Bad Blood Hell In The Cell: Johnny Rude Vs Jason Storm Part 1

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Bad Blood Hell In The Cell: Johnny Rude Vs Jason Storm Part 1

Post  Stan Daniels on Fri Jan 21, 2011 10:16 am

PPV: MASTER OF THE ROPES
BAD BLOOD HELL IN THE CELL

–v--

STORM -------------------------------------------VERSUS------- JOHNNY B. RUDE

DETAILS:In case you haven’t noticed, these two legends who built their names in Wrassle.net hate each other. Not that ‘oooooh, I’m gonna get you’ kind of hate, but a genuine, deep in your bones, I’d like to see him die kind of HATE. Since we needed a cage at ringside for the main event, we thought…..why not get some extra use out of it? So its Hell in the Cell for these two! Winner gets to add whatever stips they want to the next title match the other one receives.

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So much weight.

Inferno was still out there with his mystery partner in crime Loki and his new found lackey Omega.

Joe was missing.

Jason's brother Brett was stuck in the mental ward of the hospital still convinced he killed Ed despite the mounting evidence that he didn't. It was obvious Inferno had something to do with it.

The Hot Girls waiting on Jason's decision. Wondering if he'd be a slave for a month or allow the footage to go public.

The Pay Per View was already underway.

And in a few minutes, Jason would be stuck inside a cell with a man who had caused almost as much damage to the Emerson family as Inferno had. A Man Jason hated with every fiber of his being.

Yes.....The Weight of the world felt like it was resting on Jason's shoulders.

And here's the catch.....can you believe it's going to get worse?

Sitting now in his locker room taping his fists, Json reflects back on his past with Rude. Twice before scheduled for this big blow up the fans had been waiting for for years......Johnny opted out of the first match due to personal reasons. Had Jason been his old self, He would have used that and called him coward. The next time was going to be for the X-Factor Championship in this rebirth of Fed X. However, Jason was unable to make it due to a leg injury suffered at the hands of Alan Scott. Rude will tell you he's chicken. Problem is no one believed that, not even Rude.

Now, On this night, It seemed the only way fate would stop this epic match up between two rivals who's hate for each other transcened the actuas word hate, was if one of them died outright in the next few minutes.

Holding his cross necklace in his hand Now, He opens his mind and allows all the bad memories flow back in. All the things Rude did to Brett, All the vile things he did to Kitty and Faith. All the mindless violence he'd unleashed on anyone who stood in his way. He let it flow and he allowed his own mind to feed on it. In his capacity as a born again Christain, Jason knew that revenge was never the answer. Perhaps a few months ago, Jason might have even tried to help Rude cure himself of his own evils.

But that was then and this was now. For tonight, There would be no prayer, There would be no forgivness, For one night only, Jason was going to put it all on the shelf. He placed the cross necklace in his locker and shut the door.

Jason: I only hope when all is said and done you can forgive me lord.....but tonight I need to deal with this abomination of a man my way....and that means letting some old things out to play.

Closing his locker, Jason stood up and headed for the door. Holding the doorknob in his hand, He took a deep breath, Centered himself, and then opened it. Sure enough, waiting there with her trusty camera man was Shelly Simmons.

Shelly: Jason, How about a piece for the camera before you head out to face Rude?

Storm: First off....you address me as Storm tonight....and second...why? So you can make more false accusations against me?

Shelly: Well.....Rumor has it you did see the Hot Girls and there may be another tape out there.....But no. I won't do what I did early. I promise.

Storm: Fine. Have at it.

Shelly: Excellent. In 3, 2, 1....Hi, I'm Shelly Simmons live backstage with the man about to face Johnny Rude in a ce....OOF!

Jason expertly shoves Shelly out of frame while ripping the mic from her hand. He looks into the camera with death in his eyes.....then gives everyone in the arena and at home something that haven't seen in some time.

That old Cocky Grin.

Storm: Hey Rude! You listening? Of course you are. You're listening to me right now expecting me to come out here and talk about my new faith, the lord, repenting, and all that other good stuff.......but guess what?

I'm leaving all that in the locker room. Now listen up and listen close fuck stain. I've dealt with you and your bullshit long enough. All the shit you've done to me and my family? You pay for it tonight Rude.

I'm going to bleed you......I'm going to lead you to the fucking slaugther house tonight and when I'm done with you....all that will be left is little bitty pieces of Rude By-product. You know...the nasty shit they scrap off the floor to make shitty meats with? That'll be you.

They say that when you die, You'll stand before God to be Judged.

You won't have to worry about that Rude....because tonight you stand before me to be judged. The trial will be quick, The sentance swift, and your execution.....will be very very painful.

Tonight Rude....win or lose....I promise you one thing.

You WILL Reap what you sow!

Jason flips the mic back to Shelly who stands still for a moment.....and then moves in with her mic.

Shelly: Strong words indeed. A little stronger then I think anyone expected. Now forgive me for asking but Rumor has it the Hot Girls have another tape of you beating up Eve. Rumor also has it they want you to be there slave for a month or the footage will be aired to the world. IF this is true? Do you have anything to say to them?

Storm just stares at here for a minute as if she has a booger on the end of her nose......then he shoves her aside and heads towards the ring entance.

Shelly: Well.....I guess that must mean no comment. Let's take it back to Ringside.

Now standing in the back by the tech table. He waits.

The tech gives him the signal as the sounds of "Time Of Dying" By Three Days Grace begins to fill the arena. He nods, skipping his normal prayer routine and walks through the curtain all business.





The moment the fans see him the boos start to come. Some of them even have signs that say such things as "Born Again My Ass", "Storm Beats Chicks", To "Screw You Abuser".

Not everyone believes it as there are still some cheers here and there but it's clear the majority of the crowd is showing a healthy dislike for the face.

Paragon: Jason Storm making his way down the ramp now and it appears alot of the fans buy the footage they saw.

Proctor: I for one hope it's true. I liked Storm better when he was a self centered selfish asshole myself. That was way better then Mr bible Thumper.

Paragon: Why does that NOT suprise me?

Storm is now in the ring forgoing the usual "Slapping hands with the fans" routine. . He glances high above his head to see the cell hanging from the ceiling....and then he turns his attention to the ramp.

Waiting for his most hated rival ever.

Tbc......

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Hell In A Cell. Johnny Rude had been in a few of them. As a matter of fact, not long ago, he was inside a similar structure during a Death Match against his former lady love, Demonica Vile. Only, that cell had the ring ropes replaced with barbed wire. This match didn't have that level of brutality to it right out of the gate. That isn't to say that they wouldn't reach that level. Oh no, Rude was absolutely positive that tonight would be one of the hardest matches of his career.


So why was he all smiles? Well, why the hell wouldn't he be? He had a chance to deal a fatal blow to the Emerson family. To him, this was like Christmas In Candy Land. Now, normally, Rude would have spend hours studying Storm and his fighting style. He would have to stand in front of a mirror and psyche himself up. No, not this time. To Johnny, he had believed that he saw all that needed to be seen from Storm. Also, he really didn't believe that even with all the skill Storm had, he would be a real threat.


