interest of the big picture. We stayed our hand because we didn’t need to push further. Our mere presence in the ring, standing above Bea Barnhart was enough to draw you out the first time. We didn’t need to go further. We annihilated your protege Kasey in short order… we forced your lover to resort to cheap tricks to escape us. Will you take his path Mutt? Will you resort to trickery to survive, and then boast of your greatness? We hope not. That would cheapen the sacrifice made by those who have stood in the path of the Saviors. It would besmirch the reputation of the Wolf’s Lair.”

The camera pulls back and SuMa straightens up, the flickering neon lights casting dancing shadows on his bare torso that was visible from under his open coat. The air around him was freezing, but he showed no signs of being bothered by it. Finally breaking eyecontact with the lens by swiping his hair off his face, SuMa turns to stare into the nothingness of the night sky, slightly adjusting the worn leather mask that covered his disfigured face almost absentmindedly as he continued his monologue.

“Then again… maybe that is what you are planning to do, Mutt. Act in a way that leaves Wolf’s Lair unworthy of being considered a threat to the Saviors. Maybe your whole gameplan is to resort to underhanded tactics and cheat a victory so you can move on with your career. We hope not. We hope that we have stoked enough of a fire within that  you will come at us with your full force and do everything in your power to strike us down. Because then and only then will it be worth the effort of putting you down like the mangy dog you are. You call yourself the white wolf. Well at Inception V your pristine fur will be stained red by your own blood. The rules tie our hands somewhat… but not as much as you are hoping. We have spent our entire existence fighting under restrictions. We might be a force known for Hardocre and Deathmatch wrestling… but we are so much more. You have a history in mixed martial arts, that is what we have been told. They will be of no help to you once the bell rings.”

What made everything he said all the more creepier was the total lack of emotion in his voice. While he did exhibit emotion at times, his ability to completely shut it down was unsettling. When he spoke of all the awful things he was going to do in that steady, monotone voice, the moniker “machine” seemed very fitting. Even when he laughed, like he did at the end of his last sentence… It was a cold, flat laugh. And when he smiled, it never reached his eyes. Like a mannequin painted to appear happy.

“You can try to make us submit all you want, Mutt. It is futile. No matter what you attempt… it will ultimately boil down to a fight. You might have fought big men in the past like Casey Williams. You might think you know what you are in for. You have no idea. We are like nothing you have fought before. You are blinded by what you see. Our size is only part of our might… Yet it is the one everyone fixates on. Those who seek to chop us down to size find themselves shocked when we carry on despite their attacks. Our skin is marked by hundreds of battles… there is no attack, no level of pain… no injury that slows us down. You will have to dig deep, Mutt… as deep as you can… to find the strength to survive our onslaught. Much less overcome it. If you plan on fighting us straight up… you better make sure your affairs are in order. Inception will be the final statement of intent by the Saviors. We will leave you broken and bloodied on the mat to serve as a warning for anyone who wishes to oppose us. You, White Wolf. Fenris. Mutt. You will be the martyr who those that come afterwards will invoke when in need of strength. Like the carpenter from Nazareth… Your mangled carcass will be displayed for all the world to see and the weak will look at it, and hold it dear when their time comes.”

SuMa turned to face the camera again, cocking his head slowly from left to right. It was another of his trademark motions. But as he continues to speak, there is a change. Flavor enters his voice as his cadence begins to rise like a concerto reaching its crescendo. He is not shouting, not even raising his voice, but the intensity changes drastically.

