NLCW When Worlds Collide Undisputed championship Dead Man's Draw match - Isaac Reynolds(c) vs Dazz (September 28th 2008)
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He didn’t know if his eyes were deceiving him or if his mind was somehow playing tricks that could damage his perception forever. Could he really be watching this? Was it reality or just some sort of exaggerated dream created by something deep within the recesses of his brain, all that electricity and matter painting a picture of an untrue world and making it seem all too real? He was as unsure about this situation as he was just a few weeks ago when it came to the situation, the decision that came before, presenting itself to him in such a bold and forceful manner.

He was of course seated on a steel chair in a locker room, rubbing a towel against his skin to dry it after coming out of the shower, wearing a pair of loose fitting black shorts and nothing else while he tries to relax. He’d just come off a major important match to him, what he dubbed as his last in NLCW to tie up a loose end when it came to Fuel before departing. A number of things came to mind in why he was choosing to leave the company, one being the lack of respect he felt after all that time he’d spent going from the bottom of the ladder at their request, watching others sail by and yet respected by others while he seemed the odd one out in the corner of the room, waiting patiently and growing ever more frustrated. He was due to make his triumphant return to NLCW after 6 months away by coming out of the crowd dressed as his half-brother Jason Stylez, stepping into the ring after the end of the NLCW vs Saints match and raising the Undisputed championship above his head before revealing that it was him and not Jason.

All that planning and preparation went to naught though, management blocking it to have some sort of tribute to Rick Majors in his final match before retirement, something he understood and wished he could’ve been a part of since he was also a cornerstone of the company yet was never asked to come back early to be a part of. Then again though, he also felt that he needed to make that bold statement to let the world know that he was back, feeling angered when they instead suggested that due to the Majors thing happening at the ppv, he should do the same a week later instead against Fuel. Others would’ve been given the green light to hold the title aloft at the end of a big show but because it was him, that would be something that couldn’t happen under any circumstances.

He was going to go to pastures new, see what it would be like in another company that had only existed less than a year but first that matter of taking on Fuel, wanting to end the long, storied and fruitful career he’d had being a part of NLCW since the very beginning with a win over somebody who, while young and with a lot of potential, needed that unlocked and who better than somebody who had taken on the very best in this industry and helped people like The Punk and even his cousin Ryan Coleman get their first big breaks in pro wrestling, watching them become CWF International champion and continue to use his guidance before moving ahead to winning championships in NLCW. He hoped this match could set Fuel onto the right path towards finally pulling himself up and making his mark in the business, no matter how small those first steps.

The match had been decided as an Iron Man match, wanting to see if Fuel could keep up and show that he had the talents and abilities to last for 60 minutes against a veteran such as himself, for some reason another veteran and former best friend of the Messiah of Metal was added to the mix and he couldn’t even recall why. Alex Taylor had been widely known as the other half of their very successful, infamous and in some cases legendary tag team when they were a part of the most widely known lineup of Chaos A.D. back when Alex was more commonly known as Violent A, donning Insane Clown Posse style makeup and dying his short hair various colours but now had it a more natural tone and wore a brand new mask. That just meant that he had to work extra hard to defeat both men and leave as the winner, putting his NLCW career behind him by leaving on a high note still having not been beaten by Alex and putting that loss to Fuel back in LCW behind him.

All of that thinking and feeling had taken place weeks ago and tonight was the night to put all of those hopes, those goals and all thought and preparation into practice inside the ring and luckily for him, he managed to gain the only fall in the entire contest, the three of them exerting every ounce of energy into trying to not only defeat each other but also prevent each other from picking up a pin or a submission, a hard task indeed when just an ordinary one on one Iron Man contest would leave both participants exhausted and fatigued but add in a third wheel and that only increases the chances of not becoming the winner of the match. Trying to use up even more of their being to hurry back inside the ring to shove or attack an opponent to break up what could possibly become a gained fall for them, it was harder said than done, especially 45 minutes into the contest when even standing still made their legs feel weak and almost collapse underneath these men. Nevertheless, those in the audience knew and understood that and appreciated the efforts of these three men, these pure athletes, applauding them after every high impact move. In fact, not just those high risk moves one would use to make fans go absolutely crazy and break out that “holy shit” chant got these people going, so too did moves that would otherwise seem ordinary and run of the mill, a simple superplex making the loyal and very vocal fans go wild in appreciation of the difficulty in lifting an opponent onto the top turnbuckle and then following them slowly with a careful climb through wobbly legs before lifting once again to send themselves and their opponents crashing hard into the canvas of the ring.

The fatigue and the fact that every one of the three combatants secretly wished this ordeal was over helped make time feel that much slower, as was the case with anything that created impatience at finally viewing the end while the passages of time crawled to a snail’s pace purposefully, as if it were a bad job that wasn’t being enjoyed. He felt annoyance with himself for even considering this as a normal, boring 9-to-5 job because he felt privileged and extremely lucky to have made it in this business and to consider is as a regular, typical employment would be sheer madness. He’d been a huge fan of professional wrestling for his entire life and wished to do this as a career along with his band as a career and to finally be able to do this and be considered among the very best in his field for both of those passions and then consider one of them to be akin to supposedly “real” and “normal” employment would be insulting to both himself and – moreover – this industry as a whole.

He fought hard though, the trials and tribulations of such a lengthy and tiring match making his body grow weaker and wearier until finally, he managed to gain the only fall in the match, resting on the mat with his chest heaving and breath heavy as the last few seconds on the clock ticked down to zero, the bell sounding and seeming to ring in his ears constantly like an echo as he and the rest of the people in the building realised that the match was now over, ring announcer Lucinda Welch’s voice becoming a welcome relief as she announced him as the winner of the match. Those words, “here is your winner” followed by his name; it sent chills up his spine and made him swell with pride. The referee – who couldn’t tell nor remember who it was – gripped his wrist and raised his hand into the air, leaning over to ask if he was ok and needed help getting to his feet. Eventually he managed to find his feet, didn’t know how or whether he had help but there he was standing tall in the middle of the ring and soaking in the love and adulation from the fans. This was the exact reason he entered this business in the first place, to enjoy moments like this as well as put on a spectacle inside the ring, like gladiatorial combat thousands of years ago entertaining the people wishing to see extreme physicality and moments of human endurance. The Iron Man match was the very epitome and the peak of human endurance and to have three men trying to outlast the others and gain the most falls, that was something that most in the population of this world could only dream of obtaining and achieving.

Managing to walk up that ramp and into the back was surprisingly not as time consuming or as difficult as he thought even though he still felt as if his legs would collapse underneath him, sending him crashing to the floor. Luckily they didn’t and he continued moving, the act of walking alone helping him remain rigid and upright, walking past a variety of people who simply ignored him as he journeyed through the halls of the arena, almost as if he were invisible or didn’t exist or was a ghost of some kind. It didn’t matter to him though, what really mattered was the fact that he had to do everything in his power to remain on his feet until he could reach his locker room.

After some careful footsteps over long thick cables snaking along the floor like black vipers, he padded further across the concrete, reaching the locker room area and – eventually – his own room. The door remained closed tight as he trudged toward it, a slow and rhythmic march despite his unbalanced body wanting to topple over and rest where he might fall. His hand somehow found the handle, arm shaking and feeling the effects of constant grappling, lifting and pulling his own weight and opponents off the mat ready for whatever may come next. The door swung open easily and he followed it inside the room, swinging the wooden door back towards the entrance to block it, creating a barrier between himself in this room and the rest of the world out in the hallways and the rest of the building, isolated in his personal fortress.

He leant back against that door, using it as a counterbalance to his unsteadiness, not wishing to sit in case his body froze up and he couldn’t move from that position so choosing to bend, arching his back to untie his laces and remove his ring gear before his shower. This was easier said than done however as his entire body became wracked with pain, despair, anguish after going to near bursting point for a whole hour against two other opponents who wanted to win just as much as he did. He had to continue on though, making even undressing as difficult a task as he’d ever known. Finding that mystical and most sought of treasures, the Holy Grail or the Ark of the Covenant - both religious vessels with one being the cup supposedly used during the Last Supper by Jesus Christ himself while the latter being the glorious box that contained the stone tablets from which Moses announced the Ten Commandments – would surely be easier than removing his sweaty clothing and tight boots.

At last he managed this almost impossible feat and stood in just those black Speedo-like wrestling tights, tossing his ring gear across the room towards his black sports bag before staggering off to the shower area, turning the chrome dial to create a jet of water from the shower head as he crumpled to the floor below, resting against the wall as the water flowed down onto his body, muscles on every part of his anatomy throbbing as if they were about to explode.

Now in his loose shorts and resting the towel over one of his shoulders he sat with eyes glued to the monitor that rested on a small wooden table, fixated with the action going on behind that thick glass. He was of course watching the main event of the evening, the Undisputed World title match that pitted the champion Chris Logan against both Enigma – who was cashing in his rematch clause in an attempt to win it back – and “The Reality” Isaac Reynolds, a man with whom Dazz was very familiar thanks to various battles during 2007 and who had somehow managed to climb into this match and become a legitimate threat and contender to that championship.