To Johnny B. Rude, Storm was a lamb, trapped in a cage with a very hungry, very cruel wolf. He finished tossing the last of the weapons inside of the cage. Whistling as he did this, he placed a pair of heavy duty work gloves onto his hands. He then took a small coil of razor wire and shoved that into the trash can as well. After this was finished, he took the can and made his way out of the locker room. Shelly approached him for an interview, but he walked right past her. Now was not the time for talk.


The lights in the arena dropped. Fireworks burst their way up the ramp as Marilyn Manson's. "The Fight Song," plays. Storm glares at the entrance way waiting for his hated rival to appear. His muscles tense as he gets tunnel vision from his focus on the target of his hate. The video of Rude plays, a mix of his more violent moments with offending images plays as the fans boo and jeer. Jason Storm was right where Johnny Rude wanted him. The Antichrist Superstar slid into the ring with the trash can and slammed it into the back of Jason Storm's head.






Jason Emerson hits the ground with a thud and places both hands at the back of his head. His legs flailed around for a moment as his face was contorted in anguish. The referee sees the trash can and attempts to ask Rude to remove it. Johnny however, would not allow this. Rude drove a knee into his gut and DDT'd him onto the can. Once this was done, he opened the lid and dumped all sorts of weapons onto the mat. Once this was finished, he grabbed the barbed wire he had brought and began to unravel it.


Keeping an eye on Jason, Rude knew that he had to act quickly. And so, as soon as the wire was unraveled, he wrapped one end of it to the referee's neck in a noose-style format. He then took the other end and tied it to Storm's ankle as tightly as he could. Rude then stood over the referee, one foot on his back.


Rude: Jason, Jason, Jason....how've ya been? Hold on now, don't try and get up. Really, don't try and get up. You see Storm, the life of this poor official is now in your hands. The amount of slack between you and he is short, which means you can't go very far from our pathetic official. If you do, the wire tightens, and the ref may find himself headless in the morning.



Storm: This is weak...even for you. Where are your ba-


Rude: Shut up, white hat!


Rude drives a boot into Storm's face. This caused Storm's body to move away somewhat from the ref, the barbed "noose" tightening somewhat. A sadistic smile curved the lips of The Antichrist Superstar as he grabbed a staple gun from the mat. The cell was now almost completely lowered, leaving no man in that ring a route for escape.


John: This is sick! Now Rude is assaulting Fed X staff! If I weren't retired, I'd put an end to this!


Hank: It is sick, but there is a certain brilliance to it.


John: Only for someone who revels in mystery as you do!


Hank: Storm is in a tough spot now...the old Storm would give a damn less about a ref. What would THIS Storm do?

Well, what would you do?

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Timing

It was all about timing.

Rude was grabbing a staple gun, The ref had a noose of barbed wire around his neck that was connected to Storm's ankle. One pull and the barbs would constrict around the ref's neck. The cell was about 2 feet from touching the ground.

Normally, Jason would do whatever he could to fend off Rude without hurting and innocent.

Too bad "Jason", for the most part, was left in the locker room. Rude had the gun and was making his way back towards Storm. As he closed in, Storm made his decision. Pus,hing himself up quickly, Storm got to his feet and when Rude was in range he burst forward nailing Rude in the gut with a spear. Rude went down hard while the barbed wire noose tightened around the Ref's neck. Rolling away from Rude a few feet, Storm reached down and began to pull the barbed wire from his foot. The tape on his fists helped slightly but he still got more cuts then he bargined for.

Getting himself free, He glanced over to see Rude sitting up. His open window was about to close. Storm crawled across the ring quickly to the ref who lay on that mat flaying and pulling at the wire around his throat. With one solid push, Storm was able to shove the man out of the ring and watched as he barely fit under the cell.

As the cell hit the ground the ref was now outside. Storm stood up and looked at two of the ringworkers standing nearby.

Storm: Get The EMT's out here for him NOW!

Storm then turned to see where Rude was only to feel the pierce of the metal staple in his shoulder.

Paragon: I'm stunned that Storm seemed to have little regard for the innocnet ref.

Proctor: I'm not, I knew this whole born again thing was a ruse.

Paragon: Although he did shove him to a place where he could receive help.

Proctor: A ruse.

Paragon: I don't know, He's paying the price now as Rude turns him into a human pin cushion with that staple gun.

Two more audible "Pop Pop's" can be heard as two more staples find thier way into Storm's shoulder. Before he can defend hismelf, Rude slams the gun into his temple sending him to the mat. He then stradles Storm standing over him ready to inflict further damage.....but alas Storm has other ideas.

He brings his foot up square into Rude's crotch.

The Antichrist Superstar falls to the mat as the staple gun bounces a few feet away from him on the mat.

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Two hours prior to the start of the pay per view.

Everything is ready to go and for the moment....the arena sits empty.....with the exception of one person who's busy placing certain "items" in, under, and around the ring for use later tonight.

If a camera would have been around, It might have picked up Storm heading to the back with a smile on his face.

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Paragon: Rude is down after that low blow

Proctor: See! More proof that Storm is a phony. What kinda christian would kick someone in the nuts.

Paragon: You do what you have to in a match like this with a guy like Rude.

Proctor: Or if you've been lying about your change of heart all this time.

PAragon: *sigh* Storm is up and heading for the corner. I think he's going to fly.........no....What's he doing? Wait, what is that? He just pulled something out from under the turnbuckle pad.

Proctor: Brass Knuckles! How Christain! You see! I told you!

Storm slides the knuckles over his right hand and then turns back to see Rude getting to his knees. Moving around behind him, Jason waits till he pushes himself up and then blindsides him. The brass makiing contact with the side of Rude's head......drawing blood.

With Rude down again, Storm grabs the staple gun off the mat and goes straiught for his nemesis.

Storm: I told you I wasn't fucking around Rude. I hope you didn't expect a cakewalk.

Rude: Fuck you!

Storm: No Johnny......*POP POP POP*...............FUCK YOU!!

He actually manages to pop a few staples of his own into Rude's back before catching an elbow right in the mouth. The blow staggers Storm and sends him down to his ass dead center in the ring.

A trickle of blood flowing from the corner of his mouth.

tbc.....

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There were staples in his shoulder. They felt like constant bites from insects compared to the surprise on the face of Rude. The referee gag didn't quite work out the way he had hoped. Add to that the weapon hidden under the turnbuckle and Johnny began to believe that perhaps he had bitten off more than he could chew. Add to the searing ball pain he was now feeling and over all, he was NOT having a good day.


The elbow to the face which Storm had recieved sent him to the mat. It wouldn't last long though. Storm was driven by nearly and year and some change of Johnny Rude torturing his younger brother. If you added all of the incidents together anyway. The night Maverick called him, completely off the cuff, and sobbingly told his brother of what Johnny had did to Kitty was fresh in his mind. Then there was the TWO times Rude had taken Faith and tortured her mercilessly. Much blood has been spilt by the self-proclaimed Antichrist Superstar. And it would end tonight.


