Intergalactic Fighting League: Survival of the Fittest!

[Zeel1]

<< .25 Unmasked >>

 

IFL Bloodsport VIII

 

 

The crowd was buzzing as always, even more than usual. They were inspired by the series' first Do Or Die last week. But more than that, rumors were abounding about what was going down this week. The audience had been around long enough to understand the pattern. This was the fourth show since Killer Instinct, after all...

 

Sivian: Welcome to another episode of IFL Bloodsport! The energy in the air is a particularly vile one tonight. A vibe of impending carnage...

 

Hazazz: Bwahaha, well that's always what you get with the IFL! But I know whatcha mean. A real, real nasty night's on the horizon... that night might even be tonight!

 

Sivian: We know that the great Malell is set to make a big announcement tonight, and-- well, as if on cue...

 

Hazazz: All hail! All hail!

 

Indeed, Malell made his way out to a truly thunderous ovation. He soaked in the love and adulation born from years of bloodshed. The smile on his face was quite the fearsome one... he took up a microphone from the machination of windchimes that served as the night's official and began to speak to his populace.

 

"...Thank you. Thank you all. I know it's been a few weeks since last I spoke to you." he began. "And I'm pleased to say that things have picked up quite a bit in the past month. When last I addressed you, we had twenty-seven warriors remaining on our roster. As I speak to you now, we stand at twenty-three!"

 

The audience roared their approval at this 'progress'.

 

"Yes, and on paper it may seem like we still have a long ways to go before we find our, hmhmhm, lucky winner... but I don't expect the mortality rate to drop anytime soon." he continued. "Indeed, I suspect they'll be dropping like flies before you know it..."

 

The ravenous collection of misfits couldn't be more pleased at the idea. They cheered many of those warriors, yet were excited to see them meet their end in that coliseum. After all, they'd surely die in a grand spectacle. And after that... more warriors would be pulled in to take their place. Such was the way of the IFL.

 

"But I didn't come here just to brag about this. I have an announcement to make... actually, I have several!" Malell declared. "First of all, as the more perceptive of you may have guessed... we are but three days away from this series' second mega event. Prepare yourselves for... IFL Bitter End!"

 

They sure did seem to like the sound of that.

 

"And believe me, it will be a very, very apt name. I can't announce the card quite yet, but you'll know the matches within the next two days. And I suspect you'll learn of a handful during this very show..."

 

He smirked knowingly before continuing, "And that brings me to tonight's lineup. And believe me, I have quite the high stakes card prepared for this evening. I have a special attraction of sorts in store, an Earth specialty, to make our warriors feel a little more at home. Two masked competitors will be going one-on-one. It shall be the Sole Survivor's fast and ferocious Fenix... squaring off with the sadistic and masochistic Frightmare. And the loser of that match... will be forced to unmask!"

 

This didn't get too much of a reaction, but Malell seemed proud nonetheless. If these masks were so important to them, surely they would fight tooth and nail to keep them, that was his mindset...

 

"But of course, the most significant piece to the IFL puzzle tends to be that one key word... Immunity." he carried on. "Kevin Owens has thus far proven to be a stalwart Immunity champion. But it must be said that he got off pretty lucky with his sneaky antics against Jay Lethal in his last defense. And that would appear doubly so when you consider that Jay defeated in a more straight-up battle last week. So, though I don't care much for the Lethal... in the interest of fairness, I've booked Kevin Owens to defend his Immunity Championship against Lethal one more time here tonight!"

 

This got some applause, though Lethal was not a particularly popular man these days... and the very real possibility of him gaining Immunity didn't sit well with most.

 

"Now of course that covers tonight. But we also need a high profile title match at the Bitter End. We need a way to determine who the winner of Lethal/Owens will be facing." he continued. "And that's where the true fun of tonight comes in... we will have eight competitors, the cream of the crop coming together in a one-night tournament! There is one caveat; those who have already challenged for the Immunity title and failed, including competitors in the Killer Instinct mini-tournament, will not be included. This is because whoever comes out victorious shall go after the Immunity title at the Bitter End!"

 

Now THIS announcement had everyone in a frenzy!

 

"And the first round of that tournament begins... RIGHT NOW!" he concludes, before making his leave to a massive uproar.

 

On the rarely used screens that hung above the coliseum, the tournament's brackets flashed for them to see...

 

 

 

Hazazz: WOOOOAAAAAH!!

 

Sivian: I'll say... what a monumental night we have before us.

 

Hazazz: S-Surely, with this much at stake, someone will end up dead right?! All those tournament matches, a shot at Immunity, someone's gonna have to kill!

 

Sivian: Mmm, perhaps... but when you go in there knowing you'll have more fights that same night, it'd be a natural instinct to try and conserve yourself. They may play it safe early on, and simply focus on getting a victory.

 

Hazazz: That ain't the IFL way at all, darlin'! I just know they'll wanna tear each other apart for this kind of opportunity... heheh, let's go, let's go!!!

 

 

 

The crowd was in a frenzy, and seeing the newest member of the Sole Survivors emerge did nothing to quell them. He took Malell's place in the center of the arena and took up a microphone all his own.

 

"Two weeks ago, I showed what I was willing to do to win here in the IFL!" Roode declared. He was tapping into his wrestler's professionalism, masking his personal uncertainty as he spoke. "I betrayed James Storm, one of my closest friends from back home... not only did I turn on him, but I pulled that plug myself to get rid of him! And if I'd do that to him, what do you think I'd to a complete stranger like ZSJ?"

 

The crowd seemed very much in favor of this philosophy.

 

"Fact of the matter is... he's not facing an ordinary guy in here." Roode continued. "He's setting foot in the arena with a remorseless... merciless--"

 

He found himself surprisingly cutoff with an attack from behind, a chopblock from a budding enemy...

 

 

Jay Briscoe, not scheduled to be Roode's opponent, nonetheless came out during his promo, snuck up on him and assaulted him. After taking him to the ground, he pummeled the back of his head with elbows and forearms. Jay stood up and singled out Roode's leg, the same one that he targeted with the chopblock... Jay hoisted the leg off the ground, only to stomp it right back into the dirt, earning a howl of anguish.

 

Jay turned and walked off, growling, "Have fun wrestling Zack with a bum leg you little f*cker."

 

There was a bit of a mixed reception to this. The crowd appreciated a good sneak attack, but they much preferred Roode to Briscoe.

 

 

Hazazz: Hahahh, gotta keep your head on a swivel buddy!

 

Sivian: Jay Briscoe is quite set on going after Bobby Roode. For whatever reason he's determined to fight for the fallen James Storm. I appreciate violence, but it's for such a misguided purpose...

 

Hazazz: I know what you mean, but I love seeing feuds like this develop! This has to come to a head in the arena eventually!

 

Sivian: Likely so. But first, Roode has Zack Sabre Jr. to contend with!

 

---

Bobby Roode vs. Zack Sabre Jr.

-------

 

ZSJ came out, nonplussed to see his opponent struggling back to his feet. He actually smirked a bit as he could've sworn he noticed Roode limping a bit, though he tried to hide it. Zack rushed up to Roode, who could only brace himself, keeping his hands low to try and protect his bum leg. But Zack saw that coming, leaping up high to catch Roode into a Guillotine Choke! Roode was swiftly brought down to his knees, his head torqued down, his chin forced into his chest!

 

Roode squirmed and struggled mightily, but ZSJ calmly kept himself hooked in. His air cut off, Roode had to act quickly. He managed to stand, hoisting Zack Sabre Jr. up in his arms. He then rushed forward, looking for something to ram his opponent in, but they were standing in a pretty clear expanse. Thankfully, he did manage to slam ZSJ pretty hard into a rock formation after a number of steps, ramming the small of his back into the stone. This didn't get the submission specialist to let go, merely loosening his grip. Another might've done it, but sadly for Roode, he didn't quite have the strength for another as he was running out of oxygen pretty fast.

 

Beginning to fall to his knees once more, he was in real danger of passing out. But he still had some wherewithal, evidenced by his reaching towards the center of ZSJ's back. He heard the ruffle as Roode's fingers brushed against his plug... his composure was briefly shaken there, as he swiftly released the Guillotine Choke and kicked Roode away. The dazed Roode fell onto his back. Zack Sabre Jr. looked to single out his hurt leg, but Roode was a bit more awake than he realized, enough to nail a sharp front stomp to the solar plexus.

 

That doubled ZSJ over and Roode sprang up for an Inside Cradle attempt. ZSJ kicked out quickly, but - at great effort - Bobby did manage to get up to his feet first. He hooked the rising ZSJ and swiftly tossed him with a Vertical Suplex! This was mostly just to give him time to catch his breath. ZSJ slowly rose, and Roode caught him once more, twisting into a neckbreaker. Another cover, kickout at 2. Trying to keep his offense simple - knowing the ease with which ZSJ could land a gamechanging counter - Roode stuck with clubbering blows to the back of ZSJ's head. He pulled him up and hooked him for another Vertical Suplex, but this time ZSJ blocked it, hooking a leg around one of Roode's - the wounded one at that! With a tricky whip of his foot, he managed to trip Roode flat onto his back!

 

With their legs hooked together like that, Zack Sabre Jr. didn't even need to go down to lock in a hold. With a simple sharp twist of his ankle, he painfully contorted Roode's leg. He flailed in misery... even this had him thinking about a submission and he knew he wasn't even in a real submission hold yet. ZSJ stepped over, looking to twist Roode's leg even further. But with his good leg, Roode kicked him in the back, and the force saw him trip thanks to his own hold.

 

Roode took this time to skitter away. ZSJ got up to a knee, only to catch a running elbow right to the temple! But immediately after hitting it, Roode hopped away, regretting trying to run. He just waited for Zack to rise up again. He wanted to end this quickly so he was betting the match on his next shot. As Zack got up, Roode hooked him around the head one last time, looking to lift him up in the air and drop him right on his head with a Glorious DDT.

 

But at the last second, ZSJ spun out and countered this into a hammerlock! A snap kick to the back of Roode's bad leg took him down to a knee. Then... ZSJ got creative. He forced his hammerlocked arm against the bottom of his head as he flattened Roode out facefirst on the ground. ZSJ buried his knee into that arm, keeping it in place as he reached back. Roode seemed helpless as ZSJ grabbed the ankle of that hurt leg... making great use of his long limbs, ZSJ pulled until it was forced up in a Single Leg Boston Crab position! And he just kept pulling and pulling until the toe of Roode's boot was pointing down at his own head!

 

With his one free arm, Roode saw no other choice but to tap out. There was simply no resisting once ZSJ got going it seemed.

 

Winner: Zack Sabre Jr., by submission, after a combination Hammerlock/Single Leg Boston Crab at the 9:22 mark

 

 

Sivian: My, my. I really don't think we've shone enough of a spotlight on just how dangerous Zack Sabre Jr. really is.

 

Hazazz: I dunno which way a humans' limbs are supposed to bend, but I'm pretty sure he bends 'em the wrong way! And that's awesome!

 

Sivian: And I believe he can do just that to anyone in the tournament. That's going to make him quite a threat.

 

Hazazz: Maybe so... but here's my pick right here! Hahah, let's go, Alberto!

 

Sivian: He certainly has quite the chance as well, but I don't suspect Charlotte will be laying down for him.

 

---

Alberto El Patron vs. Charlotte Flair

-------

 

As the next two participants in the tournament made their way out, their faces were polar opposites from one another. Alberto wore a cocky grin, not a trace of concern on his face as he looked across at his opponent. Charlotte on the other hand was intense, focused... and probably a little pissed off that he seemed to be taking her lightly. As they neared, this only got more apparent. Alberto stared her down, seemingly convinced that he could intimidate her. He basically cut a promo on her on the spot.