“You have no idea what you have provoked Mutt. Neither does anyone in Sin City Wrestling. When Bane asked for our assistance in his quest to dominate SCW… He came to us because he knew we are capable of feats nobody else is. We are willing to do deeds nobody else is. Our name spreads fear across the world of wrestling for a reason. We have reigned as champion everywhere we have gone for a reason. SCW will be no different. It is just a matter of time until we etch our name into the annals of yet another promotion. Not because we lust for gold… but because we are such a force that no promoter is stupid enough to overlook us. And that is something you clearly do not understand. You see the way we look and shrug us off as just another dumb brute. It will be part of your failure. Infact we welcome that branding. Because it makes it so much more enjoyable to see the face of a man who sold us short, see their face as the realization hits, the revelation of just how wrong they were. See Mutt… we don’t enjoy breaking our prey just physically no… any fool can destroy the body of a man. No. We take extra pleasure from tearing down our foe mentally. Breaking the mind of a once proud and strong man, seeing the despair in their eyes… that is the ultimate prize. Not some lump of metal attached to a leather strap. Not a pinfall in some grandiose event. No. The greatest victory is the utter defeat of a man. Mentally and physically. And that is what you will be facing Fenris.”

A menacing snarl of a chuckle escapes his mangled lips. The stoic machine slowly morphing into a living, breathing monster as he continues to profess his manifesto. His body language becomes more animated. As he emphasizes his words with small gestures and motions.

“So come to Inception V ready to fight. Ready to push yourself to the very limit. Nothing less and your story ends in that ring. We don’t need weapons to put you out of your misery. The human body is riddled with weak spots that are easy to exploit. Be ready to face your worst nightmare… if you wish to survive. If there is one thing you should understand Fenris… one thing you should take note and etch into the deepest parts of your mind… it is that we do not operate within the rules of society. We have no qualms about stepping over lines that should be left uncrossed. And whatever repercussions our actions might have… we have always accepted. So that is what you are up against Fenris. And once we are through with you… so is the entirety of the SCW roster. You are the first line of defense. Your fall will begin the chain reaction that will bring down the entire house of cards. And in six months… You will be forgotten.”

SuMa pauses completely, nothing but the wind howling in the night. He even stops moving. Standing still like a statue against the neon lights of the city below. Then in one quick motion he pulls the mask off his face to reveal the damage that he had accrued over the years, the broken nose, the mangled lips, the bright red scars that cut through both of his cheeks. And those dead eyes staring a hole through the lense once again. And then… spoke as barely a whisper. One last sentence. Not a threat. But a statement. Made with absolute certainty.

“Just another body laid to rest in our path of destruction.”

And abruptly as if cut with a knife, the feed goes dead.

Saviour (offcam)

It was night, the temperature had dropped just below freezing and thus the streets were empty. Save for a single figure who stalked the shadows, moving unseen from one to the other. It was Supreme Machine who was on his usual nightly stroll. His usually bare torso was hidden inside a worn hoodie with the hood pulled down deep to hide his face from the slightest light. Like a predator he stalked the alleyways and corners of the city, constantly on the lookout for something.

“You’ll come up emptyhanded tonight… there isn’t anyone out. Let’s just go home” spoke the subdued voice of Tom. He tried to keep relief out of his voice as he did, since he didn’t want SuMa to keep hunting just to spite him.

“Don’t be so sure weakling… we aren’t the only hunters in the night” the beast replied, his instincts telling him that they weren’t alone. He stopped to listen and a smile spread to the scarred lips of his. “Hear that?”

SuMa began to travel with intent, having located something of interest and after a few corners let out a low chuckle. “Interesting…” he muttered as he saw a gang of 4 men stalking a lone woman. The woman looked like she had spent the evening clubbing, dressed far too skimpily for the prevailing weather, and was clearly impaired by alcohol. The gang of thugs also noticed this and it wasn’t hard to predict where this would lead up. The woman took a turn to an alleyway, not realizing it’s a dead end and the thugs followed her in, with SuMa silently following, staying unseen in the shadows as the scene infront of him unfolded.

The gang began to corner the woman who realized she had nowhere to escape, starting to scream only to be shut down by one of the men swatting her across the face, dropping her to the ground. As the men advanced on the defenseless woman, Tom couldn’t take it anymore. “You gotta go help her.”

A sarcastic, low chuckle followed that statement. “Oh? And why is that?” he responded to Tom. “This is just survival of the fittest in progress… just the way it should be.”