Jason Storm pushed himself back to his feet with relative ease. Even with staples in his shoulder, he felt nigh invincible. Rude saw his foe storming toward him and his eyes widened to the size of saucers. He began to try and crawl away from then desciple of Joe Power. Jason grabbed him by the leg and began dragging him toward the middle of the ring. Rude clawed at the mat in hopes of avoiding his fate. He failed, and this was made abundantly clear by the fact that Storm was pulling him up to his feet. He then lifted Rude off of his feet and held him over his shoulders. He waited a few moments as he walked toward the ropes. Storm then slammed the body of Johnny B. Rude over the ropes and onto the hard concrete below.


Rude screamed and bounced off of the ground. He flailed about and rolled toward the wall of the cage. As big as he acted, as massive as he talked, Johnny Rude was a mere six feet and five inches, weighing at one hundred and seventy pounds. This means that most people, like Storm, could toss him around with relative ease. Johnny grabbed a hold of the cage and began to try and pull himself up. Before he could though, Jason Storm was on him again.


John: This is what I like to see. A vile human being getting what he deserves.


Hank: What he deserves? You're such a....a...racist.


John: A RACIST?


Hank: Yes, you're prejudiced toward the bad guys.


John: I'm not...that's rediculous!


Storm grabbed a hold of Johnny B. Rude. He slammed his face into the cage. The cage responded with a loud clang which echoed through the arena. With his face still against the metal, Storm decided to grind it in. The Antichrist Superstar groaned as his face tasted steel. Jason then whipped him toward the opposite end of the cage. Instead of hitting it, Johnny hits the ring post. The fans pop as the sound of skull hitting steel reverberates throughout the ringside area. Rude hits the ground again and writhed in pain.


A sadistic smile curved the lips of Jason Storm. All of the goodness he had clung to seemed to fade away at the sight of The Antichrist Superstar in pain. He wanted to amplify that pain ten fold. To make Rude feel all of the agony and hurt he had caused in everyone else. The Real Deal lifted his prey up to his feet once more. He then raised the smaller man up over his head. This wasn't enough, though, and Storm pushed his arms up as far as he could, elevating Johnny further into the air. He then power slams him onto the steel steps back first.


Johnny's body once again bounces off of the stairs and he flails about in sheer agony. When he finally stays on the ground, Rude tries to crawl away from Storm again.


John: Storm is just in complete control here.


Hank: Yeah, and he did it at the cost of his own humanity. Good job, Jesus lover!


John: Will you EVER stop?


Hank: Hmm...lemme think...nope. Storm is a two-faced dick.


John: Sometimes it is a chore working with you. Anyway, Johnny is trying to escape again. Storm has him up and...Johnny just threw something into his eyes.


It was true. As he crawled away, his free hand reached into his pants and pulled out a small bag of salt. He held it firmly in that hand and waited for Storm to pick him up again. When he did, Rude tossed the salt into his eyes. Jason groaned and quickly covered his eyes with his hands. He turned his back on his opponent, which was certainly a mistake. Johnny reached into the ring and grabbed a cane which was inside the trash can earlier. He slammed the cane into the back of Storm and sent him forward. One more hit, and Storm was on one knee.


Johnny moved so that he would face Storm. He hit the man with the cane again and sent his head into the side of the cage. Storm's head thudded against it rather forcefully. Rude then brought the cane under the chin of his foe and strangle him. He placed a knee into his back and pushed forward, causing Storm's face to press against the steel wall while the air was being choked out of him from the cane.


TBC By ????

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Constriction

The air flow is cut off.

The lungs work harder.

The heart beats faster

And yet the precious air is not to be found.

Storm could feel himself fading as Rude pulled back even harder on the cane. Then every few seconds, He would lean forward sending Storm's face into the side of the unforgiving steel. Storm knew if he didn't find a way out of this quickly, the game might be over before it even had a chance to begin. Being wedged between the narrow area left by the cell and it's proximity to the ring, Moving around wasn't much of an option.

Lucky for Storm, that worked both ways. As Rude pulled back once more, the millisecond lax of pressure on his throat was all Storm needed. He whipped his head to the right and sank his teeth deep into the index finger and knuckle of Rude's right hand. The blood from Rud'e hand ran out of Storm's mouth staining his cheeks crimson. With nothing do do but let go, The cane flipped hard into the steel wall and snapped in two. One piece remained in Rude's left hand while the other fell to the floor.

In an effort to gain his freedom from the severe pain coursing up his right arm, Johnny beat Storm over the back of the head with the broken piece of cane. Not wanting to let go, Storm sank his teeth deeper into Rude's hand.....while reaching for the other piece of cane.

Then....Like poetry in motion.....Both men had the exact same idea at the exact same time.

Paragon: Rude just stabbed Storm in the shoulder with the broken cane!!

Proctor: Storm Just Stabbed Rude in the calf with that broken cane!!

Paragon & Proctor: What?!?!

Yes folks and fans watching at home. It was in fact a double stabbing. Rude sinking the broken piece of cane into the fleshy meat of Storm's shoulder, Storm sinking his piece of the cane into the fleshy meat of Rude's calf.

Cries of pain, Screams of agony from both men....and yet Rude was able to keep the upper hand......thanks to a bit of left over salt.

As Storm pulled his teeth out of Rude's hand, He yanked out the cane. Rude in turn reached down and yanked the sticking piee of cane out of his own leg. Both men were staggered, But Rude had enough precesnce of mind to pull out another small bag of salt...open it....and fling it at the open wound in Storm's shoulder.

Paragon: Salt on the open wound and now Storm is screaming like he's on fire.

Rude wasted little time. He climbed back in the ring and found the shirt he'd worn down to the ring laying in the corner. He ripped a piece off and tied it around the wound on his calf. With that tied off he limped back across the ring as Storm used the apron to pull himself back inside.

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4 hours before the pay per view

Jason: So you understand the plan then? Both of you?

???: ..................

???: ..................

Jason: Good. Then take care of that first. Once that's done call me.

???: ...................

Jason: Talk to you soon.

*Click*

Jason: Now you understand your second part in this?

???:..............

Jason: Good. Timing is everything. You'll find the keys where I said you';d find them. Make sure you keep on schedule.

???: ....................

Jason: Until then.

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Remembering that conversation brought a smile to Storm's face even through the pain. That smile however ouwld be short lived as Rude stalked back across the ring with a pair of plyers in his hand. One boot to the head was enough of an opening for Rude. He straddled Jason's back as if going for a camel clutch only to grab ahold of Storm's nose with the plyers and pull back.

The sound of Storm's nose breaking sounded like a gun shot across the arena.

More of Storm's own blood poured out of his nose across his face much like water flows from a busted pipe.

Luckly for Storm, The plyers didn't hold thier place long but took a chunk of his skin with them when they slid off.

Rude stood up holding his arms up with a smile as the crowd let him have it. Storm clutched his nose and rolled over on his back.

Paragon: I thin it's become clear that these two men will do whatever it takes to kill each other.

Procotor: And don't forget, It's also clear that Storm is a two faced dick!

Paragon: Oh do shut up!

Back in the ring, with still no sign of a referee, Rude stalked back over to Storm intent on doing more damage with the plyers. As he reached down for Storm, Storm grabbed a handful of Rude's pants and pulled him forward sending him head first between the bottom and second rope headlong into the side of the cell.