 

"You're lucky, you know. On any other night, I'd tear you limb from limb. Kick that pretty face in. Send you up into the stars, just so I wouldn't have to see all that silicone anymore." he growled. "But you caught me on a good night. First match of three I'll have to win. Way I see it, there's no reason to waste any energy on a fight like this. We both know what the result would be if we really went at it. So why don't we just make this one quick and easy, eh...?"

 

"Sounds good to me." Charlotte replied, before rocketing her knee up between Alberto's legs, her kneecap slamming against his groin with a wicked thud! He howled his misery as he doubled over, and Charlotte swiftly grabbed his head and pulled him into an Inside Cradle - Alberto just barely managed to kick out in time! Charlotte zipped up to her feet as Alberto got up to his hands and knees. She burst forward and flipped into a Natural Selection, driving him facefirst into the dirt! She pinned him once more, again a narrow kickout!

 

Charlotte went down to his legs at this point and hooked them up, looking for the Figure Four Leglock, but Alberto met her in the face with a vicious upkick that staggered her. As she stumbled back, Alberto shot to his feet and laid her out with a clothesline, laying her out. He stopped to wince and stagger, clearly stinging from the onslaught. Furious as he held his aching privates, he began to lay in stomps. He proceeded to grab her wrist, and looked to lock her into the Cross-Armbreaker, still hoping for a brief match.

 

But Charlotte surprised him, rolling through not to pin him, but to make her way to her feet! As Alberto kept locked in tight, he was shocked to see her slowly lifting him up into the air! It was with quite a bit of difficulty but she still managed to hoist him up and plant him with a powerbomb that jarred him loose from her arm! It also left him wide open for a powerful stomp to the groin! She followed up by grabbing his ankles and swiftly hooking him into the Figure Four!

 

Charlotte tried to transition to the Figure Eight, but Alberto managed to hold her down flat... still, he was clearly in a lot more pain than he'd have liked to let on! Frantically grabbing at the ground for a few moments, he ended up with a handful of dirt... and he tossed it Charlotte's way, getting it into her eyes! Momentarily blinded and in a coughing fit, this took her focus entirely away from the hold and Alberto managed to swiftly break it from there. He backed away and seethed in anger as Charlotte sat up. "Worthless little bitch!" he spat as he nailed her right in the face with a vicious superkick, whipping her head back.

 

He perhaps could've pinned her after that, but he was feeling vindictive now. Alberto walked around, forced her into a seated position and wrapped his arms around her in a waistlock. Using his olympic wrestling forte, he hoisted her up into the air and simply tossed her facefirst onto the ground. He then went down onto her back and began furiously slapping the back of her head. Once he was satisfied, he hooked her with another waistlock and deadlifted her up into a crunching German Suplex! He bridged for the pin... but she kicked out just in the nick of time!

 

Alberto looked absolutely stunned with this. He really didn't expect her to last this long. His shock gave way to anger and he grabbed at her hair, ripping her up to her knees. "Stay down, damn you!" he yelled as he slapped her across the face. "I don't have all night to do this!" He reared his hand back once more, looking to slap her out of consciousness... but she sprang up unexpectedly and dashed into him with a spear! Rather than knock him down, she simply staggered the unsuspecting Alberto backwards. But this saw him slam right into the marble wall, and his head ended up whipping back right into the solid surface!

 

This left him dazed, momentarily leaning against the wall with no idea where he was. Charlotte took a step back... and then several more, venom in her eyes. After a few yards were between them, she took off, getting a big running start before delivering a massive punt kick to her favorite target. Alberto found himself lifted off the ground by the force of this low blow, screaming in furious agony.

 

Not letting up, she tackled him into the wall once more, before throwing him over her head with a Northern Lights Suplex, bridging deep! Alberto barely escaped the pinning predicament, an extremely weak kickout! Charlotte sluggishly made her way to her feet, spent but peaking in confidence! She leaned against a rock formation, waiting for Alberto to rise. The moment he struggled his way to his feet, she took off once more, looking for another spear... but he sidestepped her and shoved her forward to aid in her momentum, sending her careening headfirst into the marble wall!

 

As she stumbled back from the impact, Alberto hopped and grabbed her by the wrist, spinning her to the ground, right into the Cross-Armbreaker! The furious Alberto howled and growled at her to submit, officially done with this match! She struggled, kicked and screamed, but it seemed she refused to let go! Charlotte looked to roll over, as if trying to turn the hold into a pin, but she couldn't quite get any weight on his shoulders... so instead, with her free hand, she made a fist and started pummeling him between the legs! He hissed in pain, but she wasn't hitting with near her full strength - more a sign of defiance than anything else at this point. Alberto kicked her to flatten her back out and wrenched back all the deeper... until finally she could take no more.

 

Charlotte tapped out... but Alberto saw no reason to release the hold! He kept wrenching and wrenching, screaming, "Hell no, I'm not done! I'm going to break it! I swear to you I'll break your arm!"

 

He kept going until ZSJ - Charlotte's ally and Alberto's next opponent - ran out towards the pair. Seeing him coming, Alberto released the hold and zipped up to size Zack Sabre Jr. up. Alberto was breathing a lot harder than he was, though he tried to hide it. ZSJ seemed to have ice in his veins as he stared him down... eventually the Sole Survivor backed off, leaving the two Honest Few members by their lonesome.

 

Winner: Alberto El Patron, by submission, after locking in the Cross-Armbreaker, at the 14:41 mark

 

 

Hazazz: Hahah, that was awesome! Hell of a battle! Two relentless warriors!

 

Sivian: Absolutely. I'm not sure if Alberto expected to have such a brawl on his hands but Charlotte again proved to be quite the opponent.

 

Hazazz: Wonder if he's got anything left between those legs...? Bahahahaha!

 

Sivian: If not, she'll decimate the rest at the nearest opportunity! Hmhm, I'd love to see that.

 

Hazazz: You and me both, doll! Nyeheheh... eh... ugh, but now it's time for Kenny Omega... and this Galaxy guy, I still don't have much of a read on...

 

Sivian: I think that goes for all of us.

 

-----

 

Inside the tunnel, the Sole Survivors stood, minus Penta who opted to remain backstage. Owens was looking to psyche up Callihan for his upcoming match as Alberto limped his way over to them. Roode was sitting against the wall, looking bummed to have lost in the first round, and troubled in general... they all wanted to keep that Immunity title within their corps.

 

But no sooner than Alberto joined them did they get an unexpected guest.

 

"Um... excuse me..."

 

Fenix nearly jumped out of his skin as he whipped around to see Frightmare standing just a few feet behind him. They all took up some form of defensive or combative stance, and the CHIKARA alum backed up at the sight, his hands up. "H-Hey, hey, I come in peace! I don't want any trouble!"

 

"Well trouble's about to find you." Callihan growled. "Got some guts, walking up to us by yourself..."

 

"I-I just want to talk! To... to Fenix..." Frightmare uttered.

 

Fenix glanced backwards at his cohort, before taking a single solitary step forward towards Frightmare. "...What?"

 

"I... um... I know that, all you guys want to do is... is kill... everyone. But I'm not... we both know I'm not a threat to any of you. So taking me out tonight... it wouldn't really make much of a difference." he conceded. He seemed entirely stripped of self-worth. "And I also know that... your mask isn't really that big a deal to you, atleast not in this place. You wouldn't have any problem unmasking..."

 

"What are you getting at?" Fenix impatiently asked.

 

"I... just... it does mean something to me." Frightmare responded. "I know that's stupid but it does. So I was gonna ask if you could please, just for this night, if you could... just give me this win? J-Just let me beat you... please?"

 

Fenix looked stunned, as snickers rose behind him.

 

"Ohhh my God, perro..." Alberto chuckled. "How desperate must you be... to even think about coming up to us of all people to ask for something like that?!"

 

Frightmare just bowed his head, having no adequate rebuttal.

 

Fenix stared him down as the wheels seemed to turn in his head. It almost looked like he was contemplating this. But then, he began to nervously yell out, "D-Don't act like I can trust you! Just 'cause you're one of the 'good guys', you think I'll believe anything you say? You're just... trying to lure me into a false sense of security is all!"

 

"N-No, that's not true!" Frightmare interjected.

 

But Fenix wasn't gonna hear any of it. "I don't buy it! There's no way that mask means anything to you! You aren't even a real luchador, you're just some kid playing pretend! You aren't fooling me... I-I'm taking you down tonight!"

 

"Yeah, you heard him." Penta hissed. "Get the hell out of here."

 

Again, Frightmare had no response. He just turned and walked away, his shoulders slumped...

 

-----

 

---

Kenny Omega vs. Johnny Galaxy

-------

 

Galaxy sauntered out, looking as strung out as usual. He looked to be staggering and swaying, but that was just how he walked now... going deeper and deeper into his new persona. It was hard to believe that he had been granted zero access to any kind of drug, just from watching him. In contrast, Omega made his way out as plainly as possible. He didn't look angry or intense or concerned... he didn't look much of anything. Even the virulent boos and routine tossing of trash didn't seem to affect him in any way.

 

The two met in the middle of the arena, Galaxy initiating his typical staredown... only for Omega to break eye contact by simply dropping down to the dirt. As if frozen, Galaxy continued to stare forward... before slowwwwly tilting his head down to see Omega lying flat on the ground, gesturing for a cover. The jeers only intensified as it became clear that Omega was throwing the match from the get-go!

 

Galaxy almost seemed to shudder as this dawned on him. "This is... familiar." he lamented. "A hearkening back to a past life... a life I've fought to evolve from..."

 

"Just pin me." Kenny sighed with a shake of his head.

 

Galaxy didn't like it... but even in his deluded state, he knew it wouldn't be a smart thing to pass up the opportunity. Not with the stakes this high. So he stepped up and put a foot to his chest. The official went down for the academic three count, as more and more litter found itself strewn about the edges of the arena. Afterwards, Galaxy wasted little time making his exit.

 

Winner: Johnny Galaxy, by pinfall, after Omega laid down for him at the 0:47 mark

 

 

Hazazz: Ghk...! Nnnggh... nngrrgh...!

 

Sivian: ...I do believe that last match just broke my partner. Not that I can blame him. That was just-

 

Hazazz: Why the f*ck is Kenny even here?! Ugggh if I were Malell I'd have skewered him the moment he walked in! Why let someone like this taint our sacred blood-soaked arena?!

 

Sivian: Now Hazazz, we've talked about this. You shan't question Malell again...

 

Hazazz: I-I know but... goddamn, this far in, stuff like this is STILL happening! It's ridicu--

 

"Kenny..."

 

A booming voice echoed over the sound system, a familiar one, one that cut Hazazz off quickly. The commentators didn't dare say a word.

 

 

Omega stopped in his tracks and scanned the audience. He noticed several fans parting way to give room to a robed figure... the one and only Malell as he stood, in what appeared to be some kind of high-security press box. Malell spoke into the microphone.

 

"Don't be so callous... don't think you can just lie down in the middle of a high stakes tournament and just walk away." he declared. "The least you could do is explain yourself. Someone, please... get him a microphone."

 

The crowd booed this idea, and even louder when Kenny indeed took up a mic from the official. "...Do I really need to explain it? I'm sure we've been over this before." Kenny began. "Me... and the others who think like me, we don't believe in the Immunity title. We don't believe in the IFL. We hate everything it stands for. You brought us here to kill each other. You introduce that title to get us at each other's throats. Well we refuse to give you what you want. We will never... ever play along with you."