He watched on, interest piqued as he saw the three men give it their absolute all while the fans watched on. Eventually he managed to set Chris Logan on the announce table barely conscious, entering the ring again and using his huge body mass to somehow climb to the top turnbuckle, diving off as if he were playing a cruiserweight for the night, driving a knee into Logan’s face as the announce table became disaggregated underneath the force of the impact. It was almost the same situation as the main event of Havok last year, Isaac Reynolds creating a huge impact to smash an opponent through a table and then become surrounded by referees and officials before emerging as winner and holding a championship belt aloft and proud above his head.
That was somewhat of a shock to him. Isaac Reynolds had somehow managed to find a way to win that match and show that he really did have the capability to win a major championship as people had suggested and predicted he could, winning the Undisputed World championship against two men in front of an audience of thousands packed into the building and millions watching at home. It was kind of amazing that here was this guy who last year held the American and Television championships, trying to make his way through the proverbial minefield to reach his destination as the main man in the company and now he’d made it. Dazz had been there before albeit reached such dizzying heights dozens of times and in some cases not too long after debuting for the company, in NLCW’s case merely 2 months or slightly less after signing his contract and having his debut match. Then again, he had legends surrounding him, trying to help better his career and allow the abilities he’d garnered and improved on over the years to flourish even more. Jason Stylez receiving the first title match after he’d won, Scotty Ace, Justice, Jason Wright and Matt Arren all taking their chance to try and win it when their team battled his in the War Games with whoever managing to pin Dazz winning the match and the World title and then defending in Highway to Hell II, the second installment of the match – and the first in NLCW – seeing him defend against Matt Arren, Rob Thorn, Violent A, Enigma and Ethan Andrews, all of them handpicked by Dazz other than Andrews who had earned the right to challenge anyway.

Now here he was, playing the master to Isaac’s student and being the one man capable of helping him flourish and grow as in ring competitor just as he’d received in this same company during his first main event reign. Dazz had his first reign as World champ last for around 3 months, at the time the longest World title reign in NLCW history but deep down, he wanted to see Isaac’s reign end at When Worlds Collide. He decided that leaving the company now without giving Isaac the challenge he needed as the new Undisputed champion and without giving himself one more challenge to see how he could do would be madness, pure and simple. He’d wanted to try his luck and be World Heavyweight champion again and now he would create a chance to make everybody sit up and take notice that the Dazz of old, the one that walked into the ring and made his intentions of challenging for the belt would return. It wouldn’t be the same way he interrupted Rob Thorn and traded insults with him, there was something else he could do instead, something that would be just as memorable


******


SUNDAY AUGUST 31ST 2008


The excitement managed to rise up, a weird feeling that had its origins in his feet as they began to itch and feel slightly warm and uncomfortable, his legs turning to jelly and a horrible, painful feeling of butterflies in his gut due to the thing he was about to go and do. He turned his head towards the door, watching almost mesmerised as it stayed closed tightly, complete silence engulfing the rest of this public bathroom with the cubicle doors wide open showing the white porcelain thrones with no royalty or otherwise upon them. The sounds of cheering crowds seeped into the bathroom through the half inch gap at the bottom of the door leading in and out of here as he turned to look once more into one of the mirrors directly in front of him, a white porcelain basin with chrome faucet in the middle separating him from the reflective glass.

He’d managed to sneak into the building having purchased his ticket to the show online, guaranteeing that nobody would know he was on his way here. He had to be extra secretive, make a bigger impact that way just as he had when he returned during the summer months disguised as one of his half brothers. This time he had no disguise, he was just his regular self, all long dark shoulder length hair, blue piercing eyes uncovered by his trademark Gucci sunglasses with the look completed by black street boots, designer jeans and a black t-shirt with his custom Messiah of Metal design emblazoned across the front. He gave himself one last look, combing back a little of his hair with his fingers to look good before walking across the floor with confidant strides, reaching out for the chrome handle and tugging it gently towards him, the door opening towards him as he stepped out of the bathroom.

The door gently closed with a slight thud behind him as he stood in what was now the hall of an arena, looking to his right and seeing one side of it disappearing into the distance with double doors that lead outside into the night and the streets from whence everybody come to see the show or arriving to set up for the event or even put on the show everyone paid to see. Merchandise stands were empty of crowds down that way save for those behind the desk preparing for the influx of fans wanting to buy more keepsakes and mementos from tonight. He could see the staff poring through cardboard boxes and making piles of t-shirts of all sizes at the back of their stands while lanyards and baseball caps along with replica championship belts were also set in place. To his left, more of the same only lights shone with brands of beer, soft drinks, food lit up above the food stand visible from his position, vendors walking towards it to stock up on their goods, filling their trays with peanuts, popcorn, candy and adjusting the straps around the back of their necks before stomping through to the main area of the building where the thousands of fans were sat cheering on their favourites and heckling their least favourites.

Men and women wearing white shirts and aprons continued to cook burgers, hot dogs and popcorn while huge refrigerators kept the various beverages on offer chilled at a suitable temperature to ensure that paying customers would leave satisfied with the perfect drink. Again, another merchandise stand could be seen slightly in the distance but the roar of the huge crowd from directly in front of him caught his attention while the sound of a Leonard Cohen song rang out loudly. The new NLCW Undisputed World champion Isaac Reynolds was about to make his entrance and he let a small smile crack from the otherwise stoic on concrete face. He couldn’t storm in and risk any of the fans seeing him here waiting just in case even though they’d see him eventually anyway. What he had to do was just be patient, step closer to listen to what the new champion had to say before making his intentions clear.

He took a few steps towards the large opening that led to some of the upper tiers of the floor space, a few yellow shirted arena security staff standing at that entrance while concrete steps led all the way down towards the ringside area. Blue chairs were full with a fan per seat and a sea of people as far as the eye could see, all different colours of people or clothing filling this building. The sight was certainly something to behold, enjoying it from the fan’s perspective for the first time in a very long time. He hadn’t even been to a wrestling show for a while, not in this capacity anyway and the moment he was dressed as Stylez didn’t allow him the time to take in this breathtaking sight, too busy focused on storming to the ring and making his impact against Fuel. This time though he got to look all around at the near vicinity, at the far reaches of the building where the huge Avulsion set was constructed what seemed to be miles away, even the ring looked tiny from where he was standing, his viewpoint blocked momentarily by fans standing to get a better shot for their cameras, keeping a treasured memory of the night they attended this very show.

Isaac’s voice was slow and methodical, allowing him to know that he was being as calm and thoughtful with his words since becoming champion than ever before, knowing that Reynolds wished to make the right impression to these fans who would make or break him as Undisputed champ, who would buy whatever merchandise he had to offer at the various stands situated around arenas across the globe wherever NLCW happened to be holding a show or on the official NLCW merchandise website. The fans would also determine whether or not they thought he had truly made it despite what the boys in the back or management thought, Isaac wanting to show to these paying customers that he could also be mentioned in the same breath as great NLCW World champions of past; Ethan Andrews, Rick Majors, Alex Jay, even Dazz himself who just stood watching this display and this attempt to impress the fans, knowing that despite his lack of experience as a major champion in such a big company as this or even in the industry as a whole.

Indeed, Dazz thought that Isaac was learning his craft slowly, improving every time he saw the man who called himself “The Reality” but despite the improvement in this young man, he couldn’t let this man get away with having all the spotlight tonight even if it was his first NLCW show after winning the Undisputed championship just 7 days ago. He felt bad for doing it but then hey, it happens to everybody and he himself had his fair share of interruptions upon winning the main title. He still couldn’t forget the time he had the World title stolen, taken up the ramp and a big green E spray painted onto it which would be later revealed to represent the returning Ethan Andrews wanting to hold the belt. This was it, if he was gonna interrupt this man any time soon it would have to be now before his theme music started and he begins to leave the ring, otherwise what would’ve been the point in arriving here, buying that ticket?

It was time. Drawing in a large gasp of oxygen, gulping it down into his lungs before slowly exhaling, feeling the cool air forced through his pursed lips until his chest shrank to its normal size. His mind was racing, quickening thoughts pulsing across his brain as he took his first steps, cautiously pushing past the guards and down onto the steps, feeling his legs moving of their own accord but as if he wasn’t controlling them, they were leading him down with every footstep as fans turned their heads from the ring to his direction, patting their hands against the shoulders of the person next to them, whispering and pointing as they couldn’t believe their luck. Here was a bona fide legend, a Hall of Fame inductee walking amongst them like Jesus Christ himself walked among the people of New Testament times with every eye directly on him, watching to see what he does. He had no time to turn to face them, only staring ahead of himself and hearing their questions, their words, their reactions of shock and awe that somebody as famous as he was, somebody they looked up to as a sort of saviour, as a person for whom to seek guidance through his promos or matches to maybe aid as well as entertain.

He felt the cold, hard steel of a guard rail as he walked, separating the wide steps down the middle to prevent somebody from falling and collapsing into the lap of another fan watching whatever event would be held in this building, the railing being on his left hand side with his arm and hand casually brushed against it. Eventually he reached the floor space, the rows of seats specially placed for those wishing to get an up close and personal view of the action inside that ring.

