*Our vision blinks into focus looking down at a set of railroad tracks from above. It is as though we are hovering about fifteen feet above the ground. Our vision then slowly shifts up and we see a building in the distance, a freeway of sorts with cars, trucks, semi trucks and trailers moving past our vision. Now our vision shifts around to the right, almost following the freeway until we fall upon another building. A mural of graffiti with skulls and the words Fear Factory laid out across the top of this dull gray building. We begin to slowly move toward said mural, breaching the top edge of the building landing upon none other than the Man of Chaos, Zolton. He stands looking out over the landscape across the land behind and below us. He is wearing a leather coat with what looks to be some other type of material on the inside. His sunglasses are mirrored and brightly reflecting the sun that seems to be setting off in the distance. His left foot rests up on the elevated edge of the roof of the building.*
The conclusion of the big Alpha and Omega tournament is closer now then some could have dreamed. The stars are separating themselves from the rest in their respective blocks. One said star, new to Championship Wrestling Federation, but not new to tournaments like this sits in third place currently. One point separates him and his foe this Halloween special spectacular, Evolution Sixty Nine. Zolton, the Man of Chaos, walks into this battle against Duce Jones with ten points. While Duce sits with eleven. Not only is this going to be a battle for the second spot officially in the Alpha Block.
*As the soft, raspy female voice speaks, we begin to move more to the side of Zolton.*
This battle will be within the confines of an enclosed cage that is called a Hell in a Cell. Zolton is riding high with a victory of Konrad Raab last Evolution. Jones however is a jump in competition for the Man of Chaos. Zolton’s only loss is to the man currently holding the top spot of the Alpha Block. Only a few weeks remain. What will pan out from this battle?
“I will prove that Chaos cannot be contained.”
*A smile appears on his face as he spoke softly. A breeze passes through tossing his long wavy hair back before the waves settle back down upon his shoulders. He then raises his right hand and forms a fist, but leaves his index finger out pointing out in front of him. We turn to look that way for a moment before returning to him.*
“Out there is the Great Salt Lake. It is about thirty miles or so. But I am not standing at the top of this building to talk about the lake. I am also not going to sit here and give you peons and parasites a history lesson on how things were settled and built upon in this state. No. I am here to give my proposal to one Duce Jones. A statement. A warning even. A preamble to his official memorial services.”
*As he speaks, he lowers his hand back down where he settles it back into his coat pocket, where it originated.*
“First allow me to give condolences to the friends and family of one Konrad Raab. Alright that is it. I told you Raab, it was your final melting pot and that is exactly what it was.”
*His smile fades as he lowers his left foot from the landing of the building.*
“Now my dominance. My prowess. My Chaos enters into the back half of this tournament riding high. Kind of like this building I am standing at the top of. This next match will define the top spots of the Alpha block. A Hell in a Cell match between myself and Duce Jones. Before I go on, were your ignorant, third grade reaching parents trying to name you Dulce? Or Douche? But with their obvious lack of education, couldn’t spell either one correctly?”
*He slowly shakes his head while shifting and turning to face us now as we hover quietly. His mirrored sunglasses send a line of blinding light right at us.*
“Whatever the case may be, I feel no sympathy for you. Especially as you grew up. Having such a name and having to deal with neanderthals trying to boost their own egos by torturing your little, insignificant world. So. Moving on. Jones, you are just above me in this tournament. One point over me. When I defeat you Tuesday night, I will take that spot from you. Possibly ending your quest to become a World Champion for a third time. That is the idea here. I have been saying and will continue to say it. I am not your typical splash in the pan fool like others that have put their names in this tournament. Examples are easy. You beat one last show. I beat another last show and have been throughout the length of this tournament. You may had some push from your first match until the last. This is where your push and journey crashes to a halt.”
*Zolton’s speaks clearly. Softly but with some intensity behind each syllable he speaks.*
“I am standing on top of what they like to call the Fear Factory Jones. A place where several and violent tragedies have actually occurred. Why am I here? It is simple. The american holiday known as Halloween is only two days after I encapsulate hell and steal your soul. During this season of the year, fools that think they are creative and enjoy capturing funds of morons turn this place into a falsified haunted maze. The location of this property where the actual tragedies and past reports of true paranormal activity is nowhere near where they created the maze of weirdness. Now why do I bring all of this up? What does it have to do with our match? All questions floating inside that space between your ears there Jones. Because I enjoy instilling true fear into those that think they have that capability. And I will be happier than you when you get one of those giant lollipops from a candy store your slightly more intelligent grandparents take you to when you swing back home, when I see that fear in your eyes when you stand in front of me inside that cell Tuesday night.”