Tom felt powerless, but desperately racked his brain to find a justification to get SuMa to interfere in the disgusting event unfolding before their eyes. “Because it is the right thing to do!” He exclaimed, words that only elicited a deep laugh from the beast, but before SuMa could respond Tom continued. “And because those men won’t take kindly to being interrupted and you’ll get your fight…”

SuMa paused to mull over Tom’s words. “Maybe this will be a lesson to you then…” he muttered and took three quick steps deeper into the alleyway and piped up. “How about you pick on someone your own size”

The thugs turned around in unison, staring at the interloper. “You don’t want nothing to do with this man. Turn around and leave if you value your life” Said the biggest one of them, brandishing a knife. It was obvious he was the leader of the group, the Alpha.

“You are nothing but a bunch of mutts, preying on the weak. Pathetic excuses of men.” SuMa goaded the group, a small grin spreading on his lips as he saw the anger flash in the eyes of the leader.

“Boys, I think this fucker wants a lesson. The bitch ain’t goin anywhere anyway.” The leader hollered and all four began to circle SuMa. The 6’9’’ mountain of a man showed no signs of intimidation or acknowledgement, keeping his eyes locked at the leader. The leaders eyes shifted to SuMa’s right for a split second, which was enough of a sign for him to know thats where the first attack came.

SuMa sidestepped a lunge from the man on his right, using his left hand to give the attacker more momentum and sending him crashing head first into the brick wall. Without interrupting his motion he spun around and landed a heavy haymaker on the face of the man who had circled behind him, breaking his nose and sending him to the ground with blood spurting from the shattered appendage. SuMa took a step back and repositioned so both of the two remaining thugs were within his field of vision. “Pathetic.” he repeated his earlier statement, standing with his arms hanging to his sides.

His arrogant lack of fighting posture infuriated the leader. “Who the fuck do you think you are freak? You got lucky there. Let’s see if your luck holds out” the leader yelled at SuMa, while the remaining goon grabbed a metal pipe from the ground, advancing on SuMa in lockstep with the leader. The two men looked at each other and the pipe-wielding goon charged forward, swinging for the fences, aiming at the side of SuMa’s head. The monster blocked the hit with his forearm, barely registering the sharp jolt of pain that shot up his arm. With a quick flick he grabbed the pipe out of the goons hands and slammed it downwards on the collarbone, a sickening crunch echoing in the alleyway as the goon dropped like an empty sack.

The leader looked at his downed men, his survival instinct trying to kick in. But the whole situation had wounded his pride too much. He couldn’t back down. “I’m gonna kill you for that.” He growled at SuMa, the knife in his hand aimed squarely at him. SuMa sized him up, making note how unlike the goons the leader clearly had some experience at fights. His stance and his movements were measured and confident even in his angry state. And to top it all off he was a lot bigger than the goons.

Having absorbed all this information SuMa chuckled. “We hope you aren’t as much of a disappointment as they were…” his words were like a slap to the leaders face, the insult to his men was a straight insult to him. But to his credit, the leader maintained his composure and began to circle SuMa, waiting for the big man to make the first move. SuMa didn’t though. He was merely keeping him infront of him, goading the leader to strike first with his inaction. Eventually it worked and the leader rushed forward, throwing a punch at SuMa’s head with he blocked with ease. That was only a distraction though, as at the same time the knife flashed in the night and sliced through the monsters clothing, cutting a gash on his side. The leader let out a victorious cry, but it was cut short as SuMa moved with deceptive speed, grabbing him by the throat, lifting him in the air and slamming him into a wall, holding him there.

“Impressive.” SuMa whispered to the leaders face, staring him down. The pain on his side was throbbing, but he didn’t let it distract him. “It’s been a while since someone wounded us. Too bad you won’t be able to enjoy your victory.” His voice was completely calm as he said that, slowly squeezing the leaders airways shut.

“Wh...what are you??” The leader managed to squeak as SuMa momentarily eased his hold. Fear filled his eyes as he realized that he was completely powerless to stop the big man. His legs kicked in the air and he desperately clawed at the massive arm holding him in place.