 

Malell smiled a vicious smile. "...Oh no? You don't think there's anything I could ever do to get you to... play along?" he asked.

 

Kenny didn't respond... he didn't seem to like where this was going.

 

"Hmhmhmhm... maybe I should put it this way. Do you really still think you have a choice...?" he continued. "Hmhmhm... hehehahahahahah... AHHH-HAHAHAH! You're a fool, Omega, a naive fool to the bitter end! You think you're better than me, don't you? You think you're too good to take a life... yes, I know your type very well. But if there's one thing I know, it's that there's a killer in all of us. Some just have to dig down deeper than others. The same goes for you..."

 

Omega waved this off and began to walk to the tunnel. But Malell's howl stopped him cold.

 

"You will kill or be killed in three days' time!"

 

Kenny looked up at Malell once more, concerned. There was a hate in Malell's eyes that he hadn't yet seen before. "Ohhhh yes, I see I have your attention now." he remarked, a cool growl to his voice. "Hmhmhm... ah I've been watching you since the beginning, you know. Hearing your every word. Whether in that arena... or backstage. And I've given a lot of thought as to what I want to do with you. I could sic a monster on you... or I could book everyone's favorite band of murders against you in a handicap match. But while either of those scenarios would end with your death, I think you deserve more than that. I think you need... a more personal punishment."

 

"...What are you saying?" Omega asked, raising the mic to his lips. A bead of sweat fell down his temple.

 

"Well... what I have in mind, it quite goes against tradition. But I doubt our fanbase will mind too much... see, I want you all to have your own agency in this struggle, I want you all to make your own choices... provided they're sufficiently violent and bloody ones. And certainly I prefer for you to make your own... challenges, but at the end of the day, I am the booker. And I can make whatever match I want." he went on, dragging this out. "And at the Bitter End, I've decided to make a dream match... my own, personal dream. And I'm so proud of it, I've decided to make it the main event! You see, whether you or your opponent want it or not, you, Kenny Omega... will have to fight in a Do Or Die match!"

 

The audience reacted thunderously to this. Kenny's eyes went wide, his pupil narrowing. What little he understood of a Do Or Die match seemed to imply that they couldn't be done this way, but it seemed Malell hated him enough to break from tradition as he claimed. He couldn't even bring himself to ask who he would be going up against... he had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach like he already knew the answer.

 

"And as for who you will be facing..." Mallel proceeded. "...why, it will be none other than Kota Ibushi!"

 

The crowd went absolutely ape at this, deafening cheers. Kenny involuntarily dropped the microphone, not that he realized it.

 

"Feel free to throw the match if you wish!" Malell goaded, an enormous smile on his face. "The important thing is that only one of you walks out of their alive... I'm quite excited to see what decision the two of you come to. Hmhmhmhm..."

 

Kenny was frozen in place, stunned at the news. He began to shudder, hyperventilating on the spot. It took him some time before he could make his way back through the tunnel...

 

 

Sivian: ...Th-that's...

 

Hazazz: ...For once I... e-even I'm speechless...

 

Sivian: This goes against, what little tradition IFL has to uphold... Do Or Die matches are only meant to solve bloody grudges, after one grows to hate another to dare challenge them to--

 

Hazazz: Who the hell cares?! This is incredible! Either Kenny dies, or he has to kill his closest ally! Nyehehehhe, I love it!

 

Sivian: Well, I'm a bit of a purist. But I won't claim that the match doesn't fascinate me... it's a worthy main event for that show, no question.

 

Hazazz: Hot damn and we follow that up with the last match of Round 1, Seth Rollins and Sami Callihan! Hoo-hoo boy, am I ready for this! I love the IFL so much!!

 

Sivian: I should perhaps teach you the definition of 'speechless' at some point...

 

---

Sami Callihan vs. Seth Rollins

-------

 

Rollins and Callihan were each deathly serious as they stepped out into the arena. It was clear neither men saw losing as an option and neither were about to take the other lightly. Wordlessly, they met eye to eye in the center... quick as he could, Callihan reached into his jacket and in one swift motion, yanked out his favored club/bat and swiped it towards Rollins' head. Fortunately for him, Seth expected that and managed to duck, before springing into a high knee to counter, the solid kneecap bouncing off Sami's jaw and staggering him backwards. He dropped the club, but somehow he managed to stay on his feet. The following thrust kick to the shin took him down to his knees though - but he managed to roll away from the proceeding kick to the head.

 

This put him lower on the ground though, with his head above the dirt. Rollins looked to capitalize, leaping up for a curb stomp, but Callihan evaded that as well and made it to his feet in time to catch him with a running forearm smash to the face. This dropped Rollins and Sami was swiftly on him, raining down punches. But Rollins managed to roll him over and start peppering him with shots of his own! This repeated itself a few times until Rollins, in the guard once more, managed to kick him away.

 

Rollins rolled backwards and scrambled to his feet. Callihan rushed forward to try and hook his head for a DDT as he made his way up, but Rollins managed to hoist him in the air and toss him forward. Sami landed on his knees, in prime position for a thrust kick to the face, which landed flush this time! Rollins covered, but Callihan kicked out right after 2! Not letting up, Rollins gripped Callihan's hair and pulled him to a seated position, driving a couple of knees into his head, before taking him all the way to his feet.

 

He hooked him for a suplex and got him up above his head, but Callihan met him with a knee of his own and escaped behind him. Rollins swiftly twisted around, just in time to catch a Bicycle Kick, right to the temple! Rollins collapsed and Callihan pinned him for a close nearfall! He swiftly grabbed the club again and looked to swing it right down onto Rollins' head, but he got nothing but dirt as Seth rolled away. Seth sprang to his feet, Callihan charged, determined to hit him with the club but Rolls backed away to avoid it. He aimed a spin kick to Callihan's midsection - but he managed to catch it with his free hand, before bashing Seth's kneecap with the club!

 

Rollins howled in pain and went down favoring his knee, his head hung. Callihan held the club aloft and, with one deft stroke, smashed it right into the back of his head! Already suffering from major concussions, Rollins seemed all but knocked out from this blow... Callihan trekked around him, his eye on the plug. Taking out the apparent leader of the Honest Few and advancing in the tournament sounded like a lovely idea to Sami.

 

But just as he reached down, he was met with a wild blow to the back of the head, as Terry Funk had run in to meet him with an elbow! He crumpled down, dropping his weapon in the process. Funk had one of his own though, in the form of a thick metal plate! He procured it the same way Callihan got his club, saving it from the arena after Sami's match with Tommy. Funk hoisted the sheet up high and slammed it wickedly into Sami's back with a loud crack! The way he wielded it, it was almost like a more solid version of their typical steel chairs. Funk dropped the plate to the ground and hoisted Sami up by the hair. He spat in his eye, before dropping him with a piledriver right onto the metal!

 

He simply backed away from the carnage he'd created. Funk saw the blood trickling from Sami's forehead, and for the first time since Tommy died, he allowed himself a little smirk. The barely conscious Rollins managed to crawl over, roll Sami to his back and drape an arm over him for the three count.

 

Winner: Seth Rollins, via a piledriver onto a metal plate from an interfering Terry Funk at the 16:03 mark

 

 

 

Hazazz: Well what do you know! Old man's got some fight left in him after all!

 

Sivian: Almost surreal to see Funk lay out Callihan like that. Quite the inversion of the norm.

 

Hazazz: Yeah and you know what...? I-I think he wants more... I think he's gonna go for it!

 

 

As Rollins rolled away, and was eventually aided to the back by his Honest Few brethren, Funk stared at the fallen Callihan. Dazed, but starting to stir, Callihan glared up from the dirt, blood still pouring down his face... his eyes were locked onto Funk in a seething rage. Funk glanced over at the plug in Callihan's back... it seemed, easy, for a moment...

 

But in the distance, he saw the other members of the Sole Survivors spilling out of the tunnel. Knowing he wouldn't get the chance anyway, he instead took a step back and procured a microphone.

 

"...Callihan. It's pretty apparent. The two of us... we can't share the same planet." Funk began, dead serious. "And I'd sure as hell rather die than go on living in the same world as you. I don't give a shit about making these 'mega events' special... but the Bitter End is the nearest show. So I'm making the challenge. I'm gonna have your ass in a Hardcore Do Or Die match!"

 

This got an uproarious reaction, which Funk entirely ignored. "One way or the other... we're gonna be done with this. And I'll be honest. I don't expect to survive that match... but I do promise you this. I'll do every single thing in my power to take you down with me."

 

Funk dropped the mic and backed away, as Callihan's teammates swarmed around him protectively. Sami was spitting out the blood that'd seeped into his mouth as he tried to respond. But it was clear that he agreed to the challenge, even if agreeing wasn't really necessary...

 

 

Hazazz: OOOOOUUUUUUGUHWOW... wwwwwow! What a challenge! I love it!

 

Sivian: It's certainly going to be a bloody match, perhaps even moreso than Callihan's bout with that Dreamer fellow. But I must say, it's a foolish challenge. Terry Funk has gotten in cheap shot sneak attacks, but face-to-face, he's yet to look like a genuine threat to anybody, much less someone with Callihan's brutal streak.

 

Hazazz: Oh yeah, no arguments here! The old bastard's diving headlong into his own grave for sure! But he's doing so with enthusiasm! Gotta love it!

 

Sivian: Well, that's one match we now know will be taking place in just a few days' time at the Bitter End. But we still have plenty more left for tonight. In fact, I can't help but notice that as the Sole Survivors are clearing out, it seems Fenix is being left behind... which means his bout with Frightmare is up next. The loser of this match must unmask.

 

Hazazz: HEYEAHAHAHAHEEEEHUHHhhhhhh I really don't don't give a crap about that...

 

Sivian: Yes, I think the audience shares the same sentiment. But those masks are important to those men... apparently.

 

Hazazz: Eh, hey. Whatever gets them tearing at each other! Ain't no such thing as a bad excuse for a bloodbath!

 

---

---Mask vs. Mask---

Frightmare vs. Fenix

-------

 

Fenix stood in the center of the arena, arms crossed. He was pretty non-plussed about this. Something like losing his mask seemed wholly trivial these days. And Frightmare didn't generally seem like much of a threat, so he wasn't afraid. Still... he was taking this seriously. This was actually his first one-on-one match in the IFL, his first time fighting all by his lonesome. With no one to watch his back, atleast not immediately, he was wary of any kind of setup.

 

Frightmare looked as though he were walking towards his own funeral. His head bowed, his shoulders slumped... as his opponent approached like this, for a moment Fenix seemed to wilt a bit, intensity draining from his face as his hands lowered... but he straightened himself out, crossing his arms all the tighter and furrowing his brow. Eventually the two were staring each other down, Frightmare slowly raising his head. In spite of his defeated posture, up close it did begin to unsettle Fenix a bit that he couldn't see Frightmare's expression...

 

They each seemed to be waiting for the other to make the first move. After a lengthy pause, Fenix decided to throw the first punch and it landed flush in Frightmare's face, dropping him to a knee already. Fenix stood, bouncing on the balls of his feet, ready for a counterstrike as Frightmare stood back up, but none ever came. So Fenix slapped him across the face instead. Thanks to the mask there wasn't a loud smacking sound here, but it was sure a solid one. Frightmare's head was whipped to the side by it, but then he just turned to look at his opponent...