In fact, speaking of the ring, it was now much closer now he’d moved to the vicinity in which he now stood, fans shouting behind him, taking pictures as he sidled past and raising the devil horns near him, the commotion causing a cameraman and Isaac himself to turn in that direction, spotting the Messiah of Metal as he reached the protective barrier, placing his right hand upon it then raising a leg up and over, half resting atop it as he brought the other leg to join it on the other side of the reinforced and padded steel, security guards almost helpless and just standing there, whether in shock at what was taking place or just awestruck at somebody like him appearing from nowhere to enter the domain that was squarely owned by the in ring competitors and the company they worked for. If this were anybody else they’d be pounced on almost immediately but because it was Dazz, they appeared to wave him through albeit somewhat unintentionally.

His eyes remained fixed on the Undisputed champion standing inside the ring, the fixed stare being reciprocated without hesitation by Reynolds, the look on his face showing an expression of slight bewilderment without wanting to break from the intensity he wanted to put across. Dazz knew that look though, the same look that others have had before, the same look he had before, that look that showed the mind inside a person’s skull working and trying to figure out what this interrupting superstar wanted, why he was here at all. That unasked question would soon be answered in a way, how he’d do that not even he was sure himself yet but Isaac would no doubt get the message he wished to convey. Well, he hoped so.

Every single eye and camera lens were upon the two men, no doubt the Avultron and the shots at home for viewers watching from the comfort of their armchair were seeing various camera angles of the champion and the man interrupting his champion’s speech. Without hesitation or thought, Dazz reached up, taking hold of the bottom ring rope in one hand and raising his knee onto the apron, using his strength to pull his body weight up so that he could plant the second leg bent with foot firmly planted next to his knee on the ring, using the other hand to grip higher ropes until he was upright, looking over at Isaac who stood tall and imposing, sleeveless long coat seeming to both wrap around his frame while also disguising the physique which was intimidating to some members of the roster.

Isaac seemed to almost grip the championship belt even tighter across his large shoulder, keeping his eyes fixed on this unwelcome trespasser, no stranger to him of course due to last year’s altercations over two different championship belts. This time though, he was only a week into his first reign as Undisputed champion and already being interrupted by somebody he’d traded wins and losses with. To say he was happy to see Dazz standing across from him again would probably be falsified thoughts; that was the impression given anyway by the look in his eyes. Nevertheless Dazz was here regardless of Isaac’s thoughts and feelings and now it was time to step into the champion’s lair and make his presence really felt. Without skipping a heartbeat or breaking eye contact for more than a split second, Dazz was climbing between the ropes, bent under the top one before pulling his leg over the middle rope, finding himself inside the ring and walking towards Isaac. Anybody else would’ve taken the time to look at the Undisputed championship placed over his shoulder but Dazz, he was different.

There was plenty of time to stare at that championship belt in future when he held it in his own hands while he was named as champion, king of the mountain in NLCW again like he felt he deserved to be. As of right now though, the belt belonged to Isaac and Dazz had no right to touch that title nor should he let it distract him in case of a sudden punch coming his way. Instead, their staredown continued unbroken and uninterrupted, fans anxious over what could potentially happen next knowing the history these two men had over both the Television title and the American title. If it wasn’t for the occasional cheer, roar of approval for two such loved fan favourites or short chant for both men from differing sections of the crowd, clashing over their vocal support for whoever they sided with in this situation, the term “eerie silence” could have possibly been coined for this very moment.

Maybe these fans didn’t wish for a silenced hush to descend upon the arena? Only those thousands of individuals would really know the answer but to the men inside the ring, all that mattered were each other, continuing to stare with not a single care in the world for anything else, paying no mind to the immense reaction just this simple act is causing for these excited fans. Like they were in their own little world away from everybody in attendance tonight, away from everything. Dazz stared, feeling that Isaac was full of wonder at why he was there until a glint in his eyes surrendered the moment when it seemed like it finally clicked, Reynolds realising at last what this man was doing in the ring with him. Even still, Dazz continued to watch, unmoving, unwavering in his emotions and remaining glued to this spot like a statue, the occasional twitch in his eyes as he glared at Isaac, putting up a barrier in his mind and ears to block out whatever the fans may be saying at this point in time. Even as he remained fixed to the canvas, so too did Isaac, himself not moving an inch and instead ready to flinch and spring into action should Dazz attempt to hit him.

That expected blow never came though, nor would it ever. Instead Dazz, satisfied that he’d got the message across to the fans, to the viewers at home, to whoever would be the new owner of this company but more importantly to the new Undisputed World champion himself Isaac Reynolds.

Never taking his eyes off the champ in case of a retaliation to his silent message manifesting in physicality, he started to move, the champ bringing his guard up ready for battle or to protect himself from the onslaught which never came. Dazz reached the ropes, keeping his head tilted to his side and his eyes firmly locked onto Reynolds, beginning his climb through the ropes to stand on the apron, giving one last glance at near eye level before stepping off and landing with both feet on the floor, turning his entire body so that he could walk backwards, cautiously doing so to avoid stumbling but uncaring for anybody that might be walking up behind him, instead continuing his silent gaze at Isaac as he made his way up the ramp, only turning away once upon the stage near the curtain, stepping through and disappearing from the vision of those in the seats and that imposing man in the ring holding a championship belt.

He managed to walk past those staff members in Gorilla position, ignoring them as they and others employed by the company, including those wrestlers getting ready to compete next or passing time until their time to address the fans either inside the ring or out of it watched and stared at him, as unbelieving in their vision of the Messiah as everybody was when he first emerged from the crowd out in that main area of the building. It seemed his actions, even if a word hadn’t been spoken, a fight hadn’t broken out, had made a major impact and sent shockwaves throughout NLCW. As far as they knew he’d had his final NLCW match last week at 1NE when he defeated Fuel and Alex Taylor and was now supposed to be in the supposed “greener pastures”, he shouldn’t be here in NLCW making himself known to the new Undisputed World champion, interrupting his address to the fans. It was too late though, he’d allowed Reynolds to know that he was still hungry to become “the man” again, still never being repaid for that last World title reign he’d had back in 2005 and now having to create an opportunity to be on top of the NLCW world again rather than continue to sit back, work his ass off and still amount to nothing while management handpicked the next challenger or brought back those who spent more time away from the company than in it to be the number one contender. It made no sense to him but at least now he managed to leave an impression and remind everybody why he was and is still considered as one of the foundations, the cornerstones of NLCW, being there from the beginning, making it what it is today yet for some reason…….it didn’t matter though, right now all that mattered was that he would finally be taken seriously as the legend and the main event superstar that he was.

He walked through the back of the building, finding the parking lot having been in this building in more than his fair share of shows over the years but then coming to the realisation that his car wouldn’t be here, he hadn’t driven in the back way as he usually would because he wasn’t even expected and if he’d gotten the clearance from the upper echelon of NLCW’s Board of Directors then it would’ve leaked down that he would be appearing here and he didn’t want that. He’d parked in a parking lot somewhere near the side of the building, all he had to do was just exit out the back and somehow make his way around to wherever he’d left hi vehicle, passing security guards as he continued and standing out in the cool night air, a slight breeze washing over him, a stark contrast to the warmth and intense light inside that building. Street lights showed him the way, shining a hint of orange mixed with the black of the sky creating an aura atop the steel posts jutting out from the ground giving light and a view in the dark for those walking or driving around here.

He walked, feeling excited at what he’d achieved here tonight even if his intentions were somewhat clouded by a curiosity that hung in the air as to what his business was with Isaac. It didn’t matter though, he knew that those fans, despite him being one of the first things they’d seen tonight, would still remember this for a long while to come and that was the real beauty of something so simple. He didn’t need to wield a baseball bat and swing it repeatedly at Isaac’s head nor did he need to cut an insulting promo that put himself and his abilities over, just the simple act of standing there staring eye to eye with the champion in complete silence for a few moments before leaving the ring with not a word uttered and not a punch thrown had the crowd in the palm of his hand and that was exactly what he enjoyed. Wrestling wasn’t just about who could prove tougher than the next guy nor was it about how much blood you could spill, it was about giving the fans something to cheer for and what transpired tonight certainly lived up to that. He finally managed to turn a corner and catch sight of his car, taking out the keys and unlocking it before taking rest in the driver’s seat. It was funny, he was in the driver’s seat in that arena and now literally, he was in the driver’s seat thinking back and feeling a smile emerge on his face at the sheer enormity of the situation. Isaac was no doubt in his locker room about now wondering what the hell happened and what he could do about Dazz interrupting him but as for right now, mission accomplished. Now to think what he could do next week in an attempt to maybe top this night.


SUNDAY SEPTEMBER 7TH 2008


That would come within 7 days, once again inside an arena waiting by the food stands and merchandise tables as fans chanted and cheered, Isaac Reynolds in the ring a second time talking about being the champion amongst other things, only to find himself distracted as for a second week in a row he became distracted by groups of fans, watching as what seemed to be a moving mass of people snaking down the concrete stairs towards the ringside area hid the treasure within, finally spotting that unmistakable person heading towards the ring and the champion himself, long hair resting on the black Messiah of Metal t-shirt as fans crowded round him, wanting a piece of his very soul and feeling excited to have a legend in their midst within touching distance. He couldn’t see his face from where he was standing but Dazz could be sure that Isaac was probably rolling his eyes at the thought of once again having this Hall of Fame inductee coming towards him a second time in as many weeks.

