The necromancer brought his face to an empty camera lens, dead to the PPV world for another few moments.
This was pacification, a desperate tactic by the DWF heads to keep any match from turning into an expensive liability. Damien was locked in a tag match, but his rival was given... Nothing.
Nothing. A void in which all things just simply do not exist. Should he be insulted? Should he be concerned that another attempt to secure him might be beyond that dressing room door?
Clutching his fists into a clawed cup within a brooding thought surfaced. Rebellion, revolution, the air was ripe with the fruits of these powerful words. His cold eyes turned to the peon assigned to flick the feed switch ahead of him.
With a deep growl he uttered,
"Fuck it, I'm doing it live!"
The camera technician shrugged and fished his top pocket for what was left of a Butterfinger. There he runched on the contents of the candy filling his mouth with chewy buttery goodness. It was better than jacking off in the moonlight on a seven story balcony with a pile of Hookers waiting for you to bounce your credit rating on their glorious tight asses. A peon's dream sopping wet.
The Straight to the Grave Arena filled with a sinister glowing portal light, dead toxic neon green and venomous black snaked in the air before opening the unworldly portal to which the creature stepped out to a chorus of jeers. Finding his own voice enhancing microphone Undead Enigma made his declaration of Rebellion.
" Be silent you faceless obese peons! Your master and ruler has something to address, and if you do not cease to bite your tongues I will be forced to shred them from your gaping maws with a simple gesture of my ultimate power.
Fairchilde, when I signed my name upon the DWF contracts I didn't think you would flounder on bringing me what I wanted. For the most part as we began our dealings you delivered the message quite well that I was to be feared by the insignificant wretches crawling on the floors of this federation. But not even a year has passed and that fruit has rotted and fallen far from the tree. A simple ordered contract clause has been ignored. Siting some fear that others would be hurt during what could be the most unprecedented contest in DWF history. Since when has the welfare of the jaded peon mattered so much to the DWF? You have their riches in tow, what do you care what happens to the souls of these down trodden urchins? You send heroes after me, and as a result innocence is smashed and mangled into the shadows. Their fool hardy brave souls belong to my demon master now. Which brings me to this night. This Halloween night.
Lord of all things deceased, returner of undead, bringer of the damned, is denied one soul to infect? Not one sniveling coward that calls themselves a creature placed a name to face me in combat. Instead I am told I have five meek insolent minutes to speak my mind, cause it's entertaining. Did you think this pacification would feed my thirst? A lust that stems with bringing these complacent fools what would be the match of the damned able year? Is my conquest of Damien Death not worthy of Straight to the Grave? Heh, insolent pissant. It seems that I will have to take matters into my own vengeful hands.
I present an ultimatum. Give me my rematch or I will infect every watching soul in this arena. No amount of protection witches magic is going to stop the plague I will unleash. The Necronomicon ex Ore Mortis' pages shall be unhinged tonight! That is unless I get you to deliver a contract to me on your hands and knees. You thought humans would suffer before, well now I've placed all of them on a ticking time bomb. Choose Fairchilde, heh... Will it be my rematch, or will you face a growing army of animated corpses risen from this very spot? "
JR: ...
King: is he serious?
JR: ...
King: JR? Can Enigma do such a...thing?
JR: ...
King: Ross, just what in the-
JR: SWALLOW YOUR SOUL! SWALLOW YOUR SOUL! AAAAAGGGGHHHHH AAAAAA!
King: SHIT! < Bails from the booth ripping the head set from the table bolting to the back stage not looking back>
JR: WE ARE THE ONES WHO INFECT ALLLL OOOFF THE SOULLLSSS! WE SHALLL BE ONE WITH YOU ALL SOON ENOUGH! JOIN USSSSSS! AAAAAGGGHHHH!
The deadite hold on Jim Ross lifts him into the air and then he is dropped to the table as instantly as his possession began. His eyes clear as the features to his palsied face return from demonic to normal.
JR: "Candice has been put into a real hard decision by a back mage terrorist! What will be her answer to such a disgraceful threat? Enigma's not leaving till he gets what he wants!"
(OOC: We should discuss what should happen next here, I'm just throwing out some Halloween creepy cheer, and I'm expecting to be put down hard. Attn: Damien, Viper, anyone else who doesn't want to be a deadite zombie... )