 

"Wh-what's your game?!" Fenix yelled. "Why aren't you fighting back?"

 

"...I'm no fighter." Frightmare grumbled.

 

Fenix balled up his fists and started swinging haymakers, each blow pounding into Frightmare's face, backing him up until he eventually just fell to his backside. "Y-You think I'm gonna buy that?! You've gotta be setting me up..." he growled. "You... you've gotta be lying!"

 

"It's okay. I get it." Frightmare sighed. "Nobodies' ever had faith in me. I don't see why you should be any different."

 

Fenix seemed progressively agitated by these responses. He swung a roundhouse kick into Frightmare's chest that got a groan of pain from him, but little else. Fenix's leg jerked forward like he was about to hit another, but he stopped short... as though he was struggling to will up the anger.

 

Frightmare looked up at him, taking note of this. "You... don't enjoy this, do you?"

 

"...I don't know what you're talking about." Fenix grumbled.

 

"You don't really like attacking someone who isn't defending themselves. You don't... like hurting people, do you Fenix?" Frightmare asked.

 

"Sh-shut up!" Fenix yelled, before nailing him with a spinning kick, the front of his boot smashing into Frightmare's face. He flattened onto his back, limply. Fenix seemed like he wanted to follow up, but hesitated. He watched as Frightmare remained motionless in the dirt. His totally covered face really made it hard to gauge the state he was in. "...A-Are you...?" Fenix began.

 

"Yeah, I'm still here." Frightmare glumly moaned, not moving an inch. "...I just wish I were anywhere else."

 

Fenix grit his teeth. "You think you're special...? None of us asked for this! None of us, okay?! So the... th-the least you could do is stand and fight!"

 

Frightmare still didn't move. He didn't say a word either. Boos started to pour down at the extremely slow start this match was having. Fenix seemed to be getting progressively upset, grabbing him by the mask and forcing him to his feet. "Did you hear me?!" he yelled, before tossing him headlong into a rock formation. Frightmare hit it solidly, his face against the stone and grunted in pain once more, but that seemed to be his only response.

 

"I said... stand and fight!" Fenix spat, before running over and landing a solid stomp to the back of Frightmare's head, painfully washing his face over the jagged stone. Frightmare's body siezed up at this, kicking and screaming now. He howled in anguish as he reached up to clutch his face.

 

As he rolled around, Fenix could see the blood trickling between his fingers. But as Frightmare moved his hands to feel his mask, it was clear this was a secondary wound in comparison to the gaping hole that'd been made in the mask. It wasn't near as high quality or as durable as Fenix's... so it tore with a hole wide enough to expose one of his eyes. There was a gash at his brow now, blood staining the black and orange mask... the eye was red and puffy, belying freshly shed tears. And it was wide... staring at Fenix with a crazed look...

 

Fenix took a step back... but he should've taken a few more, as Frightmare sprang up from the ground, shouting, "NO!" as he nailed him right in the face with a crushing forearm, hard enough to send him staggering. "I won't... I WON'T ALLOW IT ANYMORE!" Frightmare hollered, an octave nobody knew his voice could reach as he rushed up and nailed Fenix in the face and stomach with a brutal running dropkick, taking him to his back!

 

Frightmare sprang to his feet as Fenix struggled. With a battle cry he leaped onto Fenix's back, pummeling his face and chest with wild, uncoordinated strikes! Suddenly the crowd was eating this up! "I won't... I won't do it..." Frightmare muttered as he got back to his feet and took a step back. "I won't go down without a fight!" he shouted as he rushed up and delivered a fierce punt to Fenix's ribs, sending him bounding off the dirt!

 

"I have to win!" he growled as he hopped over Fenix, grabbing him on the way as he took him over for an Oklahoma Roll pin! This took him quite off-guard, and he just barely kicked out! As Fenix bounded up, Frightmare slipped behind him and hooked his arms, shocking him with a Dragon Suplex, landing him right on his head! Frightmare bridged as best he could, and again Fenix just narrowly kicked out!

 

An inspired Frightmare grabbed Fenix by his own mask and hoisted him up, but Fenix charged forward, tackling him against the barrier. He assumed this would give him a bit of a breather, but he was wrong - Frightmare reached out and grabbed him by the throat, choking him as he pushed him back! This wasn't a Do Or Die match but as far as Frightmare was concerned, he was fighting for his life! And he was practically strangling Fenix as he forced him over towards a rock formation, before hoisting him up and body slamming him, the center of his back landing on the sharp point!

 

He scanned around wildly and noticed a taller rock formation nearby... he scaled up it as quickly as he could, before coming off it with an elbow drop! But Fenix managed to roll out of the way and Frightmare ended up hitting right into the stone! This tore into his elbow, busting it open and seemed to shatter his arm as well! His screams were blood-curdling, but even still he was pounding the dirt and struggling his way up! Fenix was dazed as he stood behind him, but knew he had to take him out as quickly as possible. So he leaped up onto his shoulders and brought him down onto the point of his head with a furious Reverse Rana! Desperately he went for the cover - only for Frightmare to kick out at 1!

 

Fenix was absolutely stunned! This man barely seemed to have a hint of fight within him to start with, but suddenly he was unbeatable! All for a torn mask... it really is special to him. He had to accept that much. Still, he didn't trust him enough to give up this match. So he waited for Frightmare to stand and then leaped onto him, a thesz press of sorts, proceeding him raining down many a punch. But Frightmare reversed, and started laying in blows to Fenix's face instead! Fenix managed to monkey flip him to get out of this. The two scrambled to their feet... and then proceeded to trade haymaker blows!

 

They grabbed each other by the back of the head and traded fiercely, busted lips and broken noses be damned! The crowd were on their feet at this display, as the intense Frightmare won the exchange, his blows staggering Fenix back! He backed him up near one of the tunnels before Fenix ducked a shot and nailed a spin kick to his stomach, doubling him over to setup a snap kick that whipped his head back off impact! But Frightmare still never gave up, grabbing him by the mask, just as Fenix did the same, and the two of them reared back their fists once more...

 

...but just then, they froze as their eyes met. For a few brief seconds, time seemed to stand still. As Frightmare looked into Fenix's eyes, he saw a lot of things. Fear, concern, paranoia... but no malice. And for Fenix, the first person here who'd actually gotten the chance to look into Frightmare's eyes, he saw much the same.

 

It was then that Frightmare saw how much truth there was in his earlier assessment. It was then that a harsh reality dawned on the both of them. Fenix, Frightmare... they were both decent men. Moreso than that, they were good guys. Yet here they were... on opposing sides in a pit of death, each terrified of whatever the other was about to do. Suddenly, the pain and exhaustion of battle hit them... they were gasping for breath, their muscles aching... hands unclenching from each other's mask, their fists lowering...

 

But that was when Frightmare felt a tug on his mask from the side, a violent one that forced him to whip towards the tunnel. There, Penta had crept out... before Frightmare could react, he felt a heart-stopping chop strike his chest! The pain reverberated through his weakened body and he fell to his knees. Penta turned to Fenix and yelled, "Stop screwing around! Finish him off!"

 

Fenix looked down at Frightmare, who gazed up at him, his exposed eye welling up, as if begging off. Fenix's lip quivered as he tried his damnedest to put his tough face back on. Penta repeated, louder, "FINISH HIM!", urging him on. Seeing no other option, Fenix pulled Frightmare up, hooked him and hoisted him into the air, reverse suplex-style. Frightmare didn't make it easy for him, kicking and squirming with defiance 'til his last... but Fenix completed the move, transitioning to a Reverse Piledriver, dropping him right onto his head. Back home this was known as the Fire Driver. Fenix covered, and the count was made; the move was enough to knock Frightmare unconscious for atleast three seconds...

 

Winner: Fenix, after interferance from Penta and a Fire Driver at the 17:51 mark

 

 

Sivian: My goodness, I had no idea Frightmare had so much fight in him.

 

Hazazz: Yeheheh, what a war! Man, you know the IFL is firing on all cylinders now! It's just violent brawl after violent brawl! Awwwwwww man this is what this place was made for!

 

Sivian: Well, by the stipulation of this match, Frightmare must now unmask.

 

Hazazz: Heh... yeah, that's nice, I guess.

 

Sivian: It is our job to make these stipulations sound meaningful, you realize...

 

 

After Fenix and Penta made their leave, it took more than a few moments for Frightmare to be stirred back to consciousness. When he finally awoke, he immediately regretted it. He knew what had happened. He knew what had to be done.

 

He struggled to his feet. Then, for a few seconds, it seemed he couldn't figure out how to make his legs move... but somehow he eventually made his way to the center of the ring. By this point, the crowd's high after seeing that last match had worn down. They had become relatively quiet as Frightmare meekly gestured for a microphone.

 

If he was to be forced to do this, he'd atleast do it right...

 

In thinking of the old traditions, he thought of the many oft-discussed origins and meanings people had given these masks. How some even took them as representing the soul of their wearer...

 

The crowd was booing how long this was taking now, unimpressed with the display. Frightmare ignored them, struggling enough as is. He saw his own hand, covered in his own blood, shake and twitch as he reached up to grasp the cheap black-and-orange fabric that he'd grown so dearly attached to. He shuddered and gasped and sobbed as he pulled the mask off of his face... he might as well been ripping his own heart from his body.

 

He took the microphone to his mouth and, per tradition, revealed his true name, his age and his place of origin... all to a crowd that couldn't care less about any of it.

 

Frightmare then looked down at the mask in his trembling hand, ripped and soaked in blood. The one thing that kept him tied down to his old life, the one bit of normalcy he managed to take with him from Earth... the one bit of hope he had to return to all that.

 

And he watched... as that mask slipped right through his fingers...

 

 

Sivian: Well.... it seems the deed is done.

 

Hazazz: Uh... wha? Sorry, guess I dozed off there... ngh, 'kay, back to the tournament!

 

Sivian: Yes, we have semi-finals action up now. We begin with perhaps the two most keen submission specialists in the IFL squaring off...

 

Hazazz: Heheheh, in the IFL, you submit by giving up your life!!

 

---

Alberto El Patron vs. Zack Sabre Jr.

-------

 

Alberto and ZSJ made their way out... one looking much more fresh than the other, even though both had already worked. Alberto was trying his best to hide his limp... but every few steps, he'd feel another pang of pain between his legs, which was much harder to disguise! ZSJ scoffed a bit as he saw this, which just made Alberto all the more infuriated. When they met in the middle, Zack couldn't help but needle him over this. "Weird. I faced one of your mates and you mine, but you look way the worse for it... you doing okay down there?"

 

"F*ck off." was Alberto's only response, as he reached over to grab ZSJ by the wrist. He intended to get a quick Cross-Armbreaker in and just tap him from the getgo, but ZSJ managed to use his catch wrestling skills, winding around to reverse before zipping around him to hook him into a hammerlock. Alberto seethed, "You think you can out-wrestle me, pendejo?!" before reversing this with relative ease.

 

ZSJ kicked a leg forward, making a bit of a show of it, before swinging his leg backwards! He made sure Alberto could see it coming - a back kick aimed straight for his beleaguered groin! Alberto gasped, releasing the hold and shooting backwards to avoid this, even instinctively doubling over and cupping himself! Clearly he'd felt enough of that for one night! But this was a feint, the intended response. ZSJ chuckled a bit at this as he sprang to take advantage of the positioning, swiftly locking Alberto in an Octopus Stretch!