Hopping the barrier, Dazz once again climbed into the ring slowly and cautiously in case this time, Reynolds really did try to attack him but, just as was the case last week, any attack failed to materialise. It seemed unusual, feeling that Isaac would have wanted a reprieve for last week but it never happened, instead Reynolds just stood completely still on the spot, dropping the microphone to the mat as Dazz once again stood directly in front of him, another silent staring contest while fans again lapped it up before that rousing cheer quickly turned into a chorus of booing, Dazz and Isaac oblivious to what could be the cause of this reaction until finally seeing yellow mixed in with black and white. Voices suddenly heralded the arrival of several arms, bodies and faces, only then noticing that they were being not only surrounded by an army of security and referees but also being pulled apart from one another, these men stepping in between them and jostling them to opposite sides of the ring, pleading with them to just leave and not do anything even though they hadn’t planned on laying a finger upon each other.

The whole situation had gone from the message from last week being reiterated to a swathe of bodies pulling them away from each other for fear of sudden and extreme violence. It was a total disaster, a mess of public relations that had caused these paying fans to go from wholehearted cheers and excitement to disappointment and hatred for these men breaking up the little party in the hope that possibly they could have seen both Dazz and Isaac try to tear each other apart as they had done this time last year while they battled over the American championship.

Aha, that’s why the officials were sent to separate them. Last year’s war between the two men had put the frighteners in management and caused them to react so readily and so quickly to this second similar situation between the pair. It made sense of course but why deny the fans something so big as yet another Dazz and Reynolds wordless confrontation? The two men seemed to struggle to remove the many hands placed upon them, wanting to break free since they had no intentions of doing battle just yet. Dazz himself became the first to relent, growing ever more obvious and aware of the fact that these people crowded between himself and Isaac would not budge an inch and would continue to gently and casually shove them back if they attempted to wade through and meet in the middle to continue their face to face interaction. Due to that, he had no choice but to oblige and become the first to leave the ring, a wall of referees and security helping to protect him even though he needed none in case Reynolds chose to take that moment as his opportunity to blast through the mass of people and reach Dazz, charge like a rocket blasting through the atmosphere of NLCW’s own staff, as if he were a heat seeking missile trained to aim at Dazz and not stop or pause to catch a breath until his assimilated target had been annihilated.

Dazz managed to use a hand to keep his balance as he climbed out of the ring and stepped onto the floor, several members of this wall surrounding him and holding him back should he try and slide back into the ring to fight but he felt no need. What surprised him was that he noticed Isaac was still glued to the very spot he’d been dragged and pushed to by security. He hadn’t budged and continued his staring, vision fixed on Dazz. It felt as though even Reynolds himself had quickly grown tired with these people butting into their little tête-à-tête without even consulting the two men it concerned. His thoughts were jumbled, on the one hand a deep sense of anger and rage within him for having this moment interrupted and the two forced apart and backstage when they had no plans to fight – well, Dazz didn’t anyway, he couldn’t say the same for Isaac unless he gained a telepathic ability recently – but on the other hand he felt a sort of happiness that because of their rivalry last year, management had panicked and sent people out to quell any form of violence before it reared its ugly and vicious head, plus it also helped that the fans seemed to lap it up even more and become even more agitated in needing to see these two men go at it with the ferocity that they provided almost exactly a year ago.

Indeed, while at first they booed this party pooper mentality performed by the officials, they were now ecstatic and cheering the men on to somehow find a way to escape the clutches and suddenly go at one another. It probably made good television and again, if fans walked away tonight happy, remembering this moment and desperate to see what they would do next and if it encouraged them to pay good money to order the massive When Worlds Collide event to see them battle for that Undisputed World championship then so be it, let security become like human crowbars prying them apart, let them drag Dazz and Isaac away from each other and at separate ends of the arena once backstage to make sure they didn’t start brawling suddenly. Let them be the spanner in the works causing these two fighting machines to slow down to a halt and save any physicality until they were repaired and fully functional.

It would help their cause anyway if they waited and were split apart now, giving not only them as wrestlers but management and more importantly the fans something incredible to look forward to. For the first time since last week when he turned away from Isaac while walking through the curtain after the initial staredown, Dazz moved his eyes toward another direction, knowing that the wall of people crowded around him would keep him intact and that those with Isaac inside the ring would also prevent him from leaving to charge up the ramp at the Messiah of Metal who seemingly now was the challenger and number one contender to that Undisputed title regardless of the fact he hadn’t uttered a word this last fortnight.

He was taken to the back, looking around as those same staff sitting in front of the monitors tried to simultaneously direct the editors and cameramen to get the right shots of the ringside area before the big Dade Midvalley and Chris Logan confrontation that was to come next while also turning to face him with a look of absolute shock at his second week interrupting Isaac, the corners of their mouths turning upwards slightly in a grin of pleasure at the fact that these two fan favourites, as over with the fans as two people could possibly get, were bringing in tons of money and revenue with this silent double act. He walked past them, watching as a flame haired beauty by the name of Jesse Kwik stood in tiny black shorts and matching top that looked more like a sports bra, barely covering her assets with long red hair hanging over her shoulders and chest, looking at him with her big blue eyes, perhaps a look of extreme attraction for this legend. He didn’t pay her any mind though, he was a happily married man but threw a smile in her direction anyway as a gesture of friendliness and politeness before being escorted by the gathering of referees and security towards the parking lot area.

He had wanted to stay and try to see what would happen next before the show ended but since they were so determined to toss him out quickly before things between him and Isaac escalated into something hideous and destructive, he had to go along with their plans and didn’t bother to put up much of a struggle, instead going peacefully and without objection.


SUNDAY SEPTEMBER 14TH 2008


It was time for his close up once again, his face being beamed all over the planet as NLCW Avulsion aired on every continent either live or in taped form days later in some areas of the world. It felt weird and unusual, being out there regularly, closing the show in the build and hype towards a major championship match, having not done something like this for maybe 4 years. The other reason it somehow felt unusual was because for the last few weeks he’d interrupted Isaac in the ring purely by the sight of him walking through the crowd of admirers and wrestling fanatics becoming excited at the presence of somebody of his talent amongst them but now this time, he was going to interrupt from the backstage area, walking down the ramp like everybody else in the company usually did when striding to the ring, his new entrance theme blaring over the PA system and he’d even planned to break his vow of silence and cut a promo, exchange words with the Undisputed champion regarding their match.

Reynolds as always was already in the ring, addressing the fans in his inimitable style. Dazz could see him on the various monitors at Gorilla position, varying different camera angles shown of the ringside area, some monitors showing the floor, others showing the ring, others trained on the fans for their reactions while others kept the main man in NLCW on screen at all times. The championship belt was wrapped around his waist, the lights reflecting from above the ring and spots all over the ceiling up in the rafters causing the gold and platinum to give off bright white or yellow light, moving and lighting up different portions of the belt itself. The light even shone on his black leather coat, reflecting in his sunglasses as he walked around the ring talking about his challenger, about defending the title. He was improving slightly in his vocal skills on the microphone as much as he was inside the ring athletically. Such a shame he had to interrupt and break the flow and concentration from within the ring.

He’d given the guys in the production truck a copy of the song he’d be using from now on, discarding Strapping Young Lad’s “The New Black” after just a few months. It wasn’t that he didn’t like that song in particular, he just used it as filler until he could choose a new track from the new Metallica album, Death Magnetic, having not heard a single thing from it at the time to make the decision. The men seated here gave their cue through the microphones on their headsets and the arena was plunged into complete darkness, cutting off Isaac’s in ring promo and sending chills up the spine of the Messiah of Metal, looking forward to hearing how his new choice would sound and the carefully planned and rehearsed entrance he’d talked over with the Fire Marshall employed by NLCW for the purpose of pyrotechnics and their regular pyro guy along with others in charge of the show.

It started in earnest with heavy guitars, bass and pounding drums, even those seated watching the monitors managed to find short moments to announce their like of the song even if they weren’t the purveyors of rock or heavy metal that he was. He turned, smiling at them before climbing the short steel staircase up onto the side of the stage, disappearing through the curtain into the absolute darkness to take up his position near the ramp, butterflies again awakening deep within him as the impatience at experiencing his brand new entrance in front of the worldwide audience tuned into the show grew bigger, stronger.

BOOM!!

Showtime.


LATER THAT NIGHT…..


It had gone extremely well, the two of them exchanged their words with Dazz doing most of the talking, the fans whether they supported him or Isaac agreeing with every single word uttered. Isaac of course playing it cool and not wanting to come across as being inexperienced as the main champ who had all eyes of the company and its fans set squarely on him, looking to him as the guy to lead NLCW into a potential new era as all World and Undisputed champions wherever they were employed in the world were thought of. He’d been atop that mountain many times, entering double digits long, long ago, managing to his knowledge 2 Undisputed title reigns and 23 World Heavyweight title reigns in his career thus far.

Of course he was young and had to learn the hard way himself what it was like, how to handle himself in a respectable manner, especially as champion, and lead by example. Sure a lot of the times he threw that rulebook out the window after tearing it, wiping his ass with it and just did his own thing as part of Chaos A.D. but now he’d grown older and learned from a lot of his mistakes, he had now become a wise and hard working champion, if only he had a title belt to make it official and give him the acceptance to conduct himself as that kind of champion. That’s if he won of course in a few weeks time because he’d been there before, heading into a title match as the challenger, acting as if he’d won already and then somehow he’d lose. He’d told those coming up in the business that it was the way to think heading into a battle for a major championship or any championship and that they’d win due to the exuding of confidence but truth be told, he’d only realised recently that a lot of the time, that may not be the best course of action.