Getting to his knees, Storm wiped away the blood gushing from his nose and tried to focus his watering stinging eyes. Moving as best he could with a large hole in his shoulder, He rolled out of the ring and went under the ring apron.

As Rude got back to his feet he looked over just in time to see Storm plop a large case on the ring apron. With two flicks of the latches he opened the case and a very evil, vile smile replaced the pain.

Rude's eyes grew wide again as Storm pulled out his trademark Barbed wire wrapped sledgehammer.

Back in the day before he found his faith, Storm used to call his hammer "American Express"......because he never left home without it.

Closing the case and shoving it to the floor, Jason began to stalk a limping Johnny Rude around the ring.

Tbc.......

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Storm was stalking Johnny Rude. Both men had already dialed the match up a level and done things to each other that should not, and would not happen in even the most vicious of matches. They were surrounded by the cell, which allowed for them to get out of the ring, and work on the cold, smooth concrete floor, and also to get some very good leverage when they chose to use the unyielding steel of the ring itself as a weapon.

John: Rude has a serious limp from the gash that Storm put into him Hank, and now he’s trying to get himself away from Storm who’s found his old standby weapon!

Hank: What we’re seeing right now folks is Storm’s true nature. He can make all the little speeches he wants, but at heart he’s a lying, evil bastard.

John: Oh? And what is Johnny Rude?

Hank: Honest!

John: Witty but that…..wait a minute…..is that?......it is!

Hank: What is Alan doing coming down the ramp? Is he……is he wearing black and white?

John: WOW.

Alan Scott was scheduled to be inside the steel cage in the very next match, but on a card that he was making clear to everyone was ‘HIS CARD’ Alan was making yet another appearance in somebody else’s match. Alan was wearing the black and white of the referee’s jersey, something that wouldn’t have been necessary in the match if not for the actions of one Johnny Rude. The irony was not lost on anyone who was familiar with the recent exchanges between Rude and Alan.

Storm paused for a moment and looked at Alan as he opened the cage door and walked into the killing zone. Storm was not worried about the weapon in his hands, but seeing Alan nod at him to continue stalking Rude brought a slight smile to Storm’s face. Clearly everything was going his way thus far, and Johnny was indeed reaping what he had sown. Alan rolled into the ring and walked across the ring and leaned over the top rope to smile at Rude, who did not look nearly as pleased to see Alan.

Alan: So….you’re going to play ‘THE BIG CHILL’ with me huh Johnny?

Alan paused and scratched his head as Storm rounded the corner and Johnny turned his attention back to Storm and tried to get a little more mobility out of his injured leg. Alan, of course, didn’t let that deter him at all.

Alan: You may want to reconsider that position….

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You know, the rafter is a totally cool place to hang out. True! Believe me, it is. I should ask my beloved to totally turn it into a HOT zone and not an area for totally spooky and dark and demonic people to hang out in.

Things weren’t going well for the ‘Antichrist Superstar’. Nope, they weren’t!

Storm had produced his play toy of old days ‘American Express’ and things only got worse with Alan Scott making his entrance.

Rylan: Gosh! I hate that thing!

Yep! Rylan hated the ‘American Express’. Storm had used that stupid sledgehammer to shatter his ankle in Japan.

Hank: It is a safe bet to say that the ‘Antichrist Superstar’, Johnny Rude, is, well, ****ed.

John: True! With Johnny’s leg injured, the return of ‘American Express’ and the arrival of Alan Scott, Johnny is totally ****ed.

Rylan Wheeeeeeeeee!

The sound echoed in the arena as everyone looked around to find the source of it. Out of the blue, Rylan popped up before Storm, floating in mid-air.

John: Oh my god! An angel has descended from above.

Hank: That’s just Rylan Hearn.

With a hand, Rylan grabbed ‘American Express’ and with the other, punched Storm in the nose with Miss Knuckles. Storm let out a cry as he let go of ‘American Express’ to hold his hurting nose. As quickly as he had dropped, Rylan was being reeled back up by the rope he was hanging from.

It all happened too fast for Storm or Alan to react. Alan looked up to see Rylan waving down at them with a winsome smile on his face as he was being reeled up to the rafters.

John: Unbelievable! Rylan just dropped from the rafters and seized the infamous sledgehammer known as ‘American Express’.

Hank: Impossible is totally nothing.

Storm turned to look at the blood on his hand pouring out from his now broken nose. He looked up to the rafters and cursed.

Storm: You son of a *****!

Rylan *mouthing*: You should never ever take your eyes of off Johnny-poo, Stormy.

Storm *under his breath*: God! I hate that annoying brat

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It had all gone according to plan.

Smooth.

Without a hitch.

Rylan came down from the roof gliding down like an angel from above. He had nailed Storm with his Knuckles, Plucked the sledge away from Storm, and was gone in a flash thus evening things up for his master Johnny Rude.

At least that's what Rylan THOUGHT happened.......For you see folks, Rylan made one critical error.

He had repelled down from the rafters face first into the top of the cell knocking himself out cold. In his haste to perhaps "Please" his master and show how "Worthy" he was, Rylan must have got a bit confused thinking they were in a steel cage. So imagine everyone's suprise when the kid came flying down all "Gun-Ho" only to slam into the cell roof.

Storm, Rude, and Alan all looiked up at the cell roof. Alan chuckled, Storm shrugged, and Rude could only sigh and say....

Rude: Idiot.

You had to give the brat credit for trying though. At least his unconscious mind could ease his pain for later when he woke up, he would indeed feel a little stupid. Altthough he might be please to know he was hauled back into the rafters....making that part of the story factual.

Paragon: Ok, You don't see that everyday.

Proctor: I have to agree, You don't....But it did serve a purpose.

Paragon: What? Comic relief?

Proctor: No, but it was a mighty fine distraction as Rude chops Storm in the throat!

Rylan may have looked like an ass but Proctor was correct, His plunge into the top of the cell did have on positive impact for Rude. He was able to catch Storm looking up. The chop to the throat was enough for Storm to instictively drop the sledge and raise both hands to his throat.

Almost falling, Rude scrambled to grab "American Express". Storm coughed and hacked, then saw Rude going for his favorite playtoy. He took a step foward but Rude already had the devastating weapon......which he brought up with great force into the midsection of his advisery......the barbed wire wrapped around the head of the sledge digging into the flesh of his stomach.

As Storm fell to his knees, It was Rude's turn to look up at Scott with a smirk.

Rude: Suck A Dick Scott!

Scott only looked at Rude with Distain. Storm in the meantime was on his knees clutching his stomach. Rude limped over to him and yanked Storm's head up with a handful of hair. He smiled at Storm and then cocked the sledge back. Bringing it forward, He nailed Storm across the forehead busting him open. Storm flopped back on the mat as more of his blood spilled.

Proctor: Now THAT is what I'm talking about right there! It's about time that Two faced dick got what he deserved. Rude's going to work him over with that sledge and this one friends is academic. Rude is "Going" to win.

Paragon: I wouldn't count Storm out just yet.

Proctor: Oh really? And why's that?

Paragon: Storm is smiling....that's why.

