The fire that burns (offcam)[/u]
The story of the man now known as Supreme Machine is a long and tragic one. The masked, scarred beast who roams the earth today was not always so. And the story of how he became as he is today is one that only a few know at all and only one knows the full extent of. Before he was Supreme Machine, he was Thomas Rivers. A man often described as a teddy bear. Big and strong, but kind and patient. A young man with dreams of greatness and drive to succeed.
It is a story that often occupies the mind of Tom as he helplessly watches the destruction wrought by his hands. A story he returns to wondering if he could have done things differently, if he could have avoided becoming the monster he is today. Or whether it was all ordained, if his destiny was to be tormented by the evil that inhabits his body, if he was always meant to be just a passenger in a runaway truck causing pain and misery wherever he roamed.
Sometimes when the monster slept Tom had short periods of control. But he dared not travel far. The punishment that the monster levied on him left him in agony for days. Physical abuse and mental torment. It was a cruel twist on an already cruel situation that the monster could shut off pain causing it to reflect twofold on Tom. Yet those short moments of respite he often walked around just enjoying the peace. Wondering what could have been.
Yet he knew that it had been his own fault that the monster was unleashed. After he saw his sister go through a similar yet more subdued transformation from the smart and emphatic young woman she was into the cruel, manipulative and unpredictable Queenie he had dug through his memories and remembered days when their grandfather had suddenly changed into a different man, remembering the days their mother who had been taking care of their aging grandfather had suddenly appeared with bruises.
Tom had realized too late that the monster he had unleashed was a hereditary condition. A mental illness that permeated his bloodline. Jenny had argued different during her lucid moments, how it was a companion more than anything, a benign presence that guided and aided, how SuMa, the monster, was a perversion of that, a being corrupted by the pain and anguish Tom had fed it during his days in the wrestling business.
It was hard to believe. Hard to believe that what he had become could ever be benevolent or caring. Especially after seeing the struggles Thomas’ cousin and daughter of said cousin were going through.
See, that was the ultimate punch line in the joke that his existence under the thumb of the monster had become. The one person that had fought the monster to a standstill and survived to tell the tale was his cousin… afflicted by the same tainted blood that turned him into a monster.
Matthew “The Raven” Knox. SuMa and Knox had fought a bloody war that neither man walked out of unscathed. And since that day the two had been locked in a cold war not unlike the one between the Soviet Union and the USA. Both were waiting when the war went hot again.
After their war, when the monster was exhausted and resting, Tom had used his moment of control to speak to Knox. Tell him the truth about SuMa and himself. It changed little. Knox couldn’t see past the mask. And the battle had left a mark within the monster. A raging fire of hatred that burned deep within the otherwise cold and calculating beast. SuMa was never able to reconcile the fact that Knox bested him. For any other man the sheer intensity of their battle would have made any further desire for a rematch nonexistent. Any other man would have taken the fact that surviving getting set on fire, stabbed through the shoulder and thrown from a roof through a trailer as a badge of honor. Not SuMa. Tom knew it better than anyone. The logical sadist that SuMa was, lost all semblance of rationality when Knox was concerned.
And now he is in SCW. After months and months of giving each other a wide berth and downright avoiding a direct confrontation, Matt Knox has come to a place where SuMa roamed. And from his very first promo had made his intentions clear. To combat Mac Bane… and by extension, Supreme Machine. The ember that had kept the rivalry alive for so long was about to be relit… the cold war was about to be hot… the nuclear option was going to be selected.
The timing couldn’t be worse though. Tom knew it. He was certain Knox knew it too. SuMa was committed to the path laid out by Mac Bane. Dominating SCW. Taking out everyone and anyone who opposes them. The Wolfslair was the first one to fall. The battle with Fenris looming in the horizon. SuMa could not afford the distraction. And Knox must know it. The simmering hatred within the beast burned hotter and hotter.
Tom was afraid of what would happen when the inevitable happened. He knew that nobody would be safe… there would be collateral damage. Despite the disgust he felt at the violence and brutality SuMa was known for… he knew that there were lines the monster wouldn't cross. Those who became his prey would be hurt, even injured. But there wouldn’t be permanent damage, nothing irreversible. The monster was smart enough to realize that crossing certain barriers would make his hunting nigh-impossible.
A lesson he learned once years ago when he was locked in an insane asylum. There, in a padded cell, under constant watch he had been powerless, unable to act on his desires. If it hadn’t been for Jenny, their sister, needing his particular set of abilities and her resources, they would still be locked up in that cursed room.
But when it came to Knox… Tom feared the monster might lose its inhibitions. Might cross a line too far. The monster could take a loss in a match. Being pinned was not the end of the world for him. But Knox did more than that. Knox beat him at his own game. A brutal war with no rules and no limits and Knox not only weathered the storm but with his last gasp of strength got the win. That burned deep. That burned hot.
As weird as it sounded… Tom wanted SuMa to be able to just focus on being one of the Saviors. To take out Wolfslair and anyone else in their path. To stand atop the SCW mountain as its undisputable ruler. Because that would lead to less suffering. Fewer victims… less collateral damage. With Mac Banes goals it was just wrestling. Just business. A way for SuMa to assert his dominance amongst the greatest. With Knox… it was personal.