Not to say he wasn’t thinking he’d win but he didn’t want to imagine himself losing either, in fact he was playing it neutral and becoming more concerned with putting on an incredible match for the fans than actually winning the belt even though winning it would give him that boost he needed, that respect he’d craved for the last 3 or 4 years from those in NLCW and make him the hot commodity within this company that he once was. If he had to go through Isaac Reynolds to achieve that then it didn’t matter to him, at the end of the day any hatred, any ill will and any thoughts of destroying this man physically so that he might need a wheelchair to get around were gone. What happened in the past was going to stay firmly in the past, anybody who considers themselves as anything but the lowest of the low, scum like those teenagers who pick up guns and ammunition and go on a rampage in their school as some form of twisted retribution knew that rule of humanity and moved on with their lives, as did he with his rivalry with Reynolds.

Yes he wanted to continue battling with Isaac over the Undisputed title for months if needed, even take it all the way to the biggest event in the NLCW calendar year Slamfest, something which no doubt the fans wanted, which Dazz himself wanted but would Isaac and management man up and admit that these two men would single handedly make the event a sellout with them in the main event for the Undisputed championship? Who knows but as of right now, while he wanted to best Isaac and defeat him in the ring, he had nothing but the utmost respect for the man too, not wanting him too hurt or injured so that they could hopefully put on another show stealing contest in the near future regardless of the outcome at When Worlds Collide.

He walked to the back of the building having disappeared away from the others once the show had gone off the air, wanting some time to himself. In the distance he heard the sounds of vehicles driving away, the talent and staff leaving while the road crew began their disassembly of the entire stage set and ring, packing the huge television cables into flight cases neatly rolled up. Eventually finding a quiet area with a seat and something to lean on – in this case a big black box that housed something of which he didn’t know nor was curious to look inside to find out – with a gentle sigh leaving his body. The war of words had awoken somewhat of a beast inside him after so many years, being able to convey his emotions and heartfelt thoughts and feelings with the fans behind him every step of the way, with this young Undisputed champion standing before him taking in what he was saying while also shooting back with his own take on what was being said.

It truly felt like it was a memorable moment, the two having had their silent confrontations for two weeks straight and them, rather than start throwing punches or trying to hurt each other before the big dance, were standing having an adult conversation with no hostilities, just one up and coming star and one legend, both still in their 20s with a huge difference in experience both in the industry itself and as a key player and guaranteed money making draw. What Dazz had said was truth though, Isaac was indeed talented no doubt but so far had left that untapped, seeming to coast on the words that others had to offer, telling him he was good but not doing anything to prove that or even better than and become great.

It didn’t matter if Isaac became angry or upset at him for what he was saying because deep down, whether he wanted to admit it or not, Reynolds truly was underachieving compared to what potential Dazz could see in him. He may have said that he was Undisputed champion for a reason, having defeated Enigma and Chris Logan to become champ but it was one thing to beat them and entirely different having to walk into an event against somebody of the caliber that Dazz was, having people who were nothing but “yes” men telling him he was the greatest, telling him he was the very best that NLCW had to offer, running the risk of feeding Isaac enough to gain an ego. Yes he was the best the company had to offer, that’s why he was Undisputed champ after earning it in a match against two opponents but of course despite that, having the title allowed him to see he was the best right now and people constantly telling him how great he was, how he could beat anybody, that would only make him use that potential even less. He’d seen it himself many times, holding that first NLCW World title he earned while being a part of his legendary group Chaos A.D. and having the gang mentality to wreak havoc while also confining himself amongst the rest of the group with some members treating him like a god, almost worshipping him with others within the company behind the scenes going all out to provide him with whatever he desired.

Did it hurt him in a way? Yes it did, having to prove himself as an in ring competitor and as a regular human being after causing disillusionment amongst the rest of the company and even those who didn’t know him, watching his actions on television, on ppv and in the occasional radio interview. Those who didn’t want to believe the stories about him managed to find him with his cohorts in clubs and bars and discovered that the arrogant, egotistical World champion shtick was true, those were the very fans he struggled for years to win back, taking what seemed like forever to have them back on his side and smiling as he heard them out in force maybe an hour ago. That was what he wanted Isaac to avoid, alienating those fans that loved and respected him now and would continue to support him as long as he remained the person he currently was. He worried though, worried that if he were to win that championship then perhaps Isaac may become disappointed and feel like a failure, feel as if those same fans would desert him for losing the championship even though they wouldn’t, they’d cheer him on until he regained it again.

That was exactly why he was glad to be the first challenger Isaac had as Undisputed World champion because Dazz knew all too well the perils and pitfalls of being the World champion, of being the Undisputed champion who had to lead the company and having anybody who wouldn’t normally praise him suddenly proclaim him to be the greatest wrestler in the world. Ego and disappointment go hand in hand, being fed words that are more than just encouragement until the feeling of not being able to die or lose or thinking you’re invincible and better than anybody before or since, the sign of weakness that inevitably leads to losing a major match, an important event ending in bitter disappointment and resentment. He wanted Isaac to avoid all of that and tried to help by telling him that he was talented, he wasn’t using that potential but yet he couldn’t let himself think too highly of his abilities because, even though he was now the guy everybody wanted to beat to become the new NLCW Undisputed World champion, he still had a lot to learn and that the only time a wrestler ever stops learning about this business he or she loves so much is the day they die, professional wrestling being one of the few pursuits and careers where a person involved can continue learning more not just from their very first day in training but throughout their career and even in retirement when they finally get a chance to see the industry from a fresh perspective.

He sighed, continuing to sit leaning against the box, wondering exactly how he could get himself prepared for such a huge event. The Dead Man’s Draw match would be horrific in ways that even he couldn’t even comprehend. It wasn’t that it was even as violent as matches he’d competed in before but the mere fact that it was unpredictable caused a kind of fear instilled within him. He’d created it purely out of the fact he didn’t want just a usual contest for such a hugely important championship and considering that the fans seemed to love the idea of Dazz and Isaac Reynolds together in the same ring again – two huge fan favourites that gained the biggest reactions amongst fans so far in a very long time recently – then there had to be a match that hadn’t been done before that could encapsulate the enormity of this situation.

Last year they’d competed against one another one on one in regular matches and in a hardcore match and had even been involved in a 4 cage, 10 man War Games contest on opposing teams, this time just an ordinary one on one just wouldn’t seem to cut it now. That was why, rather than try to go to the very extreme, finding a stipulation which bordered on illegal or insane, he figured he’d combine aspects in the most unpredictable way he could think of. Since he’d noticed Isaac in the past playing poker with some of the boys in the back and remembered the legend of Wild Bill Hickock being murdered during a card game, creating the legend of the Dead Man’s Hand, then he figured professional wrestling could have their own version of that, a contest where instead of knowing what they’d be competing in, they’d have to guess and prepare for anything.

The whole idea would be to not only try to gain the pin fall but that if one wasn’t gained within 10 minutes then the stipulation would change. To what, that wouldn’t be known by anybody but those in charge of the company who would then relay that information to the referee and the ring announcer during the course of the match, the champion and the challenger not having a clue what they could be letting themselves in for. It could be anything, a typical wrestling contest, a submission match, cage match, ladder match, TLC, hardcore, there could even be a Hell in a Cell structure above the ring ready and waiting just in case that came into play during the course of the match. No matter what the stipulation may be, he knew that he and Isaac would most certainly blow the roof off the building the moment that Isaac agreed to the match, wanting it to become the most anticipated and exciting match not only for this fresh new championship but also Match of the Year. Hell there was no reason why it couldn’t become one of those matches that goes down in history as one of the greats. But that would have to wait a few weeks before they tried to amaze the fans, until then there was the small matter of organising the various interviews and appearances to promote the event.


SUNDAY SEPTEMBER 21ST 2008


It was a hectic week ever since last Sunday, people wanting to know more about the match he’d announced but he couldn’t do anything about it. He’d already told the world about it the moment he told Isaac inside the ring and he didn’t know any more about it, the rest was up to management to decide which stipulations would take place during When Worlds Collide, he was completely oblivious and as far from the finer details as everybody asking him those many repetitive questions. It felt strange that somehow, despite telling everybody how little else he knew about the stipulations involved in his title match and despite becoming slightly bored of talking about how he thought Isaac Reynolds was talented that people would continue to enquire about these very subjects repeatedly. It were as if he had told them about the Titanic sinking into the cold icy depths of the Atlantic ocean and was asked more about it, asked about a particular passenger and their actions before the ship set sail, during the voyage and their attempted escape while it was sinking after hitting an iceberg. The fact was, while he knew the basics and had made sure that everybody else knew exactly what he’d created, he didn’t know details, he knew as much as they did.

Could he explain it any better? Not at all; like he couldn’t explain why Enigma was blaming him for anything. The fact was here was a guy who attacked Fuel, unmasking him and leaving him bloody and almost broken on the stage, having some kind of animosity towards the man to perpetrate such an assault and then, strangely enough, managed to single handedly blame Dazz for the attack, claiming the blood was on his hands. For what reason was it on his hands? What had he done exactly? He had no idea and would probably never know, all he had to go on was the fact that for some reason Enigma blamed him for the Projekt Mayhem attack on a man who wasn’t expecting it, claiming Dazz had somehow “stolen his spot” by challenging Isaac Reynolds for the Undisputed World championship.