Perhaps the newer generation of wrestling fan might not know this little fact but the old generation certainly knew this one fact. Throughout his career, One thing that made Storm rise above the rest of the crop was his intense desire, almost want, to get off on his own pain. Where others would falter and fail, Storm somehow drew strength from his own pain, turning it to his own advantage.

Rude couldn't help but looked stunned.....for he had done what no other had done in quite some time. He'd awoke a sleeping giant inside his arch nemesis. Aware now more then ever, Rude had succedded in bringing out the old "Vintage" Storm. Something he wasn't exactly happy about.

As Storm sat up, Rude rammed the sledge into his forehead again.

This time there was no smile as Storm lay on his back bleeding all over the floor. Rude waited a few seconds and when Storm didn't move, He climbed back into the ring.

Paragon: With Storm out cold, It looks like Rude is going to turn his attention towards Alan Scott.

Proctor: Good! Rude needs to teach him a lesson for sticking his nose in where it doesn't belong.

With the sledge cocked back and ready to fly, Rude stalked forward towards Alan.

Rude: So fuck stick.....you wanna dance? Seems my current dance partner is taking a little nap.

Alan: Big talk from a guy toting a sledgehammer.

Rude: What? This little thing? Oh I won't beat you to death with it. Jam it up your ass maybe.

Alan: Really?

Rude: Fucking Really.

Alan: Oh I'm thinking that's not gonna happen.

Rude: And why the fuck not huh? Do tell.

Alan: I think He's going to have something to say about that.

Rude: Who?

Alan: Him.

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20 minutes prior to the Pay Per View

Jason: Everything is in place?

???: ....................

Jason: All Of Them?

???: .....................

Jason: Good. Did you find the keys?

???: ........................

Jason: Excellent. Everything has been taken care of, You should have no problems getting in and out without a hitch.

???: .....................

Jason: Trust me, It'll do wonders. Just make sure everything is ready.

???: .....................

Jason: You'll know when.

???: ........................

Jason: Yes. Goodbye.

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After Climbing back in the ring, Rude didn't see Storm reach under the ring. Nor did he see him get to his knees, Pull himself up, or slide back in the ring behind him.

Now back on his feet, Storm waited for Rude to turned, Poised with a large mirror over his head......and not the flimsy thin kinda mirror but one of those heavy duty thick mirrors.

When Rude turned around, Storm brought the mirror crashing down over his head. Shards of the broken mirror went everywhere showering Rude, Storm, and Scott. Rude dropped "American Express" and fell to the mat.......his blood now joining Storm's in staining the mat crimson.

Paragon: That's just...well...sick. If you have small children watching I suggest you send them into another room.

Proctor: This needs to be stopped! Rude has a huge chunk of mirror sticking out of the top of his head!!

Indeed Rude did. Storm reached down and reclaimed his trusty trademark weapon. Holding it over his head with one hand, Storm looked down at Rude.

Storm: You think this is pain Rude? I haven't even STARTED YET!!

tbc.....

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Rylan slowly came around after like totally embarrassing himself. He raised a hand to hold his throbbing head.

Rylan: Ow! My head hurt!

inZane: You sir, are the biggest moron I have ever known.

Rylan: What happened?

inZane: Let’s just say you just made a huge arse of yourself, halfwit.

Rylan: Could you please not shout. My head hurts.

inZane: ****ing idiot!

Rylan: Are you going to tell me what happened or not?

inZane: You like totally dropped and smacked yourself against the roof of the cage.

Rylan: What? How is that possible?

inZane: Well…

Rylan: I swear I saw myself grabbing that stupid sledgehammer and then…

inZane: Well… I think you were fantasising.

Rylan: What do you mean by ‘I was fantasising’.

inZane: Well, you were going over your plan on how to steal the sledgehammer and you know when you’re planning something, your mind plays it all out for you. And before you knew it, you went “wheeeeeee”. I tried to stop you and warn you about the cage but it was a little too late.

Rylan: Aww! That just bloody sucks.

inZane: Yep!

Rylan: Johnny isn’t going to be pleased that I made a fool out of myself and him as well.

inZane: Not at all!

Rylan: Oh, boy!

inZane: You really need to start watching some wrestling.

inZane totally meant that.

inZane: If you did watch wrestling, you may have been able to have told the difference between the cages.

Rylan: I thought all cages were the same and haven’t got a roof.

inZane: Nope, some have got roof.

Rylan: Curses!

inZane: Yeah! Remind me to get you a wrestling DVD after this is over so you can watch and be able to tell the difference. And try to learn some real moves instead of stealing DDT move descriptions off Wikipedia.

Rylan: Aww! You didn’t just say that and out my secret.

inZane: It’s for you own good so you don’t make a fool of yourself every time like this.

Rylan: Yeah! I guess you’re right.

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Alan looked at Rude, who was struggling to get back to his knees after the last collision with Storm, and he smiled. The best thing about Rude not reacting to anything he did was that Rude couldn’t allow himself to react to anything Alan did. It was s elf-perpetuating prophecy, and Alan knew that in order to remain true to his goals, Rude would have to ignore anything that Alan did to him. So as Alan walked up behind him, and reached into his tights to produce some small cylinder shaped object, everyone at ringside felt certain that it was a roll of dimes, and Alan was about to compromise Storm’s match for his own HEAT.

Not necessary.

John: Alan grabbing Rude’s head in a headlock and…………then he lets it go. What was the point of tha……oh. OH no. Johnny won’t like that.

Hank: Hey! How did Johnny end up with ‘hot pink’ lipstick on? He just looks ridiculous! Did Storm do that?

John: I think you need to stop whatever game you’re playing right now Hank.

Hank: I don’t know what you’re talking about. Hey! Rude’s up! Something put some adrenaline back into him.

True, but what Rude didn’t know was what Alan had done. It was kind of hard to focus on that after having large items smashed over his head, and taking the beating he had taken. He knew Alan had grabbed him for some purpose, but not what exactly. Even if he did know, how would he deal with it. If he wiped it off, he had to acknowledge what Alan had done. If he reacted, Alan would win, and Rude could not have that. Of course the situation worked to Rude’s advantage at that moment, because he didn’t know he was starting to look a little bit too much like a hooker.

Rude fought the urge to turn and glare at Alan, because he knew that his attention was what Alan wanted. Instead he stalked after Storm, who was picking himself up at the same time. Rude spun Storm around, but The Real Deal knocked Rude grip loose and then pulled back to throw a haymaker…..right before he stopped dead and started laughing. Rude frowned. He drove a knee into Storm’s stomach, and sent him toppling back to the canvas, which helped to bring Storm back to his senses.

The shock of seeing his opponent with hot pink lipstick had shaken him for a moment, and the laughter had been genuine and honest. As Rude moved to kick Storm in the head the Emmerson brother rolled under the bottom rope and to the arena floor, where he looked up at Rude and with a very obvious gesture wiped a tear of laughter from his eye. Rude stared at him, trying to figure out what the hell he was up to.

And then it occurred to him. Alan had done something!

Rude pushed it to the back of his mind. He didn’t care. Whatever it was, it wasn’t hurting him, so he could ignore it. And in ignoring it, he would win the game within the game. Instead he launched himself suddenly over the top rope at Storm, catching the other man off his guard.