 

Alberto hissed and groaned in pain as Zack Sabre Jr. seemed to be enjoying making a mockery of him. But this hold didn't last long, as Alberto picked the planted leg, forcing himself to carry all of ZSJ's weight - he then proceeded to flip onto his back, slamming ZSJ hard against the dirt! Alberto sprang up and then aimed scything kicks, brutally snapping into Zack's chest, ribs and shoulders as he spat, "Did you think you would make me tap, cabrón?! What were you thinking?! I'm an actual wrestler! You just play a wrestler, perro!"

 

As he continued to lay in kicks and insults in equal measured, ZSJ tried repeatedly to grab his legs for a counter, but he made use of his reflexes and training, avoiding these attempts. ZSJ scrambled up to his hands and knees, but that just made him easy pickings - Alberto rolled into his usual Cross-Armbreaker and he had it cinched in tight! It was clear he was taking this much more seriously from the outset than he did in his last match!

 

Zack Sabre Jr. found this quite a struggle to break when employed legitimately, and he knew his arm was moments away from snapping if he didn't find a way out fast! But he could only play on his know-how... so he opted to roll like his life depended on it, and he ended up stacking Alberto onto his shoulders, ZSJ's back pushing against his legs to up the leverage! By the time Alberto realized what was happening it was too late; the ref counted the three! He'd been legit rolled up!

 

Alberto was so stunned that ZSJ was able to spring up and kick him in the face, causing him to let go of the hold! By the time he'd scrambled to his feet, his opponent had already made his way halfway through the tunnel! Alberto was gnashing his teeth and pulling at his hair, enraged!

 

Winner: Zack Sabre Jr., by pinfall after reversing a Cross-Armbreaker into a pinning combination, at the 5:12 mark

 

 

Sivian: Well, well. Much as he'd hate for me to say it, Alberto was certainly out-wrestled in that one.

 

Hazazz: Heh, no kidding. He's a bit of a hothead, that one. Gets so focused on getting that tapout, he loses sight of everything else. But I love that about him! He's a pain-making machine!

 

Sivian: I quite enjoy him as well, but his aggression cost him on this exchange. ZSJ shall advance... but who will be facing?

 

Hazazz: Well, Zack had a much easier time in the first round, thanks to Jay Briscoe rearing his ugly head before that match. He won just now... and Galaxy was literally handed a victory, not a scratch on him after that match. So I don't see what chance Rollins has.

 

Sivian: For your standards, that's fine logic partner!

 

 

Johnny Galaxy made his way out first and wasted no time getting himself a microphone. While he wasn't too pleased with having the win handed to him earlier, he's moved on from it quickly, thrilled to go into this next match unharmed.

 

"As you all saw... I flitted through Round 1 effortlessly. I vanquished the Omega without so much as lifting a finger." he gloated. This actually got some laughter. "It's true... my aura was at such a height, such a magnificence, that he could not bear to fight. He was stricken by the mere sight... and so he was defeated."

 

Galaxy strode around the arena aimlessly as he spoke. "Twice more you shall see that tonight. And then, I shall not only defeat the Soulless Survivor... but on that same night I vow to vanquish your most hated foe. The man who has mocked me, both in this life and in the last. Oh yes... soon... very soon... I shall destroy the one and only Herald. The man you all know as Tetsuya Naito."

 

The mere mention of the name was enough to summon a cacophony of boos. Galaxy went on, "You are correct. But fret not... for he is on a collision course with destiny now... and very very soon... he will meet the stars. He will become one with the beautiful blackness that hangs above us... the abyss will greet him with open arms... ohhhh, it beckons..."

 

The crowd came unglued at the very notion of this... atleast, the portion that understood him sure did!

 

 

Hazazz: Heheheh, this guy talks funny...

 

Sivian: I thought for sure you'd be more excited partner. He just promised to kill Tetsuya Naito.

 

Hazazz: Huh- wait... is that what he said?!

 

---

Johnny Galaxy vs. Seth Rollins

-------

 

Rollins came in battered from his last match, his already severely concussed head ringing all the harder. Galaxy sauntered in, fresh as a daisy... but for once, he had to deal with someone who took the fight right to him! As soon as he was within a few yards of him, Rollins closed the gap with a dash and waylaid him with a crossbody, trying for the immediate pin! Galaxy kicked out quickly, but Rollins mounted him and rained down furious punches into Galaxy's deluded head!

 

Not looking for a lengthy fight, Rollins hoisted him up by the hair and planted him facefirst into the dirt with a front suplex! He then hopped right up for a Curbstomp, but Galaxy rolled out of the way. His opponent still on his hands and knees, Rollins attempted a La Magistral cradle, but Galaxy actually managed to reverse this, forcing Rollins to bear his weight instead! Rollins frantically kicked out and kipped up, just in time to turn into a Standing C-4 from Galaxy! Galaxy covered, for a narrow kickout... Rollins was clearly already quite worn down.

 

Seeing this, Galaxy's face lit up with confidence, a huge smile spreading. He waited for Seth to get to a seated position... before running up and nailing him with a brutal knee to the face! His head whipped back and smacked against the ground... not what his concussed head needed at all. Galaxy then took Rollins by the ankle and dragged him over by a rock formation, looking to finish with style, desperate to appeal to the audience. Galaxy climbed up the stone, looking to take him out with a Starship Pain. But when he got up there, he found himself gazing up into the abyss that lorded above the coliseum... his face showed pure awe, as though he were staring into the face of God. He just couldn't stop staring at the pure darkness...

 

He actually did this long enough for Rollins to get his bearings, make it to his feet and zip up to the stone alongside Galaxy! He hooked him, and took him off the rock formation, cascading into the dirt for what had to be a very rare shoot superplex... and just to cap it off, he rolled through and deadlifted him up to take him down with a Falcon Arrow! He cradled him tightly, but Galaxy barely managed to kick out! Rollins groaned as he made his way up, his head killing him... he grabbed Galaxy by the hair and forced him to his feet.

 

Rollins hoisted him up, Powerbomb style, and took off running with him still on his shoulders! He tossed him with all his might through the air, towards the barrier... but Galaxy's wild agility and reflexes saved the day, as he managed to spin himself around in mid-air and land, his hands atop the marble wall, his feet clutched against it! Before Rollins could even comprehend this, Galaxy had sprang off the wall with a beautiful Flying Chuck kick, blasting Rollins in the face and taking him down!

 

Galaxy contemplated covering him, but was struck by the overwhelmingly positive response from the crowd! His was a particularly impressive form of violence, a truly elegant way to dish out destruction and they were eating it up. Galaxy sprang to his feet, his arms raised and the crowd cheered even harder for the emerging warrior. He couldn't stop smiling... so instead of going for the win, he just waited for Rollins to stand. He then ran up, hopped up and kicked off the wall for another Flying Chuck - but this time, Rollins ducked it. Galaxy landed on his hands and knees - in perfect position for an out-of-nowhere crushing Curbstomp! Rollins desperately pinned and breathed a sigh of relief as the official's handchime hit the mat for a melodic three count.

 

Winner: Seth Rollins, via pinfall, after countering a Flying Chuck into a Curbstomp, at the 13:31 mark

 

 

 

Hazazz: Damn... that Rollins is a tough one. I really didn't give him a prayer there but he pulled it out!

 

Sivian: Similar to Alberto, Galaxy allowed himself to be distracted in that match. Though, not in quite the same way. He's on a different wavelength from everyone else on the roster, it would seem.

 

Hazazz: Yeah, he's pretty weird, huh? Getting to be fun to watch, though! Man I hope he can take out Naito...

 

Sivian: As do we all. But now it's time for our truly major matches... these will each determine who will be in the Immunity match at the Bitter End. We know that the final bout of this evening will see Seth Rollins take on Zack Sabre Jr. But before that, we have a title defense... Kevin Owens and Jay Lethal shall finally settle this!

 

Hazazz: Yannow, if you really wanna win with some finality, there's only one way to do it... bwaheheheheh, get 'em, Kev!!

 

 

Lethal stomped on out there, ready to face Owens in a high profile bout for the third week in a row. At this point he was pretty familiar with him and seemed to be confident, knowing what to expect. While the members of the Pact still weren't particularly keen on the Immunity title, the harrowing announcement made earlier brought their attention to the fact that, if you have said title, you would naturally be exempt from Do Or Die matches. This added bit of urgency made getting the title in the fold seem much more necessary.

 

So he was focused and ready for battle. But when the champion emerged - to a thunderous ovation as always - he didn't look near as intense for once. He walked out with an almost casual demeanor as he beckoned for a microphone.

 

"Alright Lethal. You're here for your big match, right?" Owens began. "Yeah, big-time title match, the no-strings-attached, straight-up title match you were pretty much screwed out of two weeks ago. I guess some people think you've earned a fair shot, especially after last week, right?"

 

The audience vehemently booed this notion. Owens nodded along with this. "Yeah... that's what I thought too. And I was also thinking... last week, I came out here expecting to face that little coward, that little dead man Tyler Bate. But out came Lethal instead..."

 

The crowd once more jeered as Lethal raised an eyebrow at this being brought up.

 

Owens chuckled, "So yannow, I was thinking... if somebody in the Pact could welsh out on a match like that and send out a substitute, than I can sure as shit do the same! So you know what? This match isn't happening tonight! I'm not your opponent, Lethal!"

 

Jay seemed bewildered. Nobody else on the roster seemed to be able to get away with saying and doing things like this. Even him calling someone out for an impromptu match last week seemed unusual, regardless of whether or not he got the opponent he wanted. Kevin was special, it seemed. Was it due to his status as champion or was there more to it...?

 

Owens finished, "So let me introduce you to your new opponent... my good buddy Penta!"

 

 

Penta emerged, a confident swagger about him. He seemed pleased with this opportunity. Lethal seemed agitated, to say the least...

 

 

Hazazz: BWAAAAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA! No shot for you!!!

 

Sivian: Well, it's not the most courageous of moves or quite what a warrior would do, but Owens opts to fight another day.

 

Hazazz: Hey, I'm just glad that title's staying on a natural born killer like Owens! And Penta'll thrash him just as well! It's a win in my book!

 

---

Penta El Zero M vs. Jay Lethal

-------

 

Lethal didn't expect Penta, nor did he particularly want this match anymore. Not that Penta cared, rushing up after him in a hurry. Lethal avoided the initial clothesline attempt, but when he swung at Penta to counter, the luchador managed to grab his fist. He pulled him in for a wicked palm strike to the face! The leverage of this caused Lethal to plummet to the ground, and with a large hop, Penta dropped a knee right onto Lethal's nose!

 

Hoisting him up by the cornrows (Lethal couldn't keep his head shaved after being abducted for the record, but did manage to tie it back...) Penta tossed him towards the marble wall. Lethal got his hands out in front of him and stopped his momentum, avoiding crashing into the barrier... but Penta rushed up from behind him with a barreling shoulder block, smashing him against the wall anyway!

 

Lethal collapsed onto his front and Penta buried a knee into the small of his back, reaching right for his plug, making no bones about his intentions. But Lethal saw this coming and was able to swing an elbow back into Penta's face! This was enough to knock him off Lethal's back. Jay sprang up, as Penta went for a charge, looking to tackle him into the marble wall. But Jay countered, whipping Penta into the wall instead! Penta staggered forward, and Lethal hooked him for an inside cradle, looking to steal the win! But Penta escaped just before 2.

 

They both sprang up at once but Lethal managed to catch Penta with a clothesline before he could strike first. As he scrambled to his feet, Lethal again looked to the barrier, and with a quick handspring, looked to finish Penta with the Lethal Injection. But it seemed this was still much too early as Penta caught him and hoisted up, Back Suplex-style! He proceeded to toss him headlong into the barrier. Lethal wasn't quite like Johnny Galaxy, so he ended smashing his face and chest against the barrier before falling right onto his back.