“Your worst nightmare” SuMa responded with a sinister chuckle and squeezed harder, watching as consciousness fled the mans eyes. He finally let the leader drop to the ground, watching as air rushed back into his lungs. He was unconscious, not dead. With a quick scan of his surroundings SuMa confirmed that all 4 men were still breathing. He didn’t need a murder investigation distracting him. SuMa was about to walk off when he heard a whimper and remembered the woman that was the start of the whole event.

He slowly moved towards the woman, who was still hunched over on the ground, her clothes torn by the goons and a black mark forming on her cheek from the blow she absorbed earlier. SuMa crouched next to her, his massive frame still dwarfing the petite woman. The woman looked up to him, her expression a mixture of relief and worry. “Th...thank you…” she whispered weakly.

As SuMa remained still, watching her, her expression began to change. Fear crept back into her eyes as her “savior” said nothing. Slowly with measured movements SuMa reached up and began pulling the hood off his head, revealing his disfigured face to the woman. She gasped at the sight, pressing against the brick wall she leant against to get away from SuMa. Slowly the man reached over and grabbed her by the jaw, turning her head so their eyes met. The cold, black eyes of the monster freezing the woman in place like a deer in headlights and he could feel her whole body trembling. “Run” SuMa muttered a single word to her as he stood up, and as if a spell was broken, the woman took off, sprinting into the night with tears streaming down her cheeks.

SuMa watched her go, pulling his hood back over his face and began walking away. “See that weakling? Even when we are a saviour… we are feared. The mere sight of our face terrified her more than the whole ordeal.” he spoke to his other half with condescension in his voice. “Even if we let you back in control… we would still be the monster.”

Tom had difficulty responding, as the pain that SuMa was ignoring in his forearm and side was affecting him heavily. “Doesn’t… matter… you… saved… her…” He managed to gasp out.

“And those men we hurt deserved it right?” SuMa responded, still maintaining that condescending tone.”

“Yeah.. they… did…” the belabored words came out, the pain making it difficult for Tom to understand what SuMa was going for.

“Good and evil are subjective weakling… On the surface we did a good deed… but who knows. Maybe that woman was just like our dear sister… someone with a path just as bloody behind her as we do. Maybe we could’ve saved lives by letting those men break her. Or maybe now that those men are broken there will be a power vacuum and a turf war, leading to more innocents being hurt. You never know. Yet you take one glance at a situation, make assumptions and assign labels. You are a fool. You would act without having all the information on just surface knowledge. Sentimentality and emotional responses cause more harm than good… That is why you are the weakling.” SuMa lectured his other half, almost enjoying the anguish he was inflicting upon him.

“You… made your… point…” Tom’s words were subdued. What he had perceived as a win over his monstrous half had been flipped completely around on him. He could argue his view further, but he knew SuMa was in his twisted way, right. “Is that why you joined Bane? You used the term he does… Savior…”

“So you aren’t as stupid as you seem… Yes. He is inciting a turf war… our presence will make it a shorter struggle. Those resisting him will be crushed faster with us by his side.”

“What about good and evil though? That whole lecture about not knowing the ramifications?”

A full on laughter erupted from SuMa, which echoed eerily in the winter night. “We never tried to claim we are good… You did.”

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The War (offcam)

The incident of the previous night forgotten, SuMa had been spending most of his time in the basement of his sister's house, an arrangement of convenience for both. It was just another day for the masked monster as he rested on the furthest corner of the room, seated on the floor with his back leaned against the concrete wall.

“A fine… what a joke” He mumbled with that low, gravelly voice he was known for. A tinge of amusement could be heard, even if it was all so slight. The events of Climax Control had caused a slight uproar amongst those that opposed Mac Bane and his new group that SuMa was part of. But the masked monster cared little of it. “They should be thankful we had restraint and didn’t leave the ring littered with broken bodies…”

“SCW is not like the other promotions you’ve worked for… They are quite clear in their rules.” came a response from the suppressed personality of Tom. The contrast on the way the two spoke was almost jarring, with Tom’s soft, kind voice being a stark contrast of SuMa’s gravelly bass.