Alan?

He just kept watching. He wasn’t done yet

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Rude's body went flying over the top rope. He landed on an unprepared Storm with great fury. Their bodies fell to the ground from the massive impact. The fans were on their feet after seeing such a daring spot. However, Johnny Rude had not done it for them. No, his reasonings were much more selfish: He wanted to cause Jason Storm pain. Thus far, nothing had worked out quite as Johnny Rude had planned. He blamed himself and his foolish hubris for the situation he was currently in.


That, and Rylan Hearn's lack of knowledge of the varying cages of the wrestling community. The bodies of Rude and Storm lie on the concrete below. They move with the effort it takes for each man to draw in breath. The match had gone on for a fair amount of time and already it would seem as though they had completely decimated one another. However, if his match with Acid Ed was any indication, Johnny Rude could endure a fair amount of punishment. It must have been God's twisted way of compensating for the lack of size of Johnny.


Neither man showed signs of stirring. The sight of destruction that was their bodies was a bit off-put by the make up which Alan Scott had applied to The Antichrist Superstar. This had amused Storm earlier, and that amusement had somehow given Rude the opportunity he needed to turn the tides of battle. Now, it seemed, they were on even footing. Storm was the first to stir. He slowly crawled toward the cage wall. His muscles seared with pain as he pulled himself up to his feet. When he turned around he saw that his opponent was trying to get up as well.


Hank: Storm has somehow found the power to get to his feet. Damn, is this two-faced dick unkillable?


John: No, but what he is is rightfully furious at all that Rude has done to him and his.


Hank: Speaking of him, I gotta say, I like Scott's...I mean, I wonder what made Storm laugh?


John: Why, Alan Scott's make up trick, that's what.


Hank: What on earth are you babbling about? Look, Storm's um, doing a wrestling move!


Storm wasn't actually performing a wrestling move. Not in the strictest sense, in any case. A satisfied smile curved his bruised and bloodstained visage as he bashed his bitter opponent's face into the hard steel. He didn't do this once or twice, but several times. As a matter of fact, it seemed almost unending. After about five or six strikes, Storm's opponent placed a hand on the stairs. Rude then grabbed Storm's face and jabbed his fingers into the man's eyes. The Real Deal groaned and backed away. The former X-Factor champion, Johnny Rude, would waste no time turning the tables.


He rose to his feet and grabbed Storm by the shoulder. Spinning him around, he slammed his knee into the man's stomach. Johnny then scraped his boot against the shin of the master of The Lightning Strike, which send him to one knee. That was all that Jason's foe needed. Rude grabbed his foe by the head and jammed his thumbs into the man's eyes. A painful howl erruptd from the depths of his throat as Johnny shoved his fingers deeper into the man's eye sockets. Storm screamed and clung to Rude's arms. Pain rushed through his head as his world was engulfed in the darkness that suddenly becoming blind brings.


It wasn't just his sight which was affected, either. The hurt made it hard for him to concentrate. The noise of the crowd and the feeling of a man's thumbs jabbing into one's eyes was enough to disorient a person. A sick grin twisted onto the sweat stained and stubble covered face of Johnny B. Rude. The sight of his hated rival in such pain caused him nothing but joy. Storm made attempts to try and hit his attacker so that he could free himself. Everytime Johnny saw a punch coming, he moved a little so that it would miss. All the while he would keep his thumbs firmly in place. It wasn't long before tears mixed with blood run down the face of Jason Storm.


Alan Scott saw this as an opportunity.


John: What is Alan Scott doing?


Hank: I can't believe it, Storm looks like he's about to tap at any moment!


John: Alan Scott is sneaking up behind Rude. Is he going to break the hold?


In a manner of speaking, he was. He wrapped an arm under Rude's chin. This causes him to break the hold on his opponent. With his free hand, Alan Scott holds a permanent marker. With Rude struggling, he writes, "I Eat Cock" on his forehead. Afterwhich, he breaks the hold. Storm lowblows Rude and sends him straight to the ground once more. Writhing in pain, with something scribbled onto him, and the win snatched from his grasp, Johnny was not a happy man. However, sadly, there was little he could do about it. If he gave in now, he'd be giving Scott heat. He would be damned if he did that.


Jason pulled Rude up and was about to chop the ever living shit out of him when he read Scott's message.


Jason: Hahahahaha! I knew it!


Rude: Knew what? What the fuck are you talking about...?


Meanwhile....

Elsewhere, The Shepard of Man watches the battle between Johnny Rude and Jason Storm.

Nighthawk: Is it possible? Has Storm lost his way....?


TBC By ???

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Alan Scott had not made the decision to end the match right before his without giving it some serious thought. One of two things was going to happen. He was either going to find a way to push Rude beyond his own breaking point and incur the man’s wrath, something he was betting against, or Rude was going to suffer an enormous amount of abuse in return for his plan to get most of the workers in the company to give Alan ‘The Big Chill.’ As the more likely of the two scenarios, it also meant that Alan wasn’t in a lot of danger of being in worse shape to start his own Main Event match.

Alan smiled as he put the cap on the marker he had just used to write on Rude’s head and he wondered if somewhere The Sack Man was thankful that Alan had never been provoked into writing on his brown paper sack. A man could get a lot of writing in on a sack…..errr…..bag……er……crap! Storm wiped a tear from his face as he laughed at Rude, and then he kicked the man savagely in the face and sent him toppling ass over teakettle backwards. Storm cast a quick look up at Alan.

Alan: Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m not done with him yet.

Storm nodded. He had been the beneficiary of Alan’s last choice to get involved and share a moment with Rude, and he did not doubt that he would benefit again the next time. What he really wanted though was to break the man down, and take him apart in a way that had never been done to him before. True, Rude was as resilient as any man the sport had ever seen, and he had endured enormous abuse at the hands of some of the industry’s most vicious and bloodthirsty bastards to prove it. Storm could find another level beyond that though.

He had a gear that had made him a wrestling icon. His name still inspired recognition from peers who had not seen him in action in years. Alan ignore the action as it was going on for a very simply reason…..he had things he wanted to accomplish while he was at ringside, and determining a winner wasn’t one of them. He had no doubt that the Powerbase would send out a different person to see to the end of the match. When the time actually came to count a pinfall, or acknowledge a submission, Alan would not be the one who did it. For obvious reasons. If Rude was winning, Alan would not give him the satisfaction of winning. If he was losing….why stop somebody from piling a little more hurt on him?

No Alan had his mind on the next step in his plan. He pulled a large mirror out from under the ring and set it up in the corner. What good was his wonderful work if Rude didn’t realize what kind of heat Alan was getting by Rude NOT giving him heat? No good at all. Alan brought his fingers to his lips and whistled to get Storm’s attention. The mean spirited man….at least he seemed that way at the moment…..looked up and saw Alan pointing at the mirror. He nodded once, and then threw four more left hands into the side of Rude’s head, each one bringing a slight spray of blood up onto Storm’s cheek, and a little bigger smile onto his face.

Maybe the man was losing it.

As Storm pulled Rude to his knees Alan suddenly saw an opportunity.

Alan: FREEZE!