 

Penta dragged Lethal away from the wall and grabbed his wrist. He knelt down against Lethal's head and torqued back, Lethal's arm between his legs, looking to snap it with one fell move! But Lethal managed to spin along with him and turned this into a Schoolboy! Penta kicked out quickly, but caught a superkick to the face on his way up! Another cover, finally earns a nearfall. After a brief scan around, Lethal spotted a rock formation nearby.

 

He dragged Penta closer before scaling it. He was looking for his elbow drop but spotted Penta rolling out of the way. So he hopped down and grabbed the stirring Penta by the mask, hoisting him up. He thrust him back-first down onto his knee, before whipping him backwards into an Inverted Facebuster - his patented Lethal Combination, which just so happened to land Penta facefirst into the solid stone! As Penta dazedly bounced off the rock, Lethal swiftly scaled it once more before coming off with a Hail To The King elbow drop, nailing it flush! But amazingly, Penta still kicked out, right in the nick of time!

 

Shaking his head, determined, Lethal once again climbed up the stone. To his surprise, he saw Penta stirring, up to a knee! He was even tougher than he realized. But Lethal leapt off the rock towards him anyway, only to eat a brutal open hand chop to the chest out of mid-air! This sent shivers down his spine as he hit the ground wildly. Penta hoisted him up and drove him right onto his head with the Package Piledriver he called the Fear Factor! This knocked him right out... but also left him with his face in the dirt, his plug temptingly exposed.

 

Penta glared at it, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Briscoes rush out, ready to interject. He reached for the plug but could tell they were fast enough to get there in time, so he whipped his hand away. They stopped just a yard or two short, close enough to intervene if he tried again. From the opposing tunnel, Owens once more came out, flanked by Bobby Roode. They neared as well. Penta's hand again wavered towards Lethal's plug, as the two groups came to a standoff... Jay Briscoe in particular looked ready to lunge in at a moment's notice.

 

After a tense staredown, Penta on-balance opted to simply roll Lethal over and cover him, not once taking his eyes off the members of the Pact. He rose and the two groups continued eying each other, but eventually the Sole Survivors backed off, letting the Briscoes aid Lethal to the back.

 

Winner: Penta El Zero M, by pinfall, after a Package Piledriver at the 13:28 mark

 

 

Hazazz: Damn, but that Lethal's a lucky one! He keeps narrowly avoiding elimination and usually it's not even by his own doing!

 

Sivian: Well he can certainly make it hard to take him out when it counts, but regardless of how much we hate them, he has some fine backup... that's for sure.

 

Hazazz: Eeuuuugghhh... well, whatever! Penta got the win, so I'm happy. We're down to our main event now! Zack Sabre Jr. vs. Seth Rollins!

 

Sivian: Indeed. Rollins has been through a much harsher night than ZSJ, that much is apparent. But at this point it seems a fool's errand to count him out...

 

Hazazz: Hey... what are you tryin' to say?!

 

---

Seth Rollins vs. Zack Sabre Jr.

-------

 

The two Honest Few members meet in the center. All things considered, ZSJ could be a lot worse off. Rollins on the other hand could be doing a lot better... ZSJ's usually cool demeanor softens as he sees the state he's in. "...Are you sure you're up for this?"

 

"...I'm fine." Rollins grumbled.

 

Rollins' stablemates had heard that a fair few times recently. ZSJ didn't seem convinced. "I'm really not sure you should be going for another match tonight mate, let alone try and face Owens in a few days' time. Go ahead and let me face him fresh... I'll get that title off of him, I promise you."

 

Seth shook his head, stubbornly. "I didn't come this far to lay down, Zack. Not even to you. Now come on..."

 

Zack sighed. "I don't... really want to fight you, Seth. Not when you're all banged up like this. You're making this difficult..."

 

"Yeah? Well, don't worry." Seth shrugged. "I know how to make it a lot easier."

 

With that, he slapped his friend across the face as hard as he possibly could, the sound of it echoing throughout the coliseum. This jerked ZSJ's head so far to the left that he actually almost began to stagger. He had to check his lip for blood after that... he glanced over at Rollins and suddenly felt a lot less concerned. He shot in quick for a double leg takedown, getting it with ease. Jackknife cover attempt, but Rollins kicked out surprisingly quickly. He then sprang up and slapped him yet again! ZSJ glared at him... Rollins went for a third, but this time Zack caught him by the wrist! He spun around him for the hammerlock, then hooked under his chin to get him into a Dragon Sleeper!

 

He tried to take Rollins to the dirt to deepen the hold and lock in a body scissors, but Rollins flipped along with him and actually landed on his feet! But Zack still had his arm hooked, much to his own dismay as Rollins took advantage, hoisting his upper body up as he repeatedly stomped right onto his face! By the time he was done, ZSJ was actually dazed! Still clutching the arm, Rollins dragged him towards a rock formation. He hopped up it with shocking quickness, then leaped off for a beautiful Frog Splash, nailing him hard! Cover, ZSJ kicks out right after 2!

 

Rollins stood back, waiting for ZSJ to get on his hands and knees... he rushed in and hopped up for the Curbstomp but ZSJ rolled away. No sooner than Rollins came down than did Zack dive in with a chop black to take him to the dirt! He proceeded to cross up both of Rollins' legs, before going in to get the Chickenwing & Inverted Facelock, completing one of his complex holds which he refers to as the Young Boy Killer! Rollins struggled, only the one arm free to tap out with! But he wasn't looking to give up so easily...

 

He reached over and grabbed Zack by the hair, and with all his might, he drove him down, slamming his face into the dirt once, twice, three times until he loosened the hold enough for Rollins to break it by rolling over onto his back! This briefly counted as a cover, but Zack swiftly transitioned into a sleeper/body scissors combo. Rollins made it to a seated position, whilst still in the hold. But from there, Zack got one arm into a half nelson and managed to spin him onto his front. He then positioned one arm into a hammerlock whilst grabbing the opposite and torquing it out into a Fujiwara Armbar!

 

Usually this particular hold comes fit with stomps to the back of the head and Zack actually did briefly find himself going for this, but he caught himself, thinking better of it. He was intentionally going for pure submission wrestling, not wanting to do anything that'd target Rollins' head and worsen his already severe concussion issues. Still, he was inflicting some serious pain onto Rollins' battered body! Both arms trapped, Rollins could only flail with his legs! But he was fairly close to a rock formation, and with some effort, he scooched over enough to plant a foot on the stone. He used this to give himself enough leverage to flip over, and he ended up in a lateral press on top of ZSJ! Zack quickly kicked out.

 

The two both scrambled to their feet and Zack swiftly hopped onto him for a Guillotine Choke, but Seth managed to hoist him up and toss him forward! He landed on his knees, where Seth attempted his thrust kick to the face. But ZSJ rolled away from this; however Rollins expected this and was ready to leap up into a curbstomp! Zack rolled back away from this as well, but then even this proved to be a feint as the moment he landed, he launched into the thrust kick once more, this time nailing him square in the face! Rollins covered for the swift nearfall.

 

These two had only really known each other for as long as they were in the IFL together, and even then mostly only since founding the Honest Few together. Yet, already, they seemed to know each other's tendencies remarkably well. Rollins pulled ZSJ to his feet by the hair, Zack grabbed him for a wristlock, but Rollins again saw it coming. He zipped over behind Zack, then with a violent tug of his arm, spun him around for the Rip Chord Knee! ZSJ went down to his hands and knees and for the third time in the match, Rollins leaped up for the Curbstomp...

 

...but amazingly, Zack still had the frame of mind to not only evade, but launch into a counter, springing up and grabbing Rollins by the leg, bending it around his neck to lock him in the Stretch Muffler! Suddenly, Rollins found himself upside down, hanging precariously by the leg as ZSJ cranked up the pressure! Another painful hold, yet Seth still refused to give up, even after all he'd been through! He struggled and reached out and flailed, but there was no logical answer to this largely illogical hold! That Zack Sabre Jr. somehow found a way to make it practical was an incredible testament!

 

Several moments went by, the blood rushing to Rollins' concussed head, making him all the more dazed. Still he powered through... and that ended up being literal, as slowly but surely he managed to crunch his way up, his upper body gradually rising! Zack was stunned at the core strength he had to do this, and before he knew it, Seth was sitting awkwardly atop his shoulders! Rollins then rolled off of him and got in a sunset flip - but rather than pin him, he deadlifted him up onto his shoulders! With a slight running start, he powerbombed ZSJ right into the rock formation, crumbling them a smidge as he otherwise bounced painfully off of them! He woozily staggered forward, and Rollins managed to hook him, hoist him up... and hop up with him to deliver God's Last Gift, the Small Package DDT! ZSJ was bundled up tight and totally out of it as the ref made the academic three count!

 

Winner: Seth Rollins, by pinfall, via God's Last Gift at the 18:25 mark

 

 

Sivian: My God! What an incredible effort from Seth Rollins! I had no idea he had so much fighting spirit within him! Three grueling matches, but he survived for that shot at Immunity!

 

Hazazz: Damn, it takes a lot to get you to yell! But you're right, babe! Awesome stuff! Heheheh, never doubted him for a second...

 

Sivian: You're lucky no one can hear you backpedal right now, not with this crowd so uproarious!

 

Hazazz: Yeah, and they're really loud too!

 

 

After the match, a battered but proud Rollins slowly made his way to his feet. He looked down at ZSJ and, with some effort, managed to wake him and help him up to his feet. He presented a fist towards his ally within the Honest Few.

 

With no hesitation, Zack bumped knuckles with him, before coming in for a hug. The crowd were so overjoyed with the battles they had gone through - particularly Seth - that even this didn't get booed out of the building! ZSJ then made his leave as Rollins stumbled to the center of the arena. He gestured for a microphone and swiftly received it.

 

"Ugh... urrggghhh..." Rollins groaned, panting furiously. He's never quite been this worn out before. "...I.. I did it. I won this goddamn tournament. And now... n-now I'm... I'm going to the Bitter End... to take that Immunity title."

 

This too was met with cheers as Rollins desperately attempted to catch his breath. "...And not only... will I defeat Kev-Kevin Owens... but once I've stripped him of that Immunity, I promise you, he will not make it through the night." he continued, grimly. "Someone has to kill... that bastard... might as well be me."

 

On this night, the crowd was pleased even with this. They'd really been swayed to Rollins' side by this showing.

 

"...But that's not all. Once I've won... once I've gained Immunity..." Rollins went on, as he scanned the stands. Eventually, his eyes settled on his target, as he found the skybox. He pointed right to it. "When I gain that Immunity, I'm coming after you, Malell!"

 

It was eerie, how quickly the audience went from raving applause and thunderous cheers to dead silence. It was almost as if someone had hit the mute button on the whole lot of them.

 

"That's right!" Rollins yelled, staring right at that skybox. "That's right, once I win that title, I'll be calling you out, Malell! You will face me... in this arena! And I will take you down! That... that will end this whole charade once and for all!"

 

Rollins tossed the mic away and, just like that, the crowd turned on him, incensed, seemingly betrayed by his promise. The hatred was so intense that the commentators couldn't even get a word in edgewise, unable to speak over the vitriol that poured into the arena as Rollins made his leave. That sound was the only thing a viewer would hear as the show faded to black...

 

 

[joshspicer]

You bastard!

 

I knew it was coming but you bastard!