*His tone shifts slightly to a lighter one as he continues to speak.*
“Jones, I feed off that fear. That glint of trying not to shit your pants because you have to face me. Thing is, unlike my previous battles of this tournament, you will have nowhere to run unless I allow it. The thing is, now that I said that, do you think I will? You’ve been unspectacular in my eyes when it comes to the battles you’ve been a part of in this tournament. Let’s rewind back a little while. Something happened to you back at Evolution Sixty Seven didn’t Jones? You received a chair shot and your pathetic physical carcass failed to respond and was rushed to the hospital. How is your head after that? You are going to be pissing your pants seeing just one of me inside that cell, I can only imagine what you will do when you are seeing two, three, even four of me.”
*His tone grows more vicious. Venom laced within each syllable he speaks.*
“Let this be my one time warning Jones. Your soft, underdeveloped cranium, couldn’t withstand a little chair shot from a little one celled organism like Fuller, you will most definitely not survive the hell I am about to take you to in this match. I am far superior than you in a standard style match. Add the structure around us, the chaos will be superb, extravagant even.”
*The Man of Chaos lightly chuckles as he removes his sunglasses now. His piercing blue eyes glow, a bright contrast to the pale blue sky behind him.*
“Jones, your health. Your future. Your already scrambled brains are in major jeopardy in this match. I welcome pain. It doesn’t phase me. It won’t stop me from inflicting more pain upon you in this match. Violence. Sadistic and unrelenting. Ultimately chaos. All things that I love. Cherish. Pray that I get. I excel when the violence is more. The chaos is overwhelming. That is where I will succeed and that is where you will fail. When you can’t decide which direction is up from down. That is when my wave will swallow you up Jones. Not only will I be happy in the fact that I will be sending you to the hospital, for a second time during this tournament. But I will be satisfied in the fact that you will no longer be above me in the standings. On a positive note for you Jones, I did a little research on the hospitals in this area. They are excellent in dealing with mentally challenged professional wrestlers that are too ignorant to stop before they start. Jones, I am the true Alpha. I’ve said it throughout my time in this company. I won’t stop with destroying you. I have one end goal in mind since signing up for this tournament. I won’t be satisfied until that championship belt is mine. You are nothing more than a seedling in a game far too grand for your sort. I am the bringer of Chaos. The conductor of violence. I am your nightmare personified. When you lock eyes with these…”
*He leans in closer to us, his left hand slowly enters our vision, his index pointing in the direction of his growing brighter glowing blue eyes.*
“Only then you will realize this is not a place you should be. But it will be too late for you to escape. To backpedal. At that moment, the door will be locked, the cell surrounding us. The parasites in the Vivint Smart Home Arena cheering your pathetic, cowering carcass, encouraging you, trying to give you false confidence that you have a chance. Reality though. You will know it. I will know it. You have no chance in fighting your way out of the Chaos. Your time is more limited now than it has ever been Jones. I can say that I won’t end your life, but your career, I will. Welcome to the Violent Chaos I have cultivated just for you.”
*A laugh of pure evil comes from Zolton as he puts his sunglasses back on and vanishes to our right. We float for a few moments longer before her voice returns. Our vision begins to turn back toward the direction where Zolton pointed earlier. Seeing the sun set below the distant horizon.*
The Man of Chaos, Zolton has spoken. His words, a bit sporadic, for legitimate reasons of course. He is chaotic. This next round of the Alpha and Omega Tournament ends only one way, Zolton’s hand raised in absolute and definitive victory. How will that come about? Tune into Evolution Sixty Nine presented by Championship Wrestling Federation to see how the Man of Chaos toys with his prey, Duce Jones, before he ends him officially. A Hell in a Cell. All about Hellbound Tuesday night. Chaos thrives and will show no reprieve. The era of Chaos inches closer. Peons and Parasites, shall bow in defeat.
*Her raspy voice trails off into silence as our vision slowly fades away to darkness.*
"The concession stands are now selling those cheap hotel room round soap disks that I have personally blessed for $100’s a bar….AND SINNERS….I suggest you buy one, and use it, because if you think your God wants you in his heaven smelling like a 3am New York City uber ride you got another thing coming."