Stolen his spot? Was he really making such an outlandish claim? He’d lost the championship to Chris Logan, had his shot at trying to win it back – which he failed as made obvious by the fact that Isaac Reynolds was now Undisputed champion - and was currently the reigning Television champion, having more than enough on his plate with defending that on a weekly basis, although even then he’d broken those rules of the belt by not defending it in a while. To then say that Dazz was at fault for taking his deserved shot at the gold after having given up the World title 3 years ago without defending it due to personal and health issues and having not been allowed his chance at a rematch since when he asked, he was told by management and the roster to get to the back and start from the bottom, he was certainly not ready to just give it up over issues another person may be suffering mentally to make him believe in such bullshit to put it in layman’s terms

Something else that slightly bothered him was the fact that due to the actions he and Isaac performed against one another last year, trying to cause extreme harm and injury, Dazz even picking up a scar that would be with him forever during one of their more brutal in-ring battles, suddenly the referees were refusing to become involved in the match. How could they have such a hotly anticipated and contested match if there wasn’t an official to call the action and ensure that the fans saw a winner and a loser then how could it go ahead?

They were threatening to go on strike, willing to work the other matches on the card but not theirs. How could this be? Theirs was the most important match at When Worlds Collide and yet these people, these pillars of truth, defenders of the rules and officiators of the mat wars were now all of a sudden refusing to do their duty. It would be like if Chris Logan or Dade Midvalley or whoever happened to be running the company now suddenly decided a week before the event that When Worlds Collide couldn’t happen because they refused to work that night. Imagine that, the fans getting worked up over something as huge and as empowering as the Dead Man’s Draw match for the Undisputed championship and suddenly the regulars inside the ring that, well, regulated the athletes to keep them within the boundaries of the rules were now having no part in the main event.

There had to be a way to ensure that the show must go on somehow because to disappoint the fans, to disappoint the cable companies who purchased the rights worldwide to air the event and to disappoint the two men who would do battle once again for the biggest prize in professional wrestling would be incomprehensible. It would be utter madness to even consider doing this if he were a referee, knowing that yes they were dangerous and wanting to murder each other last year but now there was a respect, a sense of justice and duty between them which kept them on the straight and narrow and enlightened them to the fact that they didn’t need to try to destroy one another, they could instead just use their naturally God given talents to have an actual wrestling match, a contest to decide just who was the better man on that particular night. There was no need to drag out whatever weapons they had at their disposal when they had dangerous and deadly weapons already, namely their limbs and their ability to grapple, use their strengths well. Isaac was of course stronger and slightly harder to topple than Dazz but then the Messiah of Metal was faster and had not only speed and experience on his side but also his martial arts background to fall back on if he needed to weaken Isaac before he could take him down with his grappling and submissions expertise.


******


Placing his guitar down on the stand nearby, he stood up and pushed his finger against the switch that turned the amplifiers off, putting his green guitar pick down on top of it then walking across the floor of the small room filled with guitars and equipment. He opened the door and left this room, walking along the hall of his home with its wooden flooring looking freshly cleaned as always and allowing his footsteps upon it to echo slightly as he walked towards the staircase, descending the white steps to the downstairs area. It felt empty and desolate, Faith having taken her son out for a few hours while he waited for the friends he invited over, the four of them in a band with which they had no name currently, writing songs together but not taking it seriously enough to play any gigs or make any serious recordings just yet. That was what they’d be talking about, whether they’d wanna take it further or keep it as an informal thing until further notice. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to have another band, the fact was that he missed making and performing music for fans to enjoy and use to help them through certain difficult or happy times, creating a bubble from which to use those songs as the soundtrack to their lives.

He sat in his white armchair, the warm Californian sun streaming into the room through the windows as he thought about recent events. His verbal and non verbal exchanges with Isaac Reynolds had helped put himself back in the main event spotlight, confirming his status as a legitimate legend and star of this company and the professional wrestling business as a whole. It also helped to propel Isaac himself to a higher plateau, the Undisputed World champion of course being in the public eye as far as the fans were concerned since winning the title after becoming one to watch as he worked his way up the ranks but thanks to the man challenging him at When Worlds Collide, he would now be a major focus of the company too.

He enjoyed it, helping those coming up or finding their feet to understand and be prepared for the big time. He’d done it before over the years, trying to help people like The Punk, Fuel, helping to get even Alex Taylor and Souless to change from rookies without a clue how to use their talents to men who ended up either holding the World championship in NLCW a few times or winning the first Road 2 Slamfest tournament and receiving a World title shot at Slamfest respectively. The only thing is that Isaac had already been talked and hyped up as this huge star in the making for a while, seemingly being said to be one of the future greats while everybody else tended to become ignored, making way for this guy. Dazz meanwhile, having got tired of this, decided to step in not only to get that Undisputed championship but also to provide some sort of reality to “The Reality” in case his head swelled to epic proportions due to the constant ass kissing he had received for over a year from everybody else in NLCW.

The Undisputed World championship itself came to mind. For years it had been the World Heavyweight championship but now, ever since last year’s Slamfest, it morphed into the championship that Isaac now held. That was due to Rick Majors, that pillory of cruiserweight ferocity and ability, had won last year’s Road 2 Slamfest tournament, challenging for the World title while still holding the Cruiserweight title, deciding that since nobody seemed to want that championship then sadly, it would have to go and he would have to be known as not only the greatest Cruiserweight champion in history but also the last to hold the NLCW Cruiserweight belt, having it merged with the World Heavyweight title the moment he won the Slamfest main event. It was a good job that Dazz had held that title in the past but a shame that he hadn’t had the memorable reign that Rick himself had, giving it up during a time of anger and frustration at the company and so not even having a match in which he lost the gold.

Then again, with Rick Majors as the first holder of this new Undisputed championship then it would’ve seemed like things would look up from there but then again, professional wrestling really wasn’t as simple and straightforward as that. There were good champs, bad champs, talented champs, not so talented champs and now currently Isaac, someone who did have talent and so far seemed to be somewhat of a good champion but hadn’t exactly set the world alight. Sure he held the most important championship in NLCW in his possession but he hadn’t defined himself as a champion, hadn’t done anything other than stand across the ring from Dazz either in silent wonder at why he was interrupting him or trying to put across that he wasn’t the kind of champion to rest on his laurels or refuse a challenge while most of the focus and attention happened to fall upon his challenger who instead somehow ended up showing how great he could be when he had found his stride after so long seemingly lost at sea and not able to put across his talents and gifts.

Did he mean to take the spotlight from Isaac? No of course not, it wasn’t his fault that people concentrated on what he’d do or say next rather than what the champion was up to; indeed apart from the in ring exchange where Reynolds had declared that as champion he’d gladly accept the challenge for the Dead Man’s Draw match, he’d barely spoken a word. No interviews, no special television appearances. It were almost as if he was either spending all his time in the gym training for this match, the biggest contest of his life and career thus far perhaps, or just sitting at home wondering what on earth he could do to somehow drag that attention back onto himself. Meanwhile Dazz sat back, thinking about all the training he’d done lately, having time to do so after walking out in a rage from the company he’d hoped to compete in as an alternative to NLCW, going back and forth between the shows that both companies held after being enticed to remain in NLCW to go after that Undisputed title and finding that, upon stating his enjoyment of his new employer yet explaining the reasons he felt unhappy and disillusioned already after only 3 months there – more things wrong in that short time than he’d found in his 4 and a half years in NLCW – and then finding himself attacked from all sides, ostracised and alienated by these new people he thought would become longtime friends and peers, then that wasn’t the place for him until he both saw that things had changed for the better and also received an apology from those who did him wrong and forced him to quit until further notice.

He did like the place and hoped he could still be a part of it in future but those actions helped make up his mind that he may be better off where he’d been for years where he’d finally get a chance at the Undisputed championship rather than be in a place that seemed to have a locker room dosed to the eyeballs on Kool Aid, not seeing a single problem even though he – as a veteran who had been in the business a lot longer than most of their roster including the guy supposedly in charge and in control of the company and also having been in charge of a much larger and more successful wrestling company again longer than the owner of this place had been in the wrestling industry – blatantly saw the obvious. He hadn’t even launched a scathing attack on the place either, just offering some friendly tips and advice and being honest about his feelings rather than turning to the path others had chosen more recently by becoming bitter and using vicious barbs towards the company. In fact here he was ready to take what he felt he deserved in possibly what could be one of the greatest matches in recent years against a talented athlete and yet it was several years ago where he bitterly proclaimed the place to be anything but harmonious and fair. He’d changed his perception and noticed the changes made, especially since James L Rockingwell had been ousted as owner, and those changes were for the better, enjoying his time here again as he had done so many years before.

Perhaps if he went back to this other place and became somehow adopted into one of two wrestling families that pretty much held every single championship there he’d be noticed and accepted? Then again, with an owner that made hilariously inaccurate accusations – why would he join another company that he had no desire or time to work for? – and a locker room that took his friendly advice and slight irritations as personally as if they’d just witnessed him murder their entire family and group of friends then he was glad to remain here in NLCW. He’d famously stated during mid 2004 that he enjoyed the place so much having helped build it into what it is today that whether he retired from action or went elsewhere to compete, the day that it was announced NLCW would be closing for good would be the day he would return, build up for a major World championship main event match in which he’d love to compete and then be the last one left to switch off the lights and lock the door behind him once everyone else was gone.

