Symbiosis (offcam)
There was silence in the darkened basement that Supreme Machine spent his days in when not up and about, spreading mayhem in his path in the wrestling business. The man who was once known as Thomas Rivers had long since abandoned any pretense of fitting into normal society, his scarred body and the monstrous split personality that had shoved the kind and good-natured Tom aside making him an outcast even in the eyes of the most tolerant and understanding. But SuMa did not care. Ever since that one night 15 years ago that he reached his breaking point and allowed the monster within to break loose all he had cared about was inflicting as much pain and destruction to those who crossed his path.
But within the mind of a monster the original personality still existed. SuMa and Tom lived in symbiosis. One could not exist without the other, the ultimate control of their actions having shifted one way and other other over the years, even settling on an uneasy truce at times. But for the most case, the monster reigned and the man suffered.
In essence, SuMa was the amalgamation of all the darker sides of human personality. Arrogant and merciless, cold and detached. SuMa saw others as nothing more than prey. Victims to assert his sadistic will on. But despite his size and bloodthirst, he was no mindless brute. SuMa was a calculating force of nature. He sought out the most dangerous men and women to target and relished in breaking those who thought could oppose him both mentally and physically.
All the while Tom watched as his own body committed all these heinous acts of violence, helpless to intervene outside of very, very few moments and even when he did manage to wrest control from the monster, it was fleeting at best. When SuMa wasn’t hunting for his next prey, he was here, in the basement of the house owned by the one person he tolerated enough to coexist with, his sister Jennifer Rivers, known to the wrestling world as either Queen Machine, “The Queen” Jennifer Stryfe or simply Jenny or Queenie. And when SuMa wasn’t on the hunt, he passed his days by tormenting Tom, who he never referred to by name but as “The Weakling”.
SuMa knew that Tom found his actions disgusting and never passed up a chance to lord that fact over him. But his torment wasn’t merely psychological. Pain was a sensation SuMa didn’t really feel, but Tom felt it tenfold. So whenever they were hit or cut or bruised, Tom was in agony while SuMa at best felt discomfort. This worked in the monsters favor exponentially as he could push their body to its physical limits without having to worry about being miserable, and the effects of his actions rendered the weakling so exhausted that it couldn’t put up a fight.
But today the routine was broken as the doorway to the basement was cracked open and light steps came down to the darkness. Seated in the far corner, slumped down with his arms resting on his knees, SuMa observed the one person who dared to come down. “What do you want…” He growled, his gruff voice echoing from the bare concrete walls.
“Just checking on you big guy. Making sure there isn’t suddenly a third guy in that head of yours.” Came the response from Jenny, the lithe woman instantly homing in on SuMa’s location. For over a decade the two had been locked in a tense armistice, SuMa tolerating her presence and Jenny doing her level best help Tom get free from the clutches of the monster. But it all changed when Jenny herself began having issues within her head, leading to the manifestation of “Queenie”. It had been a shock to both, when they realized that whatever it was that afflicted SuMa was hereditary. A trait that also plagued their cousin Matthew “The Raven” Knox and his offspring. The dynamic between the siblings had shifted completely after Queenie made her presence known, as unlike Jenny, Queenie was not afraid of SuMa. While Jenny treated her brother like a coiled up Rattlesnake, carefully maneuvering around him and looking for ways to affect him without provoking an attack, Queenie treated him like she was a matador dancing around a raging bull. She poked and prodded and provoked and teased, dodging and ducking when SuMa inevitably lashed out.
If SuMa embodied Mayhem and Destruction, she was the personification of Anarchy and Chaos. And at the best of times it was an explosive combination. SuMa watched as Queenie made her way through the basement and squatted next to him, giggling like a little girl as she reached over to poke the big man. “C’mon, don’t be sour. I’m just intrigued what has happened, I heard that not only did you join SCW, but you even made some friends while at it! So I came to check what was going on since I can’t remember the last time I saw you playing nice with others”
SuMa gave no visible reaction to her poking, merely stared at her from behind the veil that his greasy black mane created as it cascaded down his face. He patiently waited for Queenie to get the childishness out of her system, a small smile creeping to his lips as the paint-faced woman finally let out a sigh of frustration and dropped down to the ground, mimicking SuMa’s posture. “You’re no fun, Big guy. I go through all the trouble to come down here and you won’t even respond to me”
“Why should we? SCW is none of your concern.” He finally responded curtly, his voice a low growl.