“Your musings are as tiresome as they are loud weakling” came a low growl. The beast was awake. “We will deal with the Raven when it is time. Until then we have more important things to address”
SuMa’s will was superior to Tom. He could not do anything else but to acquiesce. Just another day in the hell of his own making
—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Inevitable (oncam)
We open up to a view of a night sky, covered in clouds with rainfall gently splashing onto the lens. Next to the camera, staring up to the sky stands the 6’9’’ 360 pound man known as Supreme Machine. He is dressed in his usual pair of worn jeans, old combat boots and his upper body is hidden inside a hooded jacket, with the hood itself covering his face. For several moments he says nothing, only his deep breathing and the pitter patter of rain prove that you are not staring at a still picture. Finally SuMa turns his gaze to the camera and speaks in a low, gravelly voice tinged with menace.
“Weakness permeates through Sin City Wrestling. You need not look no further than the fact that despite his grand words… Hot Stuff cut our suspension short. He laid down the law and then balked on his words. This is one of the reasons SCW is in dire need of Saviors… To save it from its own complacency”
He pulls the hood down to reveal his masked face that is framed by the rapidly-wettening cascade of black mane. The monster doesn’t seem to care about the rain despite the old leather mask pressing against his face more and more as time passes. As he speaks, his voice remains low and calm, but there is something intangible in the gaze of his eyes, a silent malice.
“In just a few short weeks we have shaken the very foundation of SCW with our presence. The established order is quaking at its very core and those reliant on its continued existence are desperately trying to rally their troops. But the oncoming storm cannot be stopped. The inevitable cannot be denied nor delayed. Inception V draws near and with it our battle with Fenris where we will put the white wolf out of his misery for good. Yet before that we are faced by an unlikely challenger. The Shepherd. A man seeking to avenge his mate. A man preaching the gospel of hedonism and rejection of societal norms. A fool.”
SuMa lets out a short joyless chuckle. He moves his dripping wet hair off his face and continues his pathos.
“Shepherd… We can understand the primal reaction you felt when you saw us dominating the man who has claimed you as his. From the short research we did into you we saw someone desperate to make a mark in history. Being the face of a movement that spits in the face of society. A group seeking to provoke a negative reaction from the masses. You are nothing more than a charlatan Shepherd. You have devised your own truth in an effort to hide the pain you feel. The pain of irrelevance.”
His words dangle in the air for a few moments, underlining just how little he thinks of his opponent. His arrogance, his belief in his own superiority almost tangible.
“The core principle of any religion is the same. The weak looking for a higher power or a purpose to take solace in. Something to blame for their failures, something to make them matter in the world. And the strong using that desire to control the weak for their own ends. It doesn’t matter what you wrap it in… it is always the same. We despise religion. We despise the weak too pathetic to take control of their own destinies. We despise the strong who instead of taking action themselves, send their flocks into the grinder. We despise those who sit back and watch as their lackeys do all the work. And most of all we despise the self-important cults that twist common narratives to suit their own needs.”
The monsters normally emotionless voice gains a hard edge as he says this, it is obvious that he truly means his words. Which isn’t unsurprising considering his nigh-darwinist “Survival of the fittest” mentality. And as he continues, disgust creeps even deeper into his voice.
“Hedonism. A concept created to make an excuse for those unable to control their basest desires. Pleasure is the easiest goal to attain. And you Shepherd have attained it. When you found a world that accepted your lust for flesh and what flesh you lust after… you found yourself purposeless. So you took it to the extreme. You desire attention and you desire controversy. Yet you shall get neither from us. After Climax Control we will forget you even exist. To us your desires and your needs are irrelevant. To us you, just like our previous opponent are just another faceless, nameless lamb to the slaughter. The wolfslair will run out of footsoldiers quicker than the Saviors are exhausted. Fenris sealed his own fate when he tried to intervene in our actions. And we will torment him further by making you squeal under our boot.”
Straightening up to his full height SuMa opens the jacket and casts it aside, revealing his pale torso to the rain. Moonlight glistens off the intricate web of scars that pattern on every inch of his body and reflect off the chiseled physique that is pulling the skin so taut.
“Shepherd. There is a saying that there is a thin line between pain and pleasure. We can assure you that what we will inflict on you will be so far away from that line that you will never forget it. Long after our encounter has ended the memory of the agony you suffered will linger in your mind. Even when you are immersing yourself in that which you so much love you cannot forget what we did to you. And to top it all off. Fenris will be forced to watch.. The man you love will be forced to witness as we make a statement to the entire world using you as prop. He won’t be physically hurt but the mental pain will be enjoyable to us. Even if we would prefer him to rush down the aisle as before and attempt to intervene. Giving us a reason to throw him around like a ragdoll once more…”
SuMa stretches his arms into a crucifix-pose and tilts his head upwards, letting the rainfall bathe him unrestricted. As he does this his voice takes an almost preaching-quality as he proclaims his intentions to the world.
“Climax Control will be a defining night in your life, Shepherd. At Climax Control you will find out what true power is. What it truly means to be weak and what true strength is. And as you lay down in the ground… your brain shutting down because it cannot comprehend the agony you are in… you will understand. You will understand the magnitude of your mistake.”
He makes eye-contact with the camera once more, his voice quieting to a raspy whisper as he speaks one more time.
“You stepped on our path of destruction”
Standing still for a split second to let his words sink in, SuMa turns around and disappears into the night as the view fades to black.