That still rang true even today despite the various problems he’d encountered with the company pretty much every year he’d been here, having short periods of time where he disliked a certain thing happening and wished he could do something to change it for the better but becoming frustrated when he wasn’t able to. He could go and compete in other companies if he wished but there were two with which his heart would always belong, his own former company and NLCW. He relaxed in his seat, resting back against the soft cushions and exhaling. It was quiet and peaceful, a nice calm day to relax and enjoy the solitude until his band mates arrived, the serenity shattered suddenly by something that made him jump slight and lunge forwards in the chair. It sounded like glass breaking, coming from the kitchen area. What could have fallen though?

Pushing himself up to his feet using his hands against the sides of the chair for balance and something sturdy with which to bring himself to a standing position, he first looked towards the kitchen’s direction before walking across the lounge, past the coffee table until reaching a white wooden door, opening it and stepping into the kitchen. He looked around, the black marble of the counter top snaking around above white cupboards while above the counter rested more cupboards fixed firmly to the walls. A black cooker sat amongst it all on the island in the middle of the kitchen while a wooden and white painted wall acted as a sort of fortress separating the cooking area with the dining room table and chairs. It seemed that the glass had fallen off this table although he hadn’t placed anything on it before he played his guitar and the last person to use this room was Faith but she’d left after washing the dishes in their dishwasher and putting a few of the utensils away neatly, so how could a glass have found itself from one of the cupboards and onto the table for it to fall off and shatter on the floor?

It all seemed a little weird, worthy of an investigation by Kojak maybe or the mysterious character from the play “An Inspector Calls”. Looking around he found no cause for it to be there or to crash to the ground as it had. Then something startled him that caused him to almost jump out of his skin. Seated at the table was a small brown demon-like creature with big yellow eyes, huge bat ears and a contorted smile. It looked like a living gargoyle, sneering at him through yellow stained teeth, sharp and pointy like daggers until a raspy voice shook his very core, such was its hint of menace.

Demon: Good afternoon.

For such a polite greeting it sure sent chills up his spine and became twisted coming from his demonic voice.

Demon: Care to play a little game?

He didn’t understand what kind of game he meant, watching as cards suddenly appeared on the table stacked in its full deck with red backing to entice him into sitting down, unaware of what might happen but curious enough to find out exactly what was to happen next. Taking his place at the table he watched, a sudden plume of smoke and he was suddenly joined at the table by a man with long dark hair, bushy mustache and beard and covered from head to toe in the type of typical clothing worn in 19th century America and found in Western movies. He chewed on something which Dazz couldn’t see in his mouth as he stared, brown eyes surrounded by tough and weather beaten skin, the demon just laughing at the reaction that the Messiah of Metal had at this newcomer’s sudden arrival.

Demon: Meet Wild Bill Hickock.

Wild Bill, the name seemed familiar. He just couldn’t place it for some reason but he definitely recognised the name from somewhere. The cards began to move of their own accord, dealing themselves between the two men and the evil looking creature as he watched on startled. Hours later they still seemed to be unmoving, several games of poker being played with this one last hand to play; whoever lost would be going down to the infernal damnation from whence the creature came. They showed their cards, the demon placing down what he had, smiling as Dazz did the same and noticed that he would certainly seem to lose if Wild Bill laid down a better hand. He began placing each card down with force against the table one at a time, first a gentle cough before moving his hand and allowing the demon and Dazz to take a look at the cards he had on the table. Dazz looked with a slight expression of recognition.

The Dead Man’s Hand from legend, right there in front of him along with Wild Bill lying motionless, dead for a second time as the last card fluttered down onto the table. He couldn’t see what the last card was, the bullet hole and the blackened and singed card preventing them from seeing what that last one could have been. The demon just smiled, reaching over and taking Wild Bill’s lifeless arm before nodding at Dazz and staring at the floor. Dazz looked and saw an opening that sucked the outlaw deep into wherever it might lead, disappearing as horrific screams reached out from the blackness. He hole closed up and Dazz looked at the demon with a look of terror on his face from the terrifying screams he’d just heard. The demon just smiled at him, a crooked grin.

Demon: Don’t worry, I just sent him to Hell, after all that is where the loser of the game had to go.

This creature seemed to take pleasure in the fact that a man was taken down to the very fiery pits where Satan himself reigned supreme along with his other fallen angels and demonic followers, screams of the damned whose lives of recklessness and immoral upbringing had caused them to fall into the fire and brimstone realm while those pure of heart and soul went the opposite way to Heaven. He rose up from his chair, pushing it backwards and starting to back away from the table, the creature remaining in his position unmoving. Just then Dazz lost his balance, falling backwards but instead of hitting the solid floor he found himself falling, almost as if it were lasting forever, freefalling through utter darkness with no way of knowing which way was up and which way was down and with no clue where he was or where he’d land. The sounds of raging fires and screaming allowed him a slight hint at where he was going. That bastard creature had somehow managed to drag him down to Hell anyway regardless of the fact he didn’t lose the card game. He continued to fall until eventually landing with a bump which startled him and jolted him out of his shell.

Looking around he found that he was back in the armchair in his lounge, Faith standing there in front of him leaning over to check him, her long hair hanging down in front of her shoulders as she wore jeans and a black shirt.

Faith: Are you ok?

He continued to look around, noticing that everything was normal, no demon, just his house as it was when he sat down and his wife stood with a slight look of concern on her face looking at him. He looked at her and nodded, still feeling a little creeped out and weird. She stroked his hair gently and kissed his forehead to help soothe him as he smiled and rested his hand against her arm and caressed it.

Dazz: How come you’re back so soon?

Faith: I came back and you was fast asleep on the chair, I’ve been here an hour and you just suddenly started jumping and getting restless. You ok?

He let out a heavy sigh, looking ahead of himself at the blank television screen then back to her.

Dazz: Yeah, just a dream. I’m fine now.

Faith: What kind of dream?

Dazz: Oh it was just some weird thing, just had my match on my mind constantly that’s all.

To be honest he didn’t want to discuss the strangeness of that dream, wanting to both forget it and try to focus his mind on his upcoming match instead. He had trained so hard, so frantically for the last few weeks, trying to get himself in shape but now, in the 7 days before When Worlds Collide, he really made that push to get things done. He figured that Sunday night would be the biggest of his career in years and he didn’t want to disappoint himself, the fans, Isaac or whoever would be taking over as owner. It did seem odd though, every time he felt rejuvenated and ready to enter a new chapter in his life and storied career, he always seemed to have a massive championship match to prepare for and there was a different person in charge. It were as if NLCW changed and entered a new portion of its life at the same time he did, almost like he and the company he’d worked for this long were twin-like in their experiences and new beginnings.

That was a weird thing though, the fact that the place had changed so much over the years. In fact, other than Jason Stylez and Justice – the latter of which started on the same day that Dazz did with NLCW – he’d been here longer than anybody still active on the roster. Until Stylez returned and got himself involved in a Tag Team title match, it would’ve been Dazz and Justice but then Justice had only returned in a non-active role for the moment meaning that the Messiah of Metal could have truly been the longest serving here out of everybody. That fact alone meant that he had the ability to say that he was the real deal, one of the true cornerstones of NLCW as Rick Majors had called himself repeatedly, facts which were true and helped create a certain mystique and admiration for them

He smiled once again at Faith, kissing her gently on the cheek as she returned the favour and walked into the kitchen. He wanted to suddenly jolt out of his chair and hurry after her, try to warn her of the creature at the table and the broken glass and the portal directly into Hell that opened up but he felt no need, his fear washing away as he remembered that it was all just a dream, no need to worry. His imagination had ran away with him again and he felt silly for being so convinced even though Faith had assured him of the fact he was ok. Nothing like that existed. He smiled, his grin slowly fading as he heard Faith’s voice from the kitchen.

Faith: Baby why are there pieces of broken glass by the table?


******


We return to Dazz seated in the chair, absolute silence with just a shot of Dazz shown from the chest up, a slight view of the official NLCW When Worlds Collide 2008 event t-shirt while he looks into the camera, preparing to make his statement to the world, hoping that Sunday will see him walk out as champion once again.

Dazz: When Worlds Collide. Three simple words that conjure up images of huge planets the size of Jupiter somehow gravitating towards each other until they finally smash together in one big almighty explosion of mass, rock, destroying anything on the surface due to the major impact caused.

How fitting then. You see Isaac, we are like those planets, large and finding our gravities luring us closer until we finally smash together in a violent collision. The sheer scale of our talents, the hugeness of our abilities and the overwhelming support from the fans means that the two of us competing this Sunday is akin to colossal planetary bodies meeting with force. We’ve been here before Isaac, this time last year at When Worlds Collide 2007 we battled for the American championship, wanting to take each other to the absolute limit of human capability, to the limit of endurance and all for the opportunity to hold a title that I still haven’t held and that you kept for 42 weeks until dropping it to Rick Majors.