SuMa responded with a malicious chuckle. “Rules… You should know by now that we don’t care about the rules. They want to fine us? Let them. It won’t stop us from doing whatever we want.”

“Are you sure you want to push too far though? With Dom and Mac falling short you haven’t exactly gotten the start you thought you would…” Tom knew he was treading on thin ice, something that he always was when he questioned the beast.

“That is irrelevant weakling… Despite those “losses” we have left an impression that won’t be forgotten anytime soon. It’s about the war… not the singular battles. It might even work in our favor… leading those who wish to oppose us to be lulled into a false sense of security…  Make them underestimate us… Make them cocky.” The Beast’s voice was tinged with excitement. He always enjoyed the hunt, playing the long game with his prey. Giving an inch to gain a mile down the line. For SuMa, it was more than just the thrill of the proverbial kill. It was the process, the journey.

Tom was silent for a while, pondering whether he should bring up the last point he noticed. Being an observer in a body he had no control over, he often picked up small things the often tunnel-visioned SuMa did not. But he wasn’t sure if he wanted to approach this particular topic as it was one of the few things that could cause actual anger in the beast that had pushed him aside. And for the moment he decided that it was better to remain silent.

Sadly for Tom, SuMa sensed his apprehension and like a shark smelling blood bounced on in. “Spit it out weakling. We know you are hiding something. That is… unwise” SuMa muttered with a sinister tone. And Tom knew he had no choice but to acquiesce, since if he didn’t, the beast would just start hurting himself, a process that hurt Tom more than the dominant personality. A quirk in their dynamic that was often abused.

“Fine. Knox has come to SCW. And judging by his tweets… he’s gonna make a beeline to Mac. And if he goes for Mac…” Tom let the end of that sentence trail off since he knew the beast would pick up on what he’s inferring.

“He’ll have to go through us…” SuMa finished the thought. The war between Matthew “The Raven” Knox and Supreme Machine had raged early on the year, and despite their clash ending with a definite win, the conflict wasn’t over. It had entered into a state of a cold war, with various factors deepening the hatred between the two. They had been giving each other a wide berth since, mostly due to Jenny’s insistence. And the sister of the masked monster had insisted on that because it had turned out that they were of kin. Sharing the same bloodline. And the family curse that came along.

Yet, both men had always known that a rematch was inevitable. Knox suffered from a pathological hero complex, seeing villains to vanquish and victims to save everywhere he looked. And for someone like that, SuMa was irresistible. A beast to slay. And now their collision course was drawing closer and closer. Yet, in SuMa’s mind Knox was no more than a distraction, a sidetrack on a path laid out. He looked forward to the battle, but it wasn’t on the forefront of his mind. He’d deal with it when the time came. And finish it once and for all.

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Path of Destruction (oncam)[/b]

The view opens up to show the 6’9’’ 360lbs frame of Supreme Machine standing on top of a skyscraper in the twilight hours of the night. He is dressed in usual getup, a pair of black jeans and black combat boots covering his tree trunk-like legs while an old worn hoodie hides his upper body from the world. He is staring into the distance, his breath creating a cloud of mist in the cold winter air. Without turning to look at the camera he speaks up, his growl-like voice coming in as barely a whisper, almost drowned out by the sound of life from below.

“Watching the fallout from Climax Control has had us amused. Why would we do that? How could we? It is always entertaining to watch as the cattle attempts to rationalize the acts of a predator…”

A short silence follows before SuMa turns around to face the camera, pulling the hood down with measured moves. A bead of sweat has frozen on his temple and the greasy black mane that often hides his face hangs stiff from the cold. He slowly cocks his head to the left, the cold, dead stare of his black eyes unrelenting.

“But let us enlighten you… Why did we do it? Why did we take the time to go in and intimidate a woman like Bea Barnhart? Because we wanted to. Because the look of fear in the eyes of the prey when they realize they have no place to run and no place to hide… when they realize they are at our mercy… is so enjoyable to us. And not only that… we did it to make sure everyone understood that if you step in our path… nobody is safe. Anyone who wishes to oppose us or any of our allies must understand that there is no line we won’t cross… No deed beneath us. This is a war. And in war… collateral damage is inevitable.”