“Can’t a girl be interested in what his big bro is up to? Besides. You know I have history with the prettier half of your new bestie Bane.” She shrugged. Her voice was bright and cheery, but SuMa knew she was merely masking the worry and uncertainty he knew she felt. He could read her like an open book.
“We don’t care whatever squabble you have with Bane’s wife. He earned our respect when we fought in OCW and when he invited us to join him as he plans to take over SCW… We saw no reason to turn him down. We had exhausted our options of worthy prey elsewhere. SCW is a fresh hunting ground, and with Bane and the others by our side we are able to attract challengers beyond what any other place can offer.” The whole sentence was spoken in a condescending voice, as if SuMa thought it was painfully obvious. Which to him it was to be fair. And the tone didn’t escape Queenie either.
“Oh ain’t that swell. The big bad monster Supreme Machine who hasn’t played nice with anyone since the days of EWC and Gods Among Men suddenly decides he feels like being part of a stable again. That just makes sense and should raise no further questions! I’m a total idiot aren’t I?” She responded with sarcasm dripping in her voice. “Sometimes I wonder why I even bother with you big guy. I could just padlock that damn door, pack my bags and leave. And honestly? When you’re being a dick like this, I start running out of arguments to not do just that.”
“You won’t.” SuMa merely dismissed her outburst nonchalantly.
This coaxed a frustrated groan out of Queenie as the woman leant forward to stare right into SuMa’s black, coal-like eyes. “And why would that be?” Her question was asked with barely restrained anger.
“You like being able to parade us as the ultimate solution. Don’t think we haven’t seen it. No matter how successful or feared you become… You take solace on the fact that if things go south you can always dangle us as a threat. Just like when you failed to take out Covington at Levelup and called on us for backup. You need us… more than we need you” SuMa stood up to stare down at the woman. With well over a foot of height difference the monster towered over the lithe woman who, regardless, showed no signs of intimidation. The words of her brother had lit a fire in her.
“If it wasn’t for me you’d still be a forgotten chapter in wrestling history. Don’t forget I dragged you out of your exile and sent you back into the ring. Don’t forget all the strings I’ve had to pull to keep you out of prison or worse, a fucking mental asylum where you belong. If it wasn’t for me you’d still be in a goddamn straitjacket in a padded cell. But if this is how you want to play this brother dearest, then so be it. I’ll leave you alone.But on the flipside, don’t come crying to me when everything blows in your face and you find yourself on the run, having to answer for your crimes. It’s hard to hunt from behind bars you violent bastard.” surprisingly Queenie never raised her voice. She managed to maintain her calm through the entire speech, staring up to SuMa and maintaining eyecontact as she did. After saying her piece Queenie turned on her heels and left the basement without saying another word.
Silence fell on the room as SuMa sat down. Until a voice spoke up, a softer, gentler one. Tom. “She’s right you know.” Tom said, apprehension in his voice. Moments like this were the ones where he ended up hurt the most, questioning the monster. But Queenie was the only person in the world who could knock SuMa off-balance enough to let Tom get a word in edgewise.
And as so many times before, Tom’s words elicited a violent response as SuMa punched himself flush in the face. “Shut up weakling. Your input is neither needed or wanted.” But despite the physical retribution, SuMa’s reaction was more a routine than really one with a purpose. Queenie’s words had given him pause.
He had spent almost a year locked up in a mental hospital at one point. That period of time was the worst in the monsters memory as he was unable to act out on his desires and unable to silence Tom. But he was also right about Jenny. She needed him. When she managed to get him out of the asylum she had done so because she needed his abilities and capabilities to deal with problems in a straightforward and final manner. As much as SuMa might be trying to ignore the reality, so was she. They were in a symbiosis with each other just as much as they were with their respective splits.
“It doesn’t matter. We must focus on SCW and the path of destruction we will carve through their ranks. Everything else is now secondary” SuMa muttered to himself and leant back, staring at the ceiling in complete silence.
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Surrender… or Perish (oncam)
We open to a view of a dark room with a single dim spotlight in its middle, with the area outside the light completely shrouded. At first there is no movement or sound, until a deep, gravelly voice speaks out from the darkness.
