The escalator climbed through the clouds and surged towards the Heavens without second thought. All those that stepped foot on the giant stairway knew what lay ahead, but just as importantly they knew what they were leaving behind. The Planet Earth grew smaller with every passing second as the departed gazed over their shoulders with thoughts of the past flooding back to the forefront of their heads.

Champion sighed heavily as he contemplated his lifetime’s efforts.

His rise to prominence in No Limits Championship Wrestling was dramatic. His run as flag bearer in the company was second to none. His record against top competition was practically flawless... but it was the ‘practically’ part that bothered him. One blip stood out in his mind, gnawing away at him from the inside and tearing away at the very foundation of his sanity.

Rick Majors. Rick Majors. Rick Majors.

“That’s going to be in your head forever, Champ,” said a familiar voice.

Glancing over his right shoulder, he jumped backwards in horror as a Saintly Phil Castle equipped with halo and matching pair of wings grinned at him with his arms folded. Castle let out a small giggle and pointed down towards his feet; he stood hovering on a fluffy cloud that climbed in unison with the escalator.

“That’s right, Champ. I’ve been here a while. You didn’t actually think you were going to be the first of us to make it to the Pearly white gates did you?” nodded Castle. “It’s kind of cool when you get there, you see. They hand out this nifty pair of wings that allow you to do pretty much whatever the fuck you want; I can fly like a bird, walk through walls, spy on the chicks in the girl’s locker room. You name it, bro, and I can do it.”

“Fuck,” said Champion in disbelief. “That is impressive. I guess dying isn’t so bad after all.”

“Not so fast, Champ,” announced Castle, waving his index finger with an aura of discontent. “Like I said, that loss to Majors is going to be in your head for a very long time. I mean, we haven’t really got a whole lot to do up here besides play checkers. You’re going to have the rest of eternity to deliberate over that loss. Think about that for a second.”

Champion winced as he screwed his face up; pulling his eyebrows downwards as if they were controlled by magnets and forcing the frown lines on his forehead to multiply. The prospect of having to dwell on one loss for so long didn’t particularly sit well with him; after all, his entire career had been spent as a perfectionist. He hated the idea of having unfinished business.

Stamping his left foot down in anger, he shot a look of displeasure towards Castle.

“What the fuck can I do about it now, Castle? This escalator is a one way ticket to the afterlife. I can’t exactly jump off and hope for the best now, can I?”

A bolt of ice cold air shot through Champion’s hair, ruffling his once majestic fringe and knocking him slightly off balance. Castle shimmied over on his cloud and placed a comforting arm on the newly deceased man’s shoulder. He giggled enthusiastically before slapping Champion in the back with a hearty pat.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Champ,” bragged Castle. “You see, because you haven’t quite made it to the gates of Heaven yet, you can simply jump off this escalator and tumble back down to Earth. Sure, it’s a 256765000 foot drop, but you’re dead, remember? If you choose to take this plunge, you’ll be given the option of returning to your life for a little while longer. So, if you can cope with heights, you’ve got a choice to make.”

Champion gulped as he gazed down at the nothingness below. The Planet Earth looked like a currant from his place upon high and was surrounded by nothing but the colour black.

I fucking hate heights, he thought to himself.

Shameful memories of that ill fated school trip to the Eiffel Tower that led to the paramedics having to physically remove him from the lift entered his mind. He remembered the way in which his knees knocked together like castanets on speed. He remembered the thick taste of vomit in his throat. He remembered the howling voice of the wind roaring in his face. He remembered...

“Champ! Champ! Champ!” interrupted Castle. “These wings also give me the power of telepathy. Stop being such a pussy and just jump already.”

With a nod of the head, Champion composed himself and drew in a deep breath. He threw a quick thumbs up in the direction of the, bizarrely, Angelic Phil Castle and hurled himself off the metallic staircase. The great black void rushed at his face as he sped through space, gathering pace and shooting downwards at a rate that caused the skin on his face to peel backwards. The tiny currant sized Planet grew larger and larger as he approached it. Finally, he plunged through the atmosphere and fell towards the ground.

Shit! What about the fucking landing? This is going to fucking hurt!

The ground rapidly approached as Champion wielded his eyes shut and prayed that he’d never listened to Castle in the first place. The impact moved closer...

And closer... and closer... and...

BOOM!

Champion opened his eyes and patted the strange substance that he found himself nestled into. It was thin, blonde and very, very soft.

“Holy shit. I landed in a haystack. Isn’t that a stroke of luck?”

Exhaling deeply, Champion pondered the significance of his words. Although his body was infested with a terminal disease that would no doubt bring an end to his life, he realised that he was lucky in that it hadn’t killed him straight off the bat; he could quite easily have taken a bullet to the head in Morocco, but instead his captors had given him time to make up for the mistakes of his past.

It was in that moment that he figured that luck didn’t have a great lot to do with it at all. This was his fate. This was his destiny.

Beat Rick Majors and show them who you are, he thought to himself. Number one.

Life had always been a great mystery to Chris Champion, but now he had a definitive purpose. One shot. One chance.

One kill.