 

They're gonna go down together. There's no other way. Or they'll find some loophole where if it's not made because of a blood feud it can't take place.

 

Or you'll just destroy the last bit of sentimentality the story has. Yeah, sure we have bits and pieces of it in Frightmare and Tyler and Colby, but let's be honest here, the Golden Lovers being here together is the main event.

[Zeel1]

 

I may or may not intend for this to be the darkest story in GDS' history.

 

Incidentally... there's gonna be another little chapter posted in about half an hour...

[Zeel1]

Damn, somehow amongst all that I still managed to forget something important. Added a little Galaxy promo to that last show.

 

'Kay, now another chapter incoming...

[Zeel1]

<< .26 Entry IV >>

 

"Are you... really sure this is a good idea...?" ZSJ asked, as he aided Rollins through the tunnel to the main room. Somewhat ironic, considering he was the one who lost.

 

Rollins was, even now, trying to catch his breath. "Dude, he's... we're gonna have to... go through Malell eventually. So why would we wait... to do it on his terms...?"

 

"...I'm pretty sure it's gonna happen on his terms regardless, mate." ZSJ scoffed.

 

The two of them made their way into the main hall, usually bereft with people right after a show. But on this night... they were the only ones there. Some yards in the distance, they heard a commotion, and then... silence...

 

"What the hell...?" Rollins muttered.

 

They peered down the hall and saw a group of people formed outside the door of one of the bedrooms. It seemingly had to be forced open. Nobody was saying a word, many looked frozen on the spot.

 

"Uh... I'll see what's up. You rest here." Zack instructed his friend, as he guided him to the couch and sat him down. ZSJ then limped over through the hall. "Hey, what's... what's going on?"

 

Nobody answered him. A sense of dread seemed to be filling the air. So he pushed through the crowd a bit to peer into the room...

 

The light in that room was somewhat similar to some fluorescent lighting fixtures one might see on Earth. They hung down from the ceiling with two long, thick cords. One of those cords had been cut.

 

This was not a detail most gave any thought to. How it was done, who could say? Why... very few in that room could give any real insight to.

 

All they knew, was that they were staring at a face that they'd only just now seen for the first time. A face that was now turning blue...

 

The man they had come to know as Frightmare had hung himself.

 

On the bed behind him, was a journal, left open. On the page, there were only two words written...

 

 

"I tried."

[Zeel1]

<< .27 Battlelines

 

It should go without saying that the mood was different after what had occurred last night. Darker, drearier than even a typical day amongst the warriors of the IFL.

 

Frightmare wasn't close to most, if any, on the roster, that was true. He had tried but struggled to make any real connections in his near two months on this alien den of madness. But in seeing him hang there, dead by his own hand rather than another's, choosing to die before he chose to kill... this fact almost made it worse.

 

There was a deep sense of regret... regret that they hadn't been more receptive to him. Regret that they hadn't counted him among their friends and gotten to know him better. Regret that they weren't there to offer him comfort or security.

 

It was, in many ways, a common reaction to one's suicide. And in that sense, in a tragic sort way, it was a scenario closer to home than any of them had felt in quite some time.

 

Frightmare's death only intensified the dread that they all felt as they were headed towards the appropriately named Bitter End event. They knew that atleast two more deaths were guaranteed to take place, with two Do Or Die matches set. One, a sure-to-be-grotesque hardcore match in which Terry Funk will do everything his 74-year-old body could possibly manage to take down Sami Callihan and avenge the fallen Tommy Dreamer. But the other... the other was a match neither combatant would've ever asked for.

 

Kenny Omega... Kota Ibushi... the Golden Lovers, in a match that will not end until one of their plugs are pulled. A sadistic machination of Malell's own doing, looking to fire an arrow into the heart of the Pact.

 

In addition, Johnny Galaxy has promised to take out Tetsuya Naito once and for all on that same night... and of course, Kevin Owens will be defending his Immunity Championship against Seth Rollins. The leader of the Sole Survivors and his bloodthirsty teammates will do anything to keep that title in their midst. And Rollins is of course nursing a severe concussion which only seems to be worsening by the day...

 

Time seemed to move so slow to these warriors on most occasions, but the nights ahead of the Bitter End seemed to be racing by with a merciless quickness. They were facing the event down like the blinding light of an oncoming freight train...

 

-----

 

The night after that last episode of Bloodsport, they sat on opposing beds, taping up their fists. They weren't even sparing each other the slightest of glances for quite some time as they seemed to be trying to mentally prepare themselves for what laid ahead.

 

Everyone else was doing their damnedest to recuperate and ensure their health for what laid ahead. But here they were doing this. Were they crazy...? Yeah, probably. But this seemed the only way to settle their dispute... well, no. It would be more accurate to say it's the first way that came to their mind. It... usually was.

 

Mark Briscoe stood up, exactly as his brother Jay did the same. He couldn't help but smirk at that. They tended to be in sync like that...

 

"You ready?" Jay asked, just to confirm anyway.

 

Mark bit the stray, hanging bit of tape off, pulling the rest all the more taut across his fists and spat it aside. "Hell yeah."

 

The only reason they even had that tape was because they always kept it with them back home for just such an occasion. Jay pounded his fists together. "Good... then go." he grumbled before charging forward, a fist reared back.

 

-----

 

Alberto El Patron paced hurriedly back and forth, in front of his teammates. He was seething, repeatedly thumping his chest and mumbling various Spanish obscenities to himself.

 

It was almost impressive. He'd maintained this exact intensity level for nearly 24 straight hours now.

 

"I'm really gonna have to ask you to stop that." Roode grumbled, his heel repeatedly thumping the floor. "You're putting us all on edge."

 

"But I can beat him! Goddammit, I know I can!" he hissed. He turned to his comrades and yelled, "You saw what happened out there! That son of a bitch... that 'ZSJ'... I'll make him pay."

 

"I'd have thought you'd have wanted another crack at Charlotte." Penta replied. "After uh... what she did to you in that match..."

 

"Oh she deserves every bit of pain coming to her too!" Alberto noted. "And I will gladly snap that coño's arm and send her to her death afterwards, but I have to take down Zack Sabre Jr. first... that cabrón thought he could make me tap out! He challenged me to see who could best the other in submissions! And then he dared surprise me with a roll-up! A roll-up?!"

 

"...Is this really that big a deal to you?" Callihan sighed.

 

"Hell yes it is!" Alberto spat. "I am the greatest submission wrestler here, by far, by far! Zack Sabre Jr. is a pretender! His holds are pretty... but no real wrestler would ever get caught in one!"

 

Suddenly he stopped pacing and whirled around to face his leader. "Owens!" he shouted, storming up and placing his hands on Kevin's shoulders. The others seemed to twitch at this... he didn't generally like being touched.

 

Owens just stared up at Alberto blankly as the fiery grappler yelled, "You are in with Malell! We all know it! He does you favors! So tell him this... I want Zack Sabre Jr. at the Bitter End, and I want him in a Submission match! He will have no choice but to play my game and see how superior I am... and once he taps, I will end him!"

 

Kevin Owens stared at Alberto for a few moments more, before slowly taking him by the wrists and removing his hands from his shoulders. "...You want this match that badly huh?"

 

"I need it!" Alberto hissed. "I can beat this guy, I know I can beat this guy!"

 

Owens nodded. "...Y'know, usually I don't think we'd bother with petty stuff like this. But lucky for you, Zack is pretty high on the hitlist. And the less allies Rollins can have backing him up out there, the better. So okay. You'll get your shot. Guarantee it."

 

Alberto finally smiled for the first time that day, chortling and pumping his fists as he continued pacing around the room - happily this time.

 

As he did this, Owens looked up at where he presumed one of the places' many hidden cameras were. He knew he didn't really have to tell Malell anything, not to his face...

 

-----

 

Later that night... Mark Briscoe found himself crumpled to the floor. His blood was all over his brother's fists... albeit the same could be said for Jay. But Mark was the first to fall.

 

"O-Okay... you win..." Mark sputtered. "You can... challenge Roode."

 

Jay smirked... and then stumbled his way over to give Mark a hand. Mark reached up to grab for it, but when Jay tried to pull him up, he just found himself collapsing instead...

 

Just a day in the life.

 

-----

 

Marty sat at the couch, as he tended to during the nights, his chin buried in his hands as he slumped over. There was a noticeably blank space next to him...

 

Charlotte walked through the main room, checking up on him. "You holding up okay?"

 

He looked up at her, pretending to be surprised. "Yeah. No issues. Aside from the usual..."

 

She sat next to him, and looked him in the eye. "Marty, I... know you thought of Frightmare as a friend."

 

He bowed his head... he was keeping up a good calm facade, aside from the trembling bottom lip. "...Yeah. Yeah we tended to talk a fair bit. I uh... I know he always wanted me to take the Pact. And I was always urging him to join our group... but I was too pessimistic to go with him, and he was... just too damn nice to be one of us."

 

He paused, wringing his hands together. He glanced back up at Charlotte and lamented, "If we had... if we could've banded together out there, maybe... this wouldn't have had to happen..."

 

She put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey. You can't... you can't go on thinking like that. Not... on Earth, and certainly not here."

 

He gave her a knowing glance... "Ah. That's right... I'm sorry..."

 

"No, please. Believe me, I know where you're coming from." Charlotte assured him. She sighed, a thoughtful pause. "...Even, just here, even aside from suicides... we've already lost so many good people to this. I... I hated Madison so much, I was so furious with what she'd done, but... even with her, I had the feeling that if I were just stronger, if she actually felt safe with me backing her up, things would've been different."

 

She leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. "And I often think, if this group had started earlier... we could've joined it together. Us, and Fabian..."

 

"Aichner?" Marty asked. "I didn't think you two were friends."

 

"We weren't... not exactly." Charlotte answered. "But after our match at Killer Instinct, we shared a moment. A moment of respect. And that meant a lot to me. He was, the first to take me seriously as an opponent, the first to fight me for real. God knows he didn't want to, but he got there. And that was huge for me. Just being seen as an equal, meant everything. I was so scared of being targeted for weakness, so scared to be a victim... I guess I preferred being the aggressor."

 

"I get that." Marty nodded. "Yeah, we've lost a lot of fine blokes... just, seems like we're so powerless to it. Even if you try, you'll never save everyone. I guess that's why I struggled so much with the idea of joining in with the Pact. The thought of putting that burden on yourself, only to fail and watch people die anyway... I don't think I could deal with that."

 

Charlotte nodded. "Same here. Thanks for talking to me, Marty, I know it's been tough for you to open up to people around here."

 

"Aye, same to you."

 

-----

 

After Alberto's rant was over and the others dispersed, Fenix laid on the bed, alone in that room. He flipped over to his front and peeked under the bed. Just, to make sure what he'd put under there hadn't been taken away.

 

He was paranoid the cleaning staff would swipe it, or else one of his comrades would spot it... but so far, so good.

 

Fenix heard the door slide open and awkwardly jutted up, turning to see his brother Penta walk in. He had a bit of a dour expression on his face.

 

"H-Hey. Is something the matter?" Fenix asked, shooting to his feet.

 

Penta motioned for Fenix to come in close. He spoke under his breath. "I need to talk to you about what happened out there. With you and Frightmare."

 

A bit of a shiver went down Fenix's spine. He wasn't really ready to discuss the situation, but he saw little choice. "Wh-what about it? I won..."

 

"Yes, after I helped you. Even though you shouldn't need my help against a guy like him." Penta hissed. "By the end it seemed you didn't even want to win. You spent that whole match going easy on him until he forced your hand. I had to make you finish him off... you want to explain that to me? 'Cause I'm the one who has to explain it to Kevin."