“A brand new hunting ground. Normally that would fill us with anticipation. Normally we would relish the prospect of new prey to take down. But not this time. This time we are more focused. More determined. This time we have a purpose. For years we have drifted from company to company, seeking out the best they have to offer in a simple hunt for worthy prey, those who can give us a challenge. And the same pattern has kept repeating itself. We carve our way through the roster and end up reigning as the champion of the promotions hardcore or deathmatch or equivalent division, unable to be unseated by anyone. Until we grow bored of the lack of challenge and move on. Never have we been allowed to face the true top talent of a company as the promoters have felt the need to protect their stars from the destruction we leave in our path… A Smart business move but not conducive to our continued presence.”
Slowly a large figure walks into the light. It is the 6’9’’ 360lbs masked monster known as Supreme Machine. He turns to face the camera, his face hidden behind a cascading veil of black greasy hair. The dim light nearly hides the intricate web of scars that crisscross the visible areas of his torso, the rest hidden under a black sleeveless shirt that has seen better days. He keeps staring at the camera motionlessly, until he cocks his head slowly from side to side, without a single muscle in the rest of his body moving.
“This time it is different. This time we did not drift here. This time we came here with a purpose. We have been a lone wolf for so long we have almost forgotten the last time we worked as a unit with someone. And for a good reason. Last time we did so we joined forces with the very best present and future of this business. Men like the Dark Horse Jackson and Luther Thunder fought alongside us as we were the Gods Among Men. But now we finally found a group where we are amongst peers. Mac Bane earned our respect as we fought at OCW and when he asked us to join… we agreed. With Dominick Strife and Ken Davison we form the greatest force assembled in ages… and it all begins at Climax Control.”
The voice of the monster is strangely flat and stoic, there is barely any emotion that can be discerned from his speech. The whole situation seems unnerving as the entire time he has been visible there has been no motion whatsoever, as if you were staring at a still image instead of a video feed.
“We know there are those in SCW who do not know who we are. We are Supreme Machine. Our name sends chills up the spines of those who know it. For well over a decade we have carved a path of destruction wherever we have roamed. We are the Destruction Personified. Violence made Flesh. There is no line we are not willing to cross. No deed we consider too far. We do not care about fame or fortune or glory… we only care about breaking every single man who stands in our path. And now we have been unleashed onto SCW.”
Finally we see motion as SuMa whips his head back, flinging the hair off his face and giving us a good look at the worn leather mask that hides most of his facial features, with mostly his black, coal-like eyes attracting attention.
“At Climax Control we are facing Bill Barnhart and Senor Vinnie, two men we already made a statement on at High Stakes. We know very little about either… and we do not really care. Bane pointed us at a target and we took the chance to do what we do best. Barnhart already spoke his piece about us but we didn’t care enough to pay attention… We only caught the fact that he seemed to think outside interference was needed. It is not. For us to need outside assistance Barnhart… It would require you to be worthy prey. You are not. You are just the first sacrifice on the long line of sacrifices to come, just another faceless, nameless cattle sent to the slaughter. Our aims are higher. Our goals are higher. You do not matter. You are not relevant. You are not important. And at Climax Control we will make sure that point cannot be ignored”
He suddenly throws his hands to his sides into a crucifix-pose, tensing up every muscle in his body. With a quick glance you realize from the way his scarred skin tightens around the muscle that hides beneath that there is barely anything extra in his build.
“Some might think that because of our history of Hardcore and Deathmatch wrestling we are only dangerous when wielding a weapon. That could not be further from the truth. If that is what you take solace in, then you are in for a surprise… We are a lethal weapon by ourself. For well over a decade we have learned every way to break a man's body and spirit with our bare hands. Expertise that is unmatched. The only way you may survive unscated from Climax Control… is to roll over and play dead. Because the more you resist. The more you try to delay the inevitable, the more we are forced to break you. You and Vinnie are in a no-win scenario. Even if it was just us… you would have no chance of victory. But we are not alone. We have Strife providing backup. And he too is capable of taking you out by himself. It is just a matter of when, not if you fall down and stare at the lights… assuming you still are able to stare at anything.”
The first show of emotion comes suddenly, as SuMa lets out a hoarse chuckle.
“So come Climax Control the world of SCW will be introduced to a new force. One that cannot be stopped. One that cannot be resisted… and it will all start with us and Strife laying waste to Barnhart and Vinnie… and afterwards our message will be loud and clear. There is nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. A new era has begun... “
SuMa tilts his head upwards and lets out a bellowing laugh that is nothing like the earlier chuckle. But the laugh ends sharply, as if someone had muted the feed as he turns his gaze into the camera and whispers with an ominous tone.
“Surrender… or Perish”
With SuMa staring at the lens unmoving once again, the view fades to black.
