His thoughts echoed with the intense sensations. The voices of his many followers calling to him, chanting his name to the heavens as he physically sacrificed a demon from his past; letting the blood hungry audience eat him alive; guiding Raven’s hand to inflict more and more harm. What just took place wasn’t Raven beating The Sandman….but the ECW fans using Raven to speak their minds. No longer will they sit back and watch everything they have burn to ashes. ECW might have soled out….but in the eyes of the “believers”….the hardcore generation is far from dead; and with every drop of blood they spilled Raven and Sandman proved it.

Silently Stevie and Blue Meanie watch on, horrified at the sight of their leader laying face down in a pool of his own blood. Raven using what little energy he has left to push himself up onto his knees, his upper body arched back while his arms hanging limply from his sides. Those dirty blond locks of his are now stained with red; hanging down in front of his face.

With every breath he takes, his chest seems to hurt more. Like at any moment his heart could explode right out through his ribcage, ending it once and for all. But no…death won’t find Raven so easy, so he will only continue to suffer. The backstage hallway is dead silent. Stage hands and crew members don’t dare to look at Raven; they too had just witnessed what Sandman and Raven just did to each other and are not eager to get on his bad side. Stevie and Meanie looks back and forth between each other, not sure what to do. Raven just sits silently…looking off at nothing.

'Big Stevie Cool' Stevie Richards: Hey Rav, buddy….why don’t ya let Meanie and me carry ya back to the locker room. Not that you need our help or anything, but….well….you’re not looking too good.

The Blue Meanie nods in agreement with Stevie, but Raven still says nothing. He just runs his hand through his hair, still peering off at nothingness. The ECW camera manages to zoom in and get a good look at Raven; how the blood from his wounds roll down his cheeks almost like tears.

The look on his face haunted all who seen it. As though touched by a higher power…only for a moment the world around Raven seemed clear. It took being baptized in his own blood to find it; but his life had a strange purpose again. Only when confronting death did he feel alive, it was like no other drug he could ever take. Bliss and agony going so insanely well together. Raven takes in one more soft breath. Holding onto it in hopes that he could regrouping a little, become something more like himself. He finally lets go of the breath, lifting his head up a little before speaking.

'The Lost Soul' raVen: One door closes….and another one opens. That is the irony that is life….that is the method to my madness. I beg for peace, just one solitary moment where I don’t have a gun to my chin…too much of a coward, but pushed to the point I can not take it away. Dear god just make it stop….make it all just disappear. It’s bullshit. Without pain there can be no Raven…and no Raven means no salvation, no one for you to nail to the corporate cross and throw stones at. Go ahead, throw your shame at me, it doesn’t matter. I’ll die for your sins…I’ll die for anyone. Ha ha, lets get real, I’ll die for no one. The truth is I’m in hell….and I’m just dragging the rest of you along for the ride…

Raven falls back against the brick wall of the arena. Digging his finger in-between the cement grooves, he starts to drag himself up to his feet; his body trembling uncontrollably, it was the last bit of his dignity coming back to him. Stevie and Blue Meanie would of loved to help him up, but for how childish they are, even they wouldn’t dare bother him right now. Raven takes a couple of steps forward, stumbling a little but still somehow managing to keep enough stability not to fall back down. Silently Richards and Meanie fallow Raven, scared about what kind of monster this match might have unleashed in him…..

Raven lets his body melt back into the sofa, every little pain still sharply shooting through his figure. That is the reward for being in ECW. A constant pain and another chance to inflict more injuries on yourself and others. Life’s a bitch, I guess. Raven reaches down to the big phonebook that is sitting on his lap. Reaching into the sandwich baggy he pulls out a couple of green nuggs, breaking them up onto the book; throwing the stems and seeds in random directions. A pack of ZigZags sits up in the corner of the book Another sharp pain comes ripping through his figure like a knife. Raven slowly crouches down, holding his rib cage as he fights to catch his breath.

Raven puts the book down onto the splintering table at the edge of the sofa. Reaching into the pocket Raven grabs a hand full of different colored pills. Without looking he tosses them into his mouth. Reaching down to his feet he picks up the brown paper bag, taking the bottle of vodka out. Over his shoulder he can hear an arrogant voice shout “Rav’s got the right idea, lets get fuckin hammered! Ha ha!”. Raven doesn’t bother looking to see who it is. He just twists off the top, bringing the edge of the bottle to his lips. Closing his eyes he tilts it back, letting the harsh liquid carry the pills down his throat; the vodka burning like clear fire, all the way down.