 

"I... just, it wasn't that important of a match, from my perspective." Fenix claimed. "I was really more focused on, getting an elimination than taking him out so, I was trying to plan out a way to uh..."

 

"Fenix." Penta cut him off. "Lie to the others if you must, but you know you can't lie to me. Tell me what happened."

 

Fenix paused, then sighed, his shoulders slumping. "He was no threat to us, so we... we had nothing to gain from hurting him. Nothing to gain from beating him. And he was..."

 

Fenix stopped, almost frightened of what he was about to say. Penta slit his eyes at his brother, wordlessly demanding he finish his sentence. Fenix looked to his feet and noted, "He was... a good guy."

 

Penta gently put his hands to his brothers face, forcing him to look him in the eye. "Listen, hermano... we've been over this. We can't afford to show mercy, we can't afford to show weakness. If there were any other way... we'd take it. But this is how we survive, and we must survive. Until then, there is no one we won't fight. We don't drop our guards, not for anyone. If you are not our ally, you are our enemy... and nothing else."

 

Fenix nodded, pressing his forehead against his brothers. They held that pose for a bit, as Fenix uttered, "Thank you, Penta. If not for you, I'd have broken long ago..."

 

"Stay tough, Fenix." he whispered. "We will endure..."

 

-----

 

That night, as always, Kenny and Kota sat together on the bed...

 

"...There just... there has to be some way." Kenny muttered, trying to hold back a breakdown. "Something we can do, some way to get out of this..."

 

Kota shook his head. "We went over this with the first Do Or Die match. There's simply nothing to be done."

 

"But we weren't in that match!" Kenny yelled. "There was no talking Charlotte down, but neither of us want this... surely we can figure out a way to, to force them to cancel..."

 

"The guards will be surrounding us... trying to run would just get us killed faster." Ibushi lamented. "Anyone else trying to help would see the same fate. Stalling it out wouldn't work either, they'd grow restless with us eventually... there's... nothing."

 

"But... but we..." Kenny sputtered, looking for words that just don't exist, tears escaping him. "There's just no way... this can't... this can't happen, it..."

 

Kota put a hand to his face, wiping a tear away. "Shhh... Kenny. We only have a few more nights together... let's not spend them in fear and regret."

 

-----

 

That next morning, Tyler Bate sat in the lounge, as Colby Corino made his way in, in a bad mood as he tended to be these days. He glanced over and noticed his (even) younger Pact-mate sitting with a journal. As he turned the page, a single tear went down his cheek...

 

"...What is that?" Colby asked.

 

Bate wiped the tear away and glanced back to see him. "It's... it's Frightmare's. It was... left next to him. I guess he's been writing in it for a while."

 

Colby had little reaction to this. Tyler turned his head back to keep on reading as he spoke, "He was an insightful guy. Had a good read on a lot of people, atleast I think so. God, if I only knew the things that were on his mind..."

 

As his eyes drifted to the parts about himself and Colby, Bate seemed... breathless. "I... I think you should maybe read this, Colby."

 

He turned to him once more, only to find that he'd disappeared, having already made his way back up the hall...

 

-----

 

Later that day, everyone had woken up and filed in... the usual meeting room scenario, with typically little discourse between the Pact and Honest Few aside from the general well-wishes. As usual, Braun Strowman and Johnny Galaxy stayed off on their own. All seemed normal.

 

And then... they came in. It was rare that they ever wandered into the main hall outside of immediately before and after matches, but in came the Sole Survivors.

 

Every single person in that room shot up to their feet to greet them. It was like the air in the room immediately thinned, and breathing became more a challenge...

 

"Relax." Alberto began. "All we want to do is make one thing clear. Every last one of the Sole Survivors will be competing at the Bitter End. And if any of you think you can interfere and help our opponents, save them from elimination, just know that you will be making yourself the prime target. You'll be the one taken out in their stead... that's your reward for heroism, perro. We will show no-"

 

"Oh, shut the f*ck up." Terry Funk grumbled, as he walked right up to the group. Some people tried to reach out and hold him back, but he ripped his arms away from them, fearlessly stepping right up to Sami Callihan. "I've waited way too damn long to talk to you, boy..."

 

Sami stared him down, wordlessly, as the others assembled behind Funk, ready to make a move at a moment's notice.

 

"You think you're a monster... you think you're nothing but a born killer, ain't that right? At first, I thought the same... you broke my ribs. And you murdered my best friend, one of the most decent, honest men I've ever known..." Terry growled. "But ever since then, whenever I got the chance, I've been looking in your eyes. And I've realized something... Tommy was right. He was right all along about you. You're just a gimmick... everything you've done, it's just to convince yourself that you're something you're not."

 

Sami just stared as Terry went on, "You knew the man who came here wasn't strong enough to survive this. So you put on a front. You put on a scary f*ckin' voice, and do everything you can to be the sickest bastard here... but inside... you're afraid. Inside, you hate yourself and everything you've ever done... and that's why no matter what, I know I have a chance. Even if I have to die to do it, I know I can put you out of your misery."

 

Sami took a deep breath, doing everything he could to ensure his expression was unchanging, remaining cold. Finally, he replied, "...I'm not the one putting up a front here. You're the one pretending he has any business being in a fight, let alone a death match. Even before I snapped those ribs, you never had a prayer against any of us, let alone someone as depraved as me. And I'm not the only one that knew that... Tommy did too."

 

"...The f*ck did you say?" Funk grumbled.

 

"Yeah, he knew you better than anyone... and he knew that you were broken down. He knew you stood no chance of surviving this... I could see it in his eyes, how terrified he was for you every single f*cking day." Callihan hissed. "That's why he was so furious when I attacked you. That's why he was always following you around like a guard dog. He knew you couldn't protect yourself... he knew you needed him. And now, you're all by yourself, trying to convince yourself you'll be able to lay a hand on me. Trying to act like your death won't be just as meaningless as his..."

 

Funk's fists tightened, his teeth gnashing. But he seemed to calm himself down, keeping his composure. "...Yannow what? You're probably right. That's probably exactly what Tommy thought. But you want to know something about Tommy Dreamer...?"

 

Sami raised an eyebrow.

 

Funk finished, "...He's a better man than me--" before surprising Callihan with a wild headbutt! This re-opened the wound that Funk created days earlier, blood pouring down Sami's face immediately - though he also split his own forehead open in the process!

 

The Sole Survivors quickly grabbed Sami, as the others did the same with Funk, keeping them apart from one another, eventually taking them back to their rooms. It took all their combined might to keep them from tearing each other to pieces... it was all they wanted to do...

[joshspicer]

Kota and Omega...they gotta go out together.

[Zeel1]

<p><em>For your prediction needs...</em></p><p> </p><p>

</p><div style="text-align:center;"><p><span style="text-decoration:underline;">IFL Bitter End Card</span></p><p> </p><p>

Bobby Roode vs. Jay Briscoe</p><p>

<strong>Submission Match:</strong> Zack Sabre Jr. vs. Alberto El Patron</p><p>

The Lucha Brothers vs. Marty Scurll & Tomohiro Ishii</p><p>

Johnny Galaxy vs. Tetsuya Naito</p><p>

<strong>Hardcore Do Or Die Match:</strong> Terry Funk vs. Sami Callihan</p><p>

<strong>Immunity Championship:</strong> Kevin Owens © vs. Seth Rollins</p><p>

<strong>Do Or Die Match:</strong> Kenny Omega vs. Kota Ibushi</p></div><p></p><p></p>

[EBEZA]

<p>I don't tend to like to predict this diary for reasons I've already stated, but I have some thoughts on how I'd go about this show, that can serve as predictions! <img alt="" data-src="//content.invisioncic.com/g322608/emoticons/biggrin.png.929299b4c121f473b0026f3d6e74d189.png" src="<___base_url___>/applications/core/interface/js/spacer.png" /></p><p> </p><p>

</p><div style="text-align:center;"><p><span style="text-decoration:underline;">IFL Bitter End Card</span></p><p> </p><p>

Bobby Roode vs. <strong>Jay Briscoe</strong> - <em>Coin toss tbh</em></p><p>

<strong>Submission Match:</strong> Zack Sabre Jr. vs. <strong>Alberto El Patron</strong> - <em>Even the score, but I don't think ZSJ will be eliminated</em></p><p>

The Lucha Brothers vs. <strong>Marty Scurll & Tomohiro Ishii</strong> - <em>Fenix's hesitation costs the brothers, perhaps?</em></p><p>

Johnny Galaxy vs. <strong>Tetsuya Naito</strong> - <em>Too good of an antagonist for the crowd to die yet, IMO</em></p><p>

<strong>Hardcore Do Or Die Match:</strong> Terry Funk <strong>vs.</strong> Sami Callihan - <em>Here's where it gets interesting... </em><em><strong>both die!</strong></em><em> I envision it as Sami pulls Funk's plug, but Funk refuses to let go of him, eventually pulling Sami's plug and smiling in his face as they both float up together...</em></p><p>

<strong>Immunity Championship:</strong> Kevin Owens © vs. <strong>Seth Rollins</strong> - <em>I don't think you'll kill Owens off yet, but I really want to see Immune Rollins vs Malell!</em></p><p>

<strong>Do Or Die Match:</strong> Kenny Omega <strong>vs.</strong> Kota Ibushi - <em><strong>Another</strong></em><em> double elimination! I think they might either refuse to fight and end up trying to fight guards side-by-side, or try to "work" an endless match until the get rushed by guards, or interference from the Sole Survivors (especially if Owens does die just before this match, they'll be fuming!) Either way, I think we see two double deaths in the Do Or Die matches </em><img alt="" data-src="//content.invisioncic.com/g322608/emoticons/biggrin.png.929299b4c121f473b0026f3d6e74d189.png" src="<___base_url___>/applications/core/interface/js/spacer.png" /></p></div><p></p><p></p><p> </p><p>

Honestly don't care how right or wrong I am, I just can't wait to read the show! <img alt="" data-src="//content.invisioncic.com/g322608/emoticons/biggrin.png.929299b4c121f473b0026f3d6e74d189.png" src="<___base_url___>/applications/core/interface/js/spacer.png" /></p>

[Zeel1]

Just wanna thank EBEZA for nominating me for August's DOTM! Much appreciation in advance to anyone who votes for me. More than anything I just want more people to read this, and getting into the DOTM seems like a great way to raise awareness so it means a lot to me.

 

Incidentally, I've also quietly added a feature of a sort to this diary. You may notice every chapter title is now fitted with some arrows. Click on the right ones and you'll be sent to the next chapter, click on the left and you'll go to the previous. Obviously the first and latest chapters only have the one set of arrows.

 

I still dunno if I like how it looks but it's functional. Formatting them all was actually more time-consuming than I expected them to be, heh. I'm thinking of eventually adding a second series of this which will let you go from show-to-show specifically.

[EBEZA]

Just wanna thank EBEZA for nominating me for August's DOTM!

 

Don't thank me, thank yourself for writing such an awesome diary!

 

I'm thinking of eventually adding a second series of this

 

YES!!! :D

[Zeel1]

Don't thank me, thank yourself for writing such an awesome diary!

 

 

YES!!! :D

 

Really glad you love it so much~

 

And I was just talking about the arrows...

 

...but yes I am already planning season 2.

[EBEZA]

...but yes I am already planning season 2.

 

Fixed.

[EBEZA]

ZEEEEL! Where are you?