Hand in Hand at the edge of Oblivion.

[The Wretched Nobody]

The WWG Video Crew Van slowly disappears as we descend deeper into the woods. The gnarled and twisted trees groan as an icy wind tears away at us stealing the last of our body heat. Three Ante Meridiem is the time we’re made aware of… the witching hour. Brought to our attention as distant bells tolling falls upon our ears, the forest comes to life around us despite all the death that lay ahead. All around there is a chorus as creatures aware of our presence. Chittering in the rustling bracken, inky black and gleaming red eyes glisten in the shadows.  The night air is heavy, dank with the odor of decomposing leaves and the heavy stench of death. We stumble through razor sharp brambles, snagging on the vicious thorns, leading to the graveyard that we are about to meet Grace and Wretched Nobody in.

{Camera Man - Cut away screen} A cold Northerly wind blew bitterly, chilling me to my marrow as I opened the rusty ancient cast iron gate. Overhead, dark clouds blotted out the full moon from time to time, casting the centuries old cemetery into an inky blackness, yet further a field, I could see the storm gathering. Lightning flashed in the distance and I hurried along with the chore that brought me out in the middle of the night.

In The dark, the old gate creaks closed in the wind, wailing like a baby crying out for its Mother. The thorns are as sharp knives the old brick twisted path filed with leaves half decayed wrapped in shadows as black as doom. We follow the blood covered foggy path into the grave yard, ancient gravestones guide us along the mysterious way along the dark narrow path to our unpleasant destination. Slowly a horrifying mist surrounds us. All around strange noises come from nowhere as scary as they are we still go on.  Shadows are everywhere always following, while thick mist approaches and surrounds.  All around are strange noises, like a little ghost girl crying in the distance. Shadows move everywhere but there’s not a single body except our Camera man. The air stinks of rotten flesh. Ravens circle above us in a great murder. We continue to walk through the unmaintained grounds trudging in slushy mud and damp leaves we disturb the undergrowth.

{Camera Man - Cut away screen} I heard a whistle i was so scared the black gloomy cloud cover the moon so there wasn't even a tiny bit of light. SUDDENLY .. the whistle was back however it was close i felt like i was gong to die so, i ran until my heart was going to stop then every single bird scatted in a flash. I a felt a cold breeze on my neck i looked around but nobody was there then I heard somebody breathing here my hear. Just then i caught my breath back and ran for another ten minutes I fell to the ground I heard somebody coming but nobody was there...

We continue to walk through horrible sticky mud. We see a light shimmering in the distance. The sound of a bell draws us closer and closer. In the distance we see a Church with the slightest bit of smoke drifting from a stovepipe, promising warmth.  The sound of its bell draws us near although it’s dulled and eerie the building appears to have a snaking spire and a mesmerizing golden clock. Fighting our way towards the glow of a small, flickering light the smell of an open fire entices us with the promise of warmth from the damp and cold. Moving into the clearing, we see that wisp, that whisper of smoke is coming from the chimney of an old, ramshackle cabin... not the Church whose grounds this building lay upon.

{Camera Man - Cut away screen} Moving further into the cemetery, a fresh chill ran anew along my spine. Grayish white head stones dotted the landscape before me. Ghostly sentinels against those who would trespass this hallowed ground, against those who would dare disturb their eternal slumber. Everywhere I turned, a silence prevailed, yet not so silent that no noise at all spoke to my un-steadied nerve. Amongst the tree's, the wind whispered, called to me. A bush, its living green now dormant rattled against some unknown tombstone.

The closer we seem to get towards the overpowering, fully vine covered cabin, the darker the area became with the stealthily moving shadows. Making an attempt to curiously look through the cabin window, however find  that we could not see anything through it at all but just a pitch-black darkened area. It was as if it was a magical and dimensional portal, which travelled somewhere further then the reach of our minds.

{Camera Man - Cut away screen} All around spooky horrible strange noises come from everywhere I stand. Dark shadows are everywhere. The graveyard air stinks of rotting human flesh. Black gloomy birds circled above my worried heads. Soon I finished my walk through the horrible, brown, squelchy mud as sticky as sticky toffee pudding.  First Nick Sadistic’s B.S. and now they have me trudging through the crinkly spiked branches, now I know how Ichabod Crane must have felt.  Who in God’s name takes joy in places like this?  This is the crap we get for recruiting out of insane asylums.  I remember when I use to just be in a nice warm building, recording simple interviews with superstars… those were the days.