His voice caught Storm off guard and he froze and looked over his shoulder at Alan, who was holding a polaroid camera.

Alan: Smile!

Storm smiled, and Alan clicked the picture. When it started to come into focus he handed it to one of the cameramen at ringside, who upon seeing it decided that it was just too damn funny to ignore. He had a runner take it into the back. Obviously at a really uncomfortable moment in the match the image of Johnny on his knees in front of Storm, with 'I EAT COCK' written on his face, and his mouth hanging open was going to find its way onto the X-Tron.

If that didn't get Alan some heat, nothing would.

Alan: You may continue.

Storm turned back and pulled his fist for a good shot between the eyes, but Rude had managed to get off a shot first. Right between the legs.

Ouch.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The short right to the crotch made Storm stagger back and fall on his ass. Rude was on his knees.....his body waving back and forth as he tried not to fall. Alan stood in the corner just taking it all in and not doing much in the way of officating....and the fans? It might remind one of the heady days when the romans went into a freezy watching helpless people get ripped to shreads by the lions. Yes, The fans wanted blood, and they were getting plenty of it.

Rude looked over at Storm with a half smile. He very much wanted to take advantage of his downed opponet but his body wouldn't agree. Instead, He used this moment of pause to try and regain himself. Storm on the other hand didn't stay down long. Walking just a bit slower, He closed in on Rude and went to grab him but another short right, this time to the damaged eye, Sent Storm flaying across the ring and into the ropes. His eye was intacted.....meaning it was still in his head.....but the damage was done.....and the pain flowed through his eye like an electrical current.

Leaning on the ropes with a mixture of blood and tears running from his busted eye, Storm tried to focus and harness his pain. Rude had other plans. He stagggered up behind Storm, Wrapped his arm around Storm's neck, and dropped hyim down hard with a reverse DDT.

Paragon: Back and forth they go. Storm is down and Rude is over in the corner looking through that trash can of his for another weapon. This time he finds.....a Cheese Grater!

Proctor: Oh yeah!

Storm tried to sit up but Rude limped over and gave him a swift kick. he then straddled Storm's chest and began to slide the cheese grater up and down over the damaged eye of Storm. Thankfully the grater couldn't reach his actual eye.....but it was no less painful to be sure, and it was causing even more blood to seep into the eye of The Real Deal.

Rude pulled back to admire his handywork......which turned out to be a mistake for him.....and a bit of luck for Storm. Blinded and unable to get his bearings, Storm punched out wildly and managed to hit the grater driving it directly into the bridge of Rude's nose leaving a large gash. As Rude fell on his back holding his nose, Storm rolled towards the ropes but with no idea how close or far he was, he wound up rolling right off the apron and down to the floor.

Time passed.....niether man moved.....and Alan made no effort to start a double countout.

Proctor: Alan could have counted to 500 by now. He could have ended this bloodbath. Rude has taken enough. Hell, he should just declare Rude the winner and be done with it.

Paragon: Perhaps he realizes that these two have a blood war and that a victor must be found for this battle.......or he just wants to watch Rude suffer more.

Almost 2 minutes pass when a taped and bloody hand shot up over the apron grabbing hold of the ring skirt. Inside the ring, Rude suddenly sat back up as blood flowed not only from his forehead but the bridge of his nose....which now to, like Storm's was broken. The Crowd roared ready for another round of brutality.

Now Storm's other hand shot up over the ring apron but it wasn't empty. In it was "American Express". The crowd let out another roar.

Storm left the sledgehammer on the ring apron, His hand disappeared once more and when it came back, It was holding an old style wooden folding chair.

On the other side of the ring, Rude crawled over to the trash can and began looking for his own weapons. Storm stood up still squinting through his right eye but smiling. He grabbed the bottom rope and pull himself up. Over by the trash can, Rude pulled out a length of heavy steel chain. He began to push himself up.

Now both warriors stood across from each other. Storm holding "American Express" at the ready, Rude swinging his chain.

Paragon: I got a bad feeling about this.

Both men circled one another until Storm made the first move. He tried to take a swing at Rude but Rude used the chain and swung it so that the end of it wrapped around the sledgehammer. With one good tug, He pulled the sledge free from Storm's grasp. The force of the tug turned Rude around. The sledge landed in the corner by the ring post. Rude was going to grab it for his own devices but turned around when he felt Storm walking towards him. As he did, He caught the wooden chair flush to the face. Splinters of wood went everywhere as Rude fell to his knees holding his hands to his face.

Then, with perhaps the sickest grin Storm's face could ever muster, He grabbed about a foot long peice of the broken wooden chair, one with a very sharp point on it, Stood behind Rude, and jammed the shapr end into the gash across the bridge of Rude's nose.

Rude could not help but scream......bloody murder.

Paragon: It's shades of the classic cage match between Magnum T.A. And Tully Blanchard as Storm jams that wooden spike into the wound over Rude's nose!

Proctor: Yeah....Born again my ass. What a christain thing to do!!

Alan grinned as Storm pulled the wooden spike free and then jammed it into the large cut above Rude's left eye. Again Rude Screamed at the top of his lungs.

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30 minutes into the pay per view

Although one to hardly ever get involved with anything having to do with a ring or any wrestling event period, She agreed to do this......Out of loyalty and love.

She had found the keys where Storm said they would be, right next to a fat roll of twenty dollar bills.

Her mission had been simple.

Pulled off without a hitch.

The bribe had been accepted.

The key worked to perfection.

She had walked away without so much as a second look....even with the package she was escorting.

Inside the Arena....the match between Rude and Storm was still in progress. She pulled up the a lesser used back door to the arena and handed her package the keys.

???: That door leads directly to the ring, I've made sure the whole way is clear. He's waiting for you.

???: Time to pay the piper.

???: Take this key. It'll open the door, the small one will open the lock on the cell.

???: Thank you for this.

???: Just make him pay.....for everything he's done.

The "Package" Exited the car and used the key on the door. He closed it as she pulled away hoping she'd done the right thing.

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Stan Daniels

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Bad Blood Hell In The Cell: Johnny Rude Vs Jason Storm Part 2

Post  Stan Daniels on Fri Jan 21, 2011 10:16 am

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Rude had managed to wrap his hand around the shaft of the sledgehammer. As Storm put more and more pressure on the piece of wood jutting out of Rude's forehead, The Anitchrist Superstar brought the sledge up over his head and hit Storm right in the center of his chest. Storm released the splinter of wood and fell back into the ropes. He then dropped down on all 4's gasping for breath.

Rude fell over and took the piece of wood out of his forehead, Then with one quick motion, He jammed it through the left Hand of Storm effectively pinning Storm's right hand to the canvas. He then fell on his back and rolled away a few feet...laughing.

He had his break, Storm was to weak from the blow and lack of air to pull himself free.....and Rude was getting a much needed breather.

The laugher was short lived though because as Rude laid on his back trying to regain himself....looking at the lights. The tron came to life and an all too familair sound began to play over the PA.





The Crowd Exploded

Paragon: MAVERICK!! MAVERICK IS HERE!! MAVERICK IS HERE!!

Proctor: NO NO NO NO!! NOOOOOO!