From in a dead run Shannon Moore leaps over the back of the couch, crossing his legs as he sits on the couch with Raven. “The Reject” has a look of early intoxication on his face, clutching a shot glass in each fist, laughing like some town alcoholic. Shannon slams both glasses down onto the table, taking the liberty of picking the vodka back up and filling the two glasses.

'The Prince of Punk' Shannon Moore: Man this room sucks. Piece of shit hotel, a hooker was probably strangled in one of the beds.

'The Lost Soul' raVen: Probably…

Raven gives Shannon a look as though he could be serious. Shannon chuckles for a moment, feeling an uneasy silence creep up between the two of them.

'The Prince of Punk' Shannon Moore: Soooo…you down to do a shot with me? I’d offer ya’ girl one…but she don’t look like she could handle her any of this reject! Oh yeah, I said it. Step up to this bottle of vodka and get punk’d bitches! You were warned!

Moore stands up, holding the vodka bottle in his hand as though it was a trophy or something. Raven just shakes his head, letting his friend think what ever he wants. From in the other room; Daffney and Dawn Marie walk out, the two laughing and talking back and forth. Suddenly they both just stop, looking up towards Moore with a look on their faces like he just said something personally about them. Daff’ and Dawn walk up to Raven and Shannon, Daffney getting just a few inches away from Shannon’s face as she takes the vodka bottle from him and sets it down onto the table.

Raven just sits back, laughing a little to himself at the sight of Shannon Moore about to get beat down by a drunk Daffney Unger and Dawn Marie. But instead of punching Shannon in the mouth the girls just smile devilishly, reaching down to the tables; picking up the two shot glasses. Like a couple of troopers Daffney and Dawn down the booze as if it was water; slamming their empty glasses onto the table. Daffney and Dawn start laughing as they shove Shannon back a bit. Moore just smirks, picking up the bottle of vodka as he hands it off to Raven. Raven picks up the phonebook again, handing it to Shannon as he opens up the vodka…

'The Lost Soul' raVen: Go save your dignity. Take this in the other room and roll it….

Shannon nods, taking the “substance” as he walks off mumbling “Psh! This night isn’t over, they haven’t out drank me yet…”. The two girls join Raven on the couch; Daffney to the left of him and Dawn on the right. In a weird way it was as though he was sitting between his past and his future. Dawn Marie, the Jersey girl whom he had grown up with. Who use to pity him in the class room only to watch him drop out and get his skull beat in by other ECW superstars. Daffney Unger…his psychotic lover who needs his guidance and adoration. She looks inside his soul and sees something more than what most do. She knows the self destructive path Raven is on and choose to fallow him regardless.

'The Lost Soul' raVen: …This is the strangest life I’ve ever known…

'The Jersey Devil' Dawn Marie: Well said. *playfully applauds him* Still the poet I see….some things never change. To think I grew up with you…ha! You were a loser then too.

Dawn shoves him a little; the bond between the two of them going deeper than even their time in ECW. Dawn giggles, taking a sip of her beer. Raven hardly smirks, running his hand through his hair; taking the neck of the vodka bottle in his free hand.

'The Lost Soul' raVen: As you said, love. Some things never change…

Raven brings the bottle back, tipping it as a river of vodka starts to pour down his throat. Both Daffney and Dawn start to laugh, feeling a bit intoxicated themselves as a small stream of liquor drips down Raven’s chin. Closing his eyes he leans back, feeling the effect of those pain killers kicking in. His mind only blurs for a moment. The sound of Dawn Marie speaking to him shakes off his daze and brings him back to an awareness; reminding him of this small gathering in the hell hole of a motel room.

'The Jersey Devil' Dawn Marie: You know I’m only playing around. You and Tommy were always cool, well, at least I thought so…I’m not too sure what the other kids use to think. Still, I’m sorry how things turned out between you and him…I know he was a good friend of yours. Must be driving you crazy a little, having to fight him this week?