Courageously pulled, the rusted latches scream the door open, as the unfriendly, ice-cold wind travelled precipitously over the neglected heath, when made a first brave step through the enormous entrance leading into the tiny settlement atop of those abandoned souls. While continuing at a steady pace towards the screeching latches, and corroded knob I felt irregular. In a whole new unnatural world the old grey metal door latches creak like a door closed without any oil or physical contact. It seems as if instead of walking into the cabin – we’ve now just walked out of one into a surreal Ossuary. There were now huge amounts of rotting gravestones in an extremely vast area contained in by gloomy, over reaching trees. Before there were so many shadows, now we notice that there seemed to be no stars in the sky except for one dark one, which seemed to be strongly battling and competing with the rest of the darkness in the sky. Our first movements inside the charmed graveyard allow us to smell nothing but the decaying flavor of putrid blood and a suffocating odor of death.

{Camera Man - Cut away screen} I heard a whistle i was so scared the black gloomy cloud cover the moon so there wasn't even a tiny bit of light. SUDDENLY .. the whistle was back however it was close i felt like i was gong to die so, i ran until my heart was going to stop then every single bird scatted in a flash. I a felt a cold breeze on my neck i looked around but nobody was there then I heard somebody breathing here my hear. Just then i caught my breath back and ran for another ten minutes I fell to the ground I heard somebody coming – and as if he stepped from the darkness suddenly Nobody was there...  I saw no signs of Grace Brutal, likely because Stevens bashed her in the head with a baseball bat.  I have no clue what the hell that guy was thinking.  Anyone who runs with the likes of whatever the hell Wretched Nobody is, should be taken a little more seriously than that. Still, he’ll probably get his and right now I just hope I didn’t do anything to get beat up again this week.

While looking into the sky the right side of his twisted mask was aimed at me, an unwelcoming grin carved into its expression he then made a vicious, silent, sardonic laugh that turned into a spluttering cough making thick blackish red blood come spitting out from his mouth.

{Camera Man - Cut away screen} As he turned and I saw the left side of his face it was covered by a dark shadow making him look depraved. At first I thought that Grace may come to my aid but I soon figured that wasn’t the case. Slowly my eyelids began to close and a huge tiredness came before.  Bleary, I could see an unusual shape. However, as I turned to take a closer look it vanished! My heart raced, as I glanced around yet it was nowhere to be seen. Panicking, I ran but no matter how fast I travelled I couldn't escape the sense that something or someone was right behind me... once I thought I’d made enough distance I found myself tip toeing to better listen for what, if anything might be chasing me.  I didn’t want to be that close to Wretched Nobody, I don’t think his opponents do either.  I feel bad for Miseria and Adam Starr…  then I realized The Wretched Nobody was right in front of me yet again!

This barren cold soul, moist with being drenched in suffering from such a harsh, shallow place, this man reeks like death and as he gets nearer to me this stench does little to welcome me.   Breath by putrid breath he steps closer and closer.  Tomb stones, cold withering cement witnessing the same creepy silent laughter of guilt awaiting every shadow's lament.  Once you have walked on this lofty path of doom, you can never go back to the same person you were once. People die with joy, repentance and heavy hearts of sorrow, now I reap what they felt in this place in the strike of midnight's awakening scowl of revenge and injustice. Screeching silence awaits the camera toting trespasser coming from the cries of the dead. Hallows were born to guard this place, from intruders escaping their rightful place.

I say you should go with caution but just like Adam Starr, Miseria and that living abortion, Charlie Stevens, caution won’t protect you from My Wretched Nobody.  For in this grave yard, and that triple threat match as well as the remainder of the tournament to follow… death will sing. But let me warn you of your disgust, for soon you will rest in this place after you have been crushed.  This is Wretched Nobody’s collection of souls…  a person with heart can never take such a painful punishment for others sake. For death cannot bypass its owner for everyone has their own stone to remember.

The deafening silence is pierced suddenly and without warning by the deathly shriek from the tortured, blackened heart of Wretched Nobody, guiding Grace Brutal into view. Again, he appears behind her psychotically wailing like the reason to wake screaming for a child in bed, the terrible beast, the presence of neither would seem strange in this place – but strange is the only way to explain their appearance. The unending fog hangs around the stones of the dead like a heavy, suffocating sheath, casting a relentless misery on both Grace and Nobody, who both stand above the fallen camera man.  The fetid blackened is blood still dripping from the mangled mouth of The Wretched Nobody.  Still seeping from the sinister, unsettling smile that exists beneath Nobody’s contorted Comedy and Tragedy style fleshy mask.

{Camera Man - Cut away screen}The moonlight casts its eerie shadow on the path that lay ahead of me it seems to beckon with a ghostly glow that one can’t resist. Pulling, pushing, dragging – drawing me.  I spun the camera around looking for an escape even if it was away into the mist.  Suddenly I was silenced by the beauty of Grace, terrified by the power of The Wretched Nobody and utterly motionless through no fault of my own – unable to move, barely able to draw breath – paralyzed in horror as Grace knelt before me, an empty look in her eyes.  This woman has known pain and suffering much like her counterpart and much like her counterpart as well – she is distinctly detached from humanity.

…So… how have you enjoyed your trip?  Don’t bother answering, I can tell by the look on your paled face that this little visit has been everything we intended it to be.  Welcome to the place where all of Wretched Nobody’s victims come to rest.  Miseria will soon be here – so will Adam Starr.  So will whoever WWG is foolish enough to put in My Wretched Nobody’s path!   This girl wants Gold!  Wretched Nobody has promised me a golden title to hold for him and a stack of broken bodies… I’m not sure which I’d prefer to have.  So… I’ll just enjoy having them both.  Wretched Nobody has never let me down, and I have all the faith in this fragile world that this coming Carnage will be no different.  Carnage is where The Wretched Nobody thrives… Carnage is all he’s known as Compassion.  Carnage is going to be redefined for Adam Starr and Miseria.  Carnage that only My Wretched Nobody can bring them, like Miseria… a masked moron who believes he knows what “misery” is.  Misery is suffering into the very depths of one’s own being.  Misery… is having a stupid gimmick like “Miseria” – he claims My Wretched Nobody is in some way a fraud… when nothing at all could be farther from the truth.  Miseria is the one putting on airs. 

Miseria is the one pretending to be something he isn’t.  When he unlaces his boots and takes off his mask – he goes back to his otherwise tranquil, happy life.  The Wretched Nobody IS a Wretched Nobody.  Besides me – he has known no family, he has been shown no love, he has no comprehension of anything positive that makes humanity humane.  The Wretched Nobody is so detached from the world around him he sees no need to speak, he feels no compulsion to ramble on like Miseria does, because unlike that loud mouth – My Wretched Nobody is a man of action, unlike Miseria – Wretched Nobody is a Man, period! 

The parameters of the deep relationship The Wretched Nobody and I share far and exceeds the feeble, stumbling lengths the average fragile, pathetic mind reaches.  We are connected to our core, we are connected, hand in hand at the threshold of eternity just waiting to take that leap into oblivion.  So threats do not work on us… for I have him – and he has me.  No little lucha-douche is going to rattle us.  No amount of pointing out that My Wretched Nobody does not talk, is going to spare Miseria the humility of finding out what’s going to happen to him when he tries to play monster against an Inhuman, Inhumane entity like The Wretched Nobody.  Many a vicious thing does not speak…  Guns, Knives, Bombs, Disease and Natural Disasters don’t talk… Does Miseria think he’s somehow “Less wounded” by any of these?  He seems fairly unintelligent and absolutely uninspired… so perhaps he does hold that insignificant belief in himself, still the reality is… they are none of them any the less dangerous and deadly for it, now are they?  Mind you, not even that list of harmful matters is going to save Miseria from the fact that what The Wretched Nobody does best… is hurt others.  He is 

While Miseria feel obliged to hop, skip and prance around the ring, Nobody wastes no movement, including the flapping of a jaw that for now is too loose, and soon will be broken.  Misery, for once… you are coming up against something far worse than Misery… you are coming up against a soul that has known so much suffering and plight – he is genuinely numb to it.  What you need to worry about isn’t calling yourself a monster, when you aren’t.  What you need to worry about is that… even if you make it through to the next round of this Tournament… still… as great, as frightful, as misery inducing as you so foolishly believe you are - Nobody Can Beat You!

Grace stands back up, without warning or hesitation, The Wretched Nobody steps forward and grabs up the camera man pulling him back to his feet.  The Wretched Nobody, still slobbering his putrid mess of old blood – spews a huge gob into the camera turning everything we see to black.

{Camera Man - Cut away screen} So that’s MY week!  Let me tell you something… this company doesn’t pay enough to validate this kind of psycho crap!  My camera was ruined after that!  It’s almost as if what he had in his mouth was acidic or something, except acid doesn’t burn through glass – and the entire lens of my camera melted away!  That is my responsibility… Jackson Green was furious, and I nearly lost my job – all because WWG employs freaks, mutants and lunatics!  This USE to be a wrestling federation, now it’s seeming a lot more like a circus side show gone awry!  Once more, I tell you… once more with one of these looped out weirdos in masks and I’ll quit!  Next time The Wretched Nobody is set to do an interview, shop the job out to someone who hasn’t had to do two of his promos!

Angry and put out, the camera man crosses his arms with a sour scowl on his face as the scene fades to black.