Although still convinced in his own mind that he did indeed kill Ed, Word had spread of the evidence against that theory. That coupled with all the abuse taken at the hands of Rude had the crowd in a "Pro Maverick" Frenzy. As the former commissioner sprinted towards the ring, The people came to thier feet. Chants of "MAVERICK! MAVERICK! Blowing the roof off the arena.

Alan Scott Stood watching and then moved out of the ring towards the cell door as Maverick began to unlock it. Some peopled booed thinking Scott would not allow him to enter......But the boos died fast when Scott opened the door for Maverick with a smile.

As Maverick slid into the ring, Rude sat up and looked as if might actually start crying. Across from them, Storm pulled the length of wood out of his hand, tossed it aside, looked at his brother, then to Rude.

Storm: Suprise fucker.

Rude: Fuck you! FUCK YOU BOTH!

Storm turned his attention to Brett. He looked at his hand and the hole in it, Then to Rude, Then to his brother Brett.

Storm: Eye for an eye brother.

Maverick: Eye for an eye.

Storm stood up as Maverick grabbed the sledgehammer. Before Rude could react, Storm jumped him from behind knocking him down. With all he could muster, He held Rude's right wrist and shoved his right hand away from his body. Maverick stood over him and when his hand was in place, Brett drove the sledgehammer down flush on Rude's exposed right hand.

The crunch of bone was sickening.

Paragon: OH MY GOD! Maverick just CRUSHED Rude's right hand. It has to be shattered!!

Proctor: BULLSHIT!! THIS IS ALL BULLSHIT!!

Storm got up and rolled away proping himself up in the corner.

Storm: He's all yours brother. Enjoy.

Rude rolled around on the mat screaming as Maverick stalked him....and Storm took a much needed rest in the corner...watching....waiting....and at the ready should he be needed.

tbc.....

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The worst possible of all situations. The worst of all possible worlds. The bottom of the proverbial barrel. Johnny Rude had found himself in the reality of one of his worst nightmares. Trapped inside of a steel cage. Surrounded by weapons. Cornered by Storm and Maverick with no one to help him. Johnny had done everything he could possible think of to hurt both of these men. He had tried to kidnap Maverick's child. He had sex with his girlfriend/wife, twice, and warped her mind so severely that she now seeks mental help. He had captured Storm's wife and tortured her on live TV, twice.


His hand had been broken. His face was drenched in blood. The Rudeness slid out of the ring. He limped toward the door of the cage and The One and Only followed after him. Johnny grabbed a hold of the cage and tried to open the door. Unfortunately, it had been locked behind Maverick. When The Antichrist Superstar turned around, he was greeted in the face by American Express. He fell fast and hard, hitting the floor beneath him. Maverick dropped the hammer and grabbed Johnny by the head. Brett Emerson lifted the man up and slammed his face against the cage wall. He did this again and again until a large red stain formed on the metal.


The body of the Antichrist Superstar then fell from his grip. His battered and beaten form had crumpled to the ground. His face was a picture of gore. Johnny looked up at Maverick with the fear of a god in his eyes. As The One and Only picked the sledgehammer up again and was ready to use it, Johnny Rude shouted at him.


Johnny: WAAAAIT! Maverick...wait...don't do this.


Mav: WHY!?!? Why the fuck not?


Johnny: Because...you're a better person than me...if you keep doing this...you'll kill me...and in doing so, become no better. Is that what you want?


Mav: Heh, you'd say ANYTHING to save your sorry hide! Well, fuck that. You've made your bed with the blood and suffering of everyone you hurt, now lie in it!


The hammer came down. Johnny threw his arms up to defend himself. It did little good, as all his meak defense managed to do was throw off the aim of the shot, causing it to hit Maverick's foe in the shoulder. Rude screamed as he felt it "pop." He fell backwards and rolled around on the ground in agony. His hand had been broken, his shoulder had now been shattered, and he had been stabbed in the calf. Rude rolled on his stomach and reached out with his arm. He began to pull himself away from his old arch nemesis. Maverick followed with all the slow grace and ominous body language of a slasher flick serial killer.


John: I've never seen anything like this. This goes beyond wrestling, beyond anything we've ever seen.


Hank: You're telling me. I think we may see Johnny Rude die tonight.


John: There is nowhere for him to run, and no one who will bail him out.


Hank: Alan Sco-erm, Man, I wish we had a ref here!


Alan Scott watched with an amazed look on his face. He hadn't seen people go this far in his career. He considered intervening, he felt as though he needed to. But he had his own match to think of, and the last thing he needed was to get himself hurt before an important match. So, with much regret, Alan Scott simply watched the carnage as it took place. Meanwhile, outside the ring, Maverick had abandoned American Express. He reached down and grabbed a hold of Johnny Rude. He lifted the man to his feet and slammed his head into Rude's face.


Maverick: You fucked Kitty!


Rude: *gurgles* I'm-


The former Wrassle CEO slammed an elbow into his throat. A torrent of blood gushed from his mouth and splattered onto the face of Maverick.


Maverick: You tried to take my son!


Rude: *gurgles* I'm-


The former NGPW commissioner threw Rude's body so that it collided with the steel ring steps. Half of them fell over. Johnny's body lied accross what remained of the stairs. Maverick grabbed the part of the stairs which fell and placed them on top of Rude's body. He then climb up onto the apron and threatens to jump onto the stairs, where Rude is sandwhiched. Before he could, however, he heard something he thought he never would.


Rude: I'm....sorry.


Frozen in disbelief, he retained this reaction when the lights went out. The sweet smell of incense filled the air. Storm knew what this meant. Maverick did as well, but he wasn't pleased by it. When the lights came back on, NightHawk, The Shepard of Man, stood between Maverick and the broken body of Johnny Rude.


Mav: Get the fuck out of the way!


NightHawk: No. This is not justice.


Storm: I understand. But I needed to do what was necessary to make Rude pay.


NightHawk: You've crossed the line, the both of you. This man could be redeemed, could be saved.


Mav: Give me a fuckin' break!


TBC By ??

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Maverick stared at Nighthawk with total disbelief in his eyes.

"Are you fucking kidding" He thought. This vile piece of shit who didn't deserve to be called a human being could be saved? Was this some sort of insane joke? A new found sense of humor the Shepherd was trying out?

Maverick: Get the fuck out of the way Hawk.

Nighthawk: No. This is revenge, I will not allow it to continue.

Maverick: Fucking move or I swear I'll take you out to.

Nighthawk: Every human being has a soul that can be saved. His can be saved. Don't you see that?

Jason wanted to say something, do something....but The Shepherd was right, Jason had crossed the line. regardless of how much he wanted to see Rude in pain, to see him suffer, It now went against everything he believed in with his new found faith....so rather then try to help, he stood by helpless letting Nighthawk deal with his brother.....who wasn't about to "Go quietly into that dark night".

Maverick: Save?? You want to save him?!?! HIM!! WHAT ABOUT ME SHEPHERD?? WHAT ABOUT KITTY!! WHAT ABOUT MY SON?!?!? WHERE THE FUCK WHERE YOU WHEN THAT VILE PIECE OF SHIT RAPED MY KITTