The Curtain Opens...
Darkness fills the screen. For several moments there is nothing but black, then a voice echoes through the infinite space.
“Go.”
The dark space before us warps ripples as if made of water, then a bright slit of light appears, almost like a great slash has been made through the fabric of reality itself. The cut continues to grow, the black around it being pulled by some force away from the light. In a matter of moments, all the shadow has been pulled away from this world, and for a second, the camera is blinded by the rays of light flooding into the scene. The apature adjusts itself, and soon the set comes into focus. We are staring out at an enormous empty auditorium. The camera is set on the stage and that oddness in the beginning was merely the curtain being pulled back, to reveal the stage lit up by lights.
The auditorium is quite fancy, with golden carvings on the wall among famous pictures. The chairs are all red leather, with stained wooden armrests. A crystal chandelier hangs from the depiction of heaven painted on the ceiling. It is the picture perfect auditorium.
Footsteps get progressively louder as the camera continues to pan about the room. They get closer to the camera until they are practically right on top of it. A shadow passes in front of the camera and is silhouetted against the lights coming from the auditorium. The figure is built like a tank, with wide shoulders and enormously muscular arms. He has an air of arrogance about him, and carries himself with a large degree of confidence. Getting all it can at the current location, the camera cuts to a profile shot of the dark figure.
Holocaust looks out at the non existent audience. He’s deathly serious looking, without a shred of a smile on his face. He looks slightly different than when we saw him last. Instead of his usual trench coat and wrestling attire beneath it, he’s wearing an all black three piece suit with a blood red tie. The sunglasses are still present as are the leather gloves. His hair is now black, although there appear to be dark red highlights in it now. It remains spiked up as always. His hands folding before him, Holocaust breathes deeply.
“It has certainly been awhile. Six months to be precise. A long time to be sure. But that time allowed me to do a number of things. I’ve reflected on my EUWC career, looked at my accomplishments, my victories and my failures. I realized that I don’t need EUWC like it needs me. I have a job with the Dominion, more money than I have things to spend it on and a future of luxury. So why should I bother with something as pedestrian as wrestling? It was a question I debated for some time. Then it hit me. Where else would I be able to cause as much destruction and pain? The answer is no where. So I believe I will stay, to make each and every man’s life in EUWC a living hell. We have merely begun anew. The curtain has risen and act two begins now.”
Holocaust turns from empty auditorium and walks into the dimly lit halls backstage. His dress shoes echo in the emptiness.
“Now that my little introduction is complete, it’s time to get down to business. I have many things and people to discuss. First and foremost, Paul Doom. This man had the audacity to eliminate me from the Blood Bath match. Not a particularly good move on his part. Doom and myself do have a bit of history together and have yet to settle it. Now, I would have let bygones be bygones since those months have passed, HOWEVER...it would appear that Doom wants to provoke the darkness. As he wishes; I have no qualms about putting down arrogant has beens. Now, I’m sure Doom could easily say that he was simply doing his job, as it was every man for himself. I don’t look at it like that. I think Doom SPECIFICALLY went after me because of our past conflicts. That being the case, I feel some retaliation is in order. Maybe not this week, with all I have on plate, but mark my words, the day will come when we bury this feud.”
Holocaust weaves his way through the derelict halls, making his way through the labyrinthine structure to the massive doors that serve as entrance and exit. Holocaust continues walking from the building letting it’s enormity appear before the camera. He turns and looks back at it.
“Beautiful, isn’t it? The Dominion Opera House. Built in the mid 1800’s, it has housed every major opera and play that has come into existence. Its history is grand and continues to draw record crowds who seek only to escape reality for a few hours. This places history is still being written. Much like the greatest title of them all, the World Heavyweight Championship. It is a beautiful thing, with a long and prestigious history that is still being written even now. I have to congratulate my former ally Sean Taylor on adding another notch to his belt of accomplishments. But, like all good things, this too must come to an end. Although I like you, Taylor, that is MY belt you are holding. You see, there is a specific degree of order that must be kept in EUWC. You are required to remain at the International Champion level. That is your job. Period. As for me, I am required to be at the top of EUWC with the World Heavyweight Championship around my waist. That is the law and who are you to disrupt that? So you could save us both much trouble if you simply laid down at Main Frame and passed the belt on to me like you should. If your ego somehow won’t let that happen, fear not, I am more than capable of taking it myself.”
Holocaust smiles and adjusts his tie as he continues to walk away from the building. A long black limo waits for him in the parking lot. Holocaust heads over and opens the door. There appears to be other people in the car but it is much too dark to make out who they are. Holocaust turns one last time to the camera.
“Welcome back, EUWC, welcome back.”
He chuckles as he steps into the limo. The door closes and the camera fades to black as we hear Holocaust address the figures in the car.
“My friends...we have much to talk about.”