Silently Raven stairs into the half empty bottle of vodka. It symbolized something just then, something no one but Raven could ever understand. Leaning his head back, looking off at the water damage spots on the ceiling, Raven starts to speak…

'The Lost Soul' raVen: It’s funny…you would think I would feel bad about it. Having to beat my childhood best friend in the skull until he can no longer speak…his blood coating the ring as I further inflict punishment on him; you would think it would bother me, at least in some insignificant degree….but truth be told, I could careless. Dreamer made his choice. All I ever asked of him was to just be there for me…as a friend. Some one I could trust in, some one who would watch my back. But he couldn’t be bothered with things as empty and meaningless as a friends suffering. When he turned his back on me…I turned my sympathy away from him. As far as I’m concerned….he is just another victim.

Dawn coughs a little, seeing she hit a sensitive spot with Raven. She leans her head on the free shoulder of her old friend, a bit worried about his mental state. But Raven has always been a bit disturbing, even as a child; Dawn knew this, but it seems that over the years his “little illness” has gotten worse. His depression more noticeable. Raven drapes his arm around Daffney’s shoulder, hugging her closer to his side.

After what seems like a small life time, Shannon Moore walks out of the other room; several rolled ZigZag’s hanging from his lips as he smirks. Raven looks over his shoulder towards his “pupil”, nodding for him to come into the room. Shannon takes a seat on the floor, leaning with his back against the couch as he starts distributing out the “joints”. Raven brushes back a few strands of his stringy hair, reaching into the pocket of his leather jacket as he pulls out a lighter.

Flicking the flame, Raven lights the end of his joint; passing the lighter down to Moore. A huge cloud of smoke fills the dirty hotel room. Softly he coughs, holding onto as much in his chest as humanly possible. Shannon chuckling at his feet as he sparks up another one. The Flock, together in addiction, get swallowed by rolling hills of pot smoke, healing what ever internal wounds they might not of been willing to admit. Even the “conservative” Dawn Marie giggles a bit, her mind starting to catch a faint buzz from the smoke.

'The Jersey Devil' Dawn Marie: Wow…uummm, I haven’t felt this good sense college, ha ha. Just don’t tell anyone, you guys, this could really trash my reputation.

Dawn turns red in the cheeks a little, not sure if she wants to take the rolled substance Moore was handing’ up to her…

'The Prince of Punk' Shannon Moore: If you think sitting in a cloud of it is fun, just wait until you actually breath the stuff in. Just look at me. Until I discovered the perfect bliss of smoking’ down with my boy Raven; I was NORMAL…what ever the hell THAT means. So come on, girl, expand your mind and what not….

Moore sticks his tongue out as he offers Dawn the joint. Dawn gets a bit of a panicked look over her face, not sure what to do. That’s when he intervenes. Raven snatches the rolled ZigZag from Shannon’s fingers, making sure to knee him in the back.

'The Lost Soul' raVen: Leave her alone.…

Shannon mumbles something to himself. A bit frustrated by Raven’s bias attitude towards Dawn, Shannon just takes a drag off of the joint, not wanting Raven to notice his annoyance. “She isn’t even one of us…” he whispers, reaching over beside him as he picks up the TV remote.

For a moment Raven just lets himself drift, surrounded by those who are drawn to his depressed outlook on the world. But peace never lasts, especially if you’re Raven. Another breath of smoke leaves his chest when he notices the television. A fire lights up inside of him, something so sick and twisted seeming to bubble over. Raven runs his hand through his hair, a bit stunned to see Tommy Dreamer’s face on the TV set. The very sight of him turns Raven’s stomach; being forced to watch the ongoing joke that Dreamer had become. It was only when Tommy went as far as picking up his own hair clippings and eating them, all in the name of publicity, that Raven loses it….

'The Lost Soul' raVen: Jesus Christ, Tommy…what have you done to yourself?

Raven slowly rises up to his feet; the joint hanging from his lips and the bottle of vodka in his hand; he just can’t seem to take his eyes off of Tommy. Everything Dreamer is doing only proves what he has known all along. ECW is dead, and nothing he does will bring it back. His eyes could burn a hole through the television; sick to his stomach by what Dreamer is doing, and for what? One single moment of fame and adoration? It’s a shame. All eyes in the room seem to fix on Raven, everyone obviously seeing his frustration pour out. Raven takes a few drags off of the ZigZag, blindly handing it over to whoever would take it from him. The silence in the room could kill. Raven takes a pull from the bottle of vodka, letting the stinging liquid touch his tongue before swallowing.

Suddenly Raven loses it! Without warning he throws the bottle at the television; the bottle shattering as shards of glass shoot off in different directions. “This is bullshit!” he shouts, falling to his knees only a few feet from the TV. With his head lowered, his long hair hanging into his face to hide his personal resentment of this situation, Raven starts to speak.

'The Lost Soul' raVen: Is this my fate? To someday become another puppet like everyone ells? To parade around looking like a fool while children beg me for my autograph? It’s bullshit. No one gives a damn weather we believe in the lie or not, as long as we spend money to sustain it. I sacrifice myself night after night, to feed the very thing I hate. It doesn’t matter if I come out every night and bleed every drop of blood that I have to offer, in the end, when I have no purpose I am forgotten. Tommy is just too scared to understand that, he tries to hold on by acting like a fool….does he really think that it will save him in the end? It’s pathetic. I can’t stand Dreamer…but even he doesn’t deserve this. It’s political suicide at its worst….or best, who am I to judge?

Raven shakes his head, not sure what the hell is going on anymore.

'The Lost Soul' raVen: Why do I even try? It doesn’t change anything…..

Raven rises back up to his feet. Shannon Moore passes the rolled ZigZag to him, seeing the look of sheer hate on his face. Taking a couple of drags before handing it back, Raven walks past the large group of people and out the door. No one could begin to grasp the conflict going on within Raven. But throughout the insanity, Dawn Marie quickly jumps up to her feet and goes after the delusional Raven; not wanting him to go and do anything irrational. Stumbling a little, Raven walks towards one of the hotel exits. After seeing Tommy Dreamer degrade himself for the almighty dollar, the “poet” within Raven lost his mind. To Raven, this company was more than another promotion. His life was filled with neglect and abuse, and in a sick way, ECW had come to fill a void in his life; a place to belong. In ECW Raven could be himself…it wasn’t about making money, but making a stand. To lose the one space you’ve turned to for stability, Raven can’t take it anymore. He was heading towards ECW…intoxicated or not, something needed to be done.

Dawn manages to catch up with him in the hall, grabbing hold of the sleeve of the leather jacket, jerking Raven back around towards her. Raven doesn’t fight her, why should he? He faces down, his face looking as though all the life within his body had been sucked out. His eyes glowing with a empty, hollowness to them…almost haunting. Raven looked like a living corpse, a soul living with no purpose. Longing to die…but immortal in his own rights.

'The Jersey Devil' Dawn Marie: Hey Scott, you don’t look too good, hun. You should come back to the room with me, ok? You don’t gotta’ drink or smoke or anything like that. Let those other guys have their fun, but you just need to clear your head. You got a ECW WORLD heavyweight title match coming up. You need to be on your game, you know? …..Scott, I’m just worried about you.

'The Lost Soul' raVen: ….don’t worry about me, Dawn…it’s pointless. We all have things that torment us…things that we dare not speak to another soul, for fear that they would only persecute us for showing such weakness. In this business you can not show fear….the others….they feed off of it, like fuckin’ vampires. It’s insane…but it’s always been that way. What I need to worry about is how I’m going to walk through this next challenge, then into BackLash. SmackDown I slipped up…something that will NEVER happen again. For one moment I failed. I failed my followers…I failed myself. I won’t let that happen again….no matter what demons I may face outside the ring, once that bell rings I walk the path that I have chosen. People believe in me, Dawn. They turn to me for guidance. ECW is dead, and so many of the faithful are still alive….just lift behind in the shadows. They need me to be their voice…to fight for them…to do the things they themselves couldn’t even dream of. You say Scott….they say Raven. I could be both or I could be neither, but it doesn’t matter. In the words of Kurt Cobain….it is better to burn out than fade away……don’t worry about me Dawn, because in the end….we all just burn out. Even me….

Raven lowers his head, laughing to himself….

'The Lost Soul' raVen: I left Richards and that retard Blue Meanie alone in the arena….I should go make sure they didn’t screw things up too badly.

'The Jersey Devil' Dawn Marie: Well…I was on my way to see Andrew erm…ha ha “Test”….I could give you a ride if you need it. It’s on the way…

'The Lost Soul' raVen: I’m fine…I think I could use the walk….but I’ll see you later.

'The Jersey Devil' Dawn Marie: Alright…take care of yourself, Scott.

Raven nods a little, turning his back to Dawn as he starts to head out. Dawn just silently watches as her friend leaves, Dawn herself somewhat scared of this depressed, suicidal person her friend Raven has become. What lies in store for ECW is unknown…but could ECW be ready for Raven as their champion? Only time will tell…