SuMa lets the last few words hang in the air to underline the severity of his threat. He slowly wipes the frozen strands of hair from his face to reveal the leather mask that hides his disfigured features below. Just as the silence was about to become oppressive he let out a sinister chuckle and continued.

“We can already hear the indignant gasps. The calls of cowardice. We don’t care. The Apex Predator gives no weight to the opinion of the prey. Our path to the top is set. And anyone who thinks they can stand up to us must consider the cost of doing so. We know everyone who comes into this business is ready, willing and able to sacrifice their own well being for glory and honor… But very few are willing to put those they care about on the line. That is a weakness we have no qualms about abusing. We make the battle as personal as possible to make sure that our foe understands the cost of defeat… and thus fights with all their might. That makes the battle so much more intense and enjoyable for us. Forcing them to spend every last drop of energy in resisting us… until there is nothing left but a broken husk of a man. A man who goes down knowing that everything they hold dear was on the line and they failed. It is not just about physical destruction… a physical defeat is fleeting, physical wounds heal. Bones mend and blood dries. But to break them mentally leaves marks that can never heal. It is a total victory.”

Turning his back to the camera and staring at the hustle and bustle below, SuMa continued his monologue, sounding amused at times and almost as if he was preaching on others.

“But to our joy there are always those willing to risk it all to fight us. Fenris threw himself on the firing line. We admire his courage. But it was for naught. What we did to him at the end of Climax Control was merely an appetizer, a preview of our true might. We would have preferred finishing the job at Climax Control 318. But it was not to be...  It makes no difference though. The man they sent against us will serve his purpose all the same. Milo Kasey will act as another warning, another example of the fate of those who stand against us.”

He chuckles once again, turning around and walking off the edge of the building, the camera following him a few steps behind. A metal pipe on the roof reflects enough light to show that the camera is actually set up on a drone, explaining its motions. SuMa stops at the shadow of the concrete bunker that holds the entrance to the roof and sits down. The camera lowers as well, filming him head on as he sits there.

“We know little of him. And we do not even care to know more. For us he is irrelevant. Just another faceless lamb to the slaughter. His alignment, his loyalties, his allies and his abilities are of no consequence for us. No matter how talented or adept he is in the ring, he has never gone against someone like us. We know people take one look at us and file us away as a mindless brute or some sort of a b-movie monster… but we welcome that attitude. We relish their blindness. Underestimating us makes the moment they realize the depth of their mistake all the more euphoric. And we know many of you are already muttering to yourselves how we are no better, how we are simply overlooking Kasey… and you couldn’t be further from the truth. Our attitude, our mentality stems from experience. We have traveled far and wide, our path of destruction has cut a swath through companies all over the country and the world. Everywhere we have gone we have stood atop the pile as the most dominant, most violent and most devastating force. We have learned to see our enemies strengths and weaknesses at a glance. We need but to take one look at our foe to determine their worth and Milo Kasey has none.”

He pulls the hood back over his face and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was just a hobo squatting for shelter, hunched over on the ground in worn and torn clothes. You couldn’t help but to think it was intentional. A camouflage to hide his true nature.

“But don’t take our word for it. At Climax Control 318 we will make it painfully clear just how ill-equipped Milo Kasey is to challenge us. And whatever his allies in the so called “Wolf's Lair” or whatever try to pull… It won’t help him. We are an army of one. A force of nature. Treat us as merely a man at your own peril. The end result of the upcoming battle has already been decided. When the dust settles we will stand triumphant and Milo Kasey will lay broken at our feet. And so shall all others who step up to try and challenge us.”

SuMa raises his gaze just enough to meet the lens head on, his piercing stare front and center as he speaks one more time.

“The Path of Destruction cannot be stopped.”

The way he said it was more a statement than anything else. Not a threat, not a brag. A matter-of-fact statement of reality. And after saying it, SuMa merely stared as the view faded to black.