You may recall that last year I mentioned that I’ve competed at every When Worlds Collide event thus far, bringing my creation to NLCW for the first time when Highway to Hell II impressed fans the world over, naming it as NLCW’s Match of the Year for 2004. I lost at that event, dropping the World title to Ethan Andrews but one year later at the 2005 event I shocked the world by having my second NLCW World Heavyweight championship reign during Highway to Hell 4.

In 2006 I defeated Jason D’Angelo to win my first and only LCW Heavyweight championship as LCW took over the main event for When Worlds Collide, another win for me at the event and then last year……well you know what happened last year don’t you Isaac? You managed to somehow beat me even though footage later showed my foot to be under the bottom rope as you pinned me.

He sighs and turns his head, looking at something in the distance, which the camera can’t pick up due to whatever spot Dazz staring at being situated behind the cameraman. After a moments reflection on the events of last year’s challenging match against Isaac, he turns back to face the lens again while releasing a sigh.

Dazz: None of that matters though now, what’s done is done and we’re now on a new chapter in our lives and careers. You can sit and wonder how and why I decided to stay with this company, choose you as my next opponent but you know as well as I do exactly what those reasons are. Look at us. I walked out on you during a Television title match, allowing you to retain that belt when I could’ve easily just made the cover and became a 2 time Television champion. That’s part of the reason I then challenged you for the American title along with the fact I haven’t held it yet, never been NLCW American champion thus far in my career. I felt we had unfinished business inside that ring and somehow things escalated, both of us not being exactly endearing to the fans, only those vocal enough to show their support for talented wrestlers no matter what heinous physical harm or damage they do to one another inside the ring being supportive of us throughout that. We went from champion and challenger to rivals to bitter enemies wanting to murder each other between those ropes, created a glorified and perfectly legal bloodbath.

Remember NLCW Havok, the event named after my previous band? Remember how you and I were scheduled for a hardcore match, promising each other and the fans that a slaughter would take place, that a massacre would happen before their very eyes, one of us would walk away hurt while the other is carted off on a stretcher within the confines of a body bag? Remember how I sat next to Karla talking about the various implements of destruction we could use to maim and injure one another and noticed that my brand new electric guitar had been stolen only to see it reappear a week later during the match, having it smashed across my head and back? I certainly do. I also remember this.

He raises his left hand, making a closed fist and extending his index finger to rest upon his cheek, the camera zooming in to look at the area he is pointing at, noticing the faded but still visible scar just under his eye momentarily before zooming out again to its original position showing his whole head and upper body region.

Dazz: This scar, this scar that is a constant reminder, a daily memento of the war we waged last year. Every time I look in the mirror, I see this. What caused it? You caused it Isaac. You caused it just like I caused it, like the fans caused it, like the splintered shards of a table caused it.

You may be curious, wondering why I blame so many people. Let me tell you, it was you who refused to stay down when I tried to put you out of your misery that caused me to tip myself over the edge and turn to drastic measures to make sure you never got back up. It was me in a moment of madness doing whatever I could to destroy every fibre in your body so that I could walk out of that building as the NLCW American champion. It was the fans for expecting greatness out of me every time I set foot in the ring, urging me to continue, acting like the bloodthirsty mob they are, forcing me to raise the bar once more just to prove myself to them and to everybody else watching that match. Their encouragement and desire to see me and you destroy our bodies and potentially end our lives just to be champion, their little game in forcing us to go one better, more dangerous, that caused this scar.

Finally the table caused the scar too, remember that Isaac? That little game of one-upmanship coming into play again, laying you on a table outside the ring, setting a ladder to lean against the ropes then running up the rungs before I pushed myself off with a Chaosault that not only sent us crashing through the table, it also sent a splintered piece of wood tearing through my cheek and causing a gaping hole in my face that needed stitching and a scar that will be with me until the day I die, almost tearing out my eye from the socket.

I did it to put you away Isaac, to show that I still have the ability to perform something like that and impress fans and yeah, they lapped it up, they enjoyed it and loved every single second but what did it do for us in the long run? Absolutely nothing, that’s what.

You see Isaac, it seemed as if you were too scared to try and face me again knowing the damage we’d done to each other. That must be why you decided to duck me, push me aside for an opponent who lost to you a month later and then went back to trying to win the main events, trying to become World champion again, leaving you with nobody willing to challenge you for the belt other than myself who you still refused to defend against again. The fans, the wrestling writers, the critics, they all saw the potential in me and you taking the war to Slamfest and stealing the show like we did those two times but you backed off, tail tucked between your legs and cowering at the thought of losing that American title to me. Were you scared at the destruction we caused each other Isaac? Or was you just too frightened at the thought of me beating you, taking that title away from you before you had chance to try to reach or even better the record for longest title reign in this company set by Rick Majors during his reign as Cruiserweight champion?

That’s what it certainly seemed like to me. Having your co-conspirators ensuring that you’d somehow retain that belt for a lengthy period of time, hiding you away from real competition who was hungry to become American champion, hungry to hold that title at least once to show the bosses that I was serious in my pursuit of that main event spot that was rightfully mine all along.

But again, that’s all past now isn’t it? Now here we are again, once more preparing for battle, once more preparing to ignite the ring at When Worlds Collide. Once again I’m in the main event match at this event for the 4th year in a row and this time I will do everything in my power to make this not only Match of the Year candidate but also one of the greatest matches of all time. Something for the fans to enjoy and remember for the rest of time.

Dazz paused, tilting his head towards his right as he thought about what he’d just said, allowing a gentle laugh to emerge from within his core, looking back at the camera as he flashed those pearly whites, eyes slightly squinted as he chuckled.

Dazz: Kind of weird, saying it was the fans at fault for what happened last year with my scar and then saying that I want them to remember this match for eternity, doing it for them and their excitement. That’s the beauty of this business though, one minute a person can be adored and cheered the world over, the next despised and reviled, seen as a repulsive excuse for a human being then a year later becoming popular again. It’s all down to how a wrestler is perceived, me and you having an ego as big as a planet and our actions – you being a member of Anarchy Inc while I went on lavish spending sprees and declared everybody except my then-girlfriend Karla as beneath me socially – made those same fans hate us while now they enjoy seeing us in the ring, becoming our personal cheerleading squad.

Yes of course, I blamed the fans for this scar on my face that nearly tore out my eye but at the same time, I see that they encouraged me to do such a thing so that they could see us both injured due to the fact they hated us while now, sure they’ll cheer and applaud a huge spot but would look on horrified if we were to almost maim or kill ourselves in such a sadistic and suicidal manner. It’s like I said before, the fans are here to make or break us, if we put on a half-assed match this Sunday they’re gonna go crazy and demand their money back, cause a huge riot that two athletes they watch with an enthusiastic and almost worshipping ideation on what we can and can’t do within the confines of the ring would be disappointing them with a lacklustre main event.

Will we disappoint our fans or will be create history? I know what I’m aiming for and I know that you’re also aiming to achieve that goal too. The word on the street is that this is perhaps the biggest, most anticipated Undisputed World championship match since last year when Rick Majors became the very first to win it at Slamfest, the brand new championship being won by a man that had scratched and clawed his way back to the top and became the man in this company, the king of the NLCW mountain for the first time. There’s a slight shadow hanging over the match though due to the referees deciding to boycott due to the violence we created against one another last year.

The thing is, we all saw them decide not to do their jobs, creating somewhat of a void and a dark cloud hanging over us and our match, the championship on the line seemingly having a huge shadow blocking the light of glory just because a few zebras have decided to walk out and refuse to work our match, the most important on the card. Yeah that’s right, I said it, our match is the most important. It doesn’t matter about the turmoil going on between Dade Midvalley and Chris Logan, bottom line is one way or another we’re gonna have an owner decided but the real main event, the real focus of this event is us Isaac, two athletes battling in the most unpredictable match we could compete in, not knowing what stipulations we’ll have to face as we square off for that belt. Owners can come and go as they please but when all’s said and done, it’s the Undisputed World champion that will be the one leading NLCW into a new era, taking in a fresh chapter in the company’s life. It doesn’t matter who they find as a referee whether it’s Chris Logan himself, Texas Tim, Al Kaplon, Barney the dinosaur or Adam the popcorn vendor walking around row 15, me and you Isaac, we’re gonna make that building an open air stadium when we blow the roof off it and show the world just what a title match is really about.

It will be a fresh chapter, When Worlds Collide seeing rivals crashing together against one another to see who emerges unscathed to fight another day while the other has to dust himself off and try again in future. Worlds will collide all across the card, a vengeful man stripped of his mask battling with a makeup covered clown, two guys claiming to be tougher than the other, a youngish team battling two veterans and Hall of Fame inductees, two people claiming to be the rightful undisputed owner of NLCW and most importantly, undisputed really coming into play when the two of us do battle to crown the undisputed king of NLCW, the undisputed man worthy enough to take NLCW into the next chapter, to the next level, the Undisputed World champion.

Dazz released a deep sigh, resting back and closing his eyes, hoping not to dream that same strange dream from before, instead wanting to dream of angels, of light, of green pastures and deep blue skies while avoiding that disgusting creature that tried to drag him down with Wild Bill Hickock. He hoped that, in that Garden of Eden he wished to create in his mind, that the golden light beaming across the land would come from him standing tall and proud amongst the foliage, arms raised above his head while the permanent sunshine reflected off the Undisputed World championship that he hoped to gain at When Worlds Collide.


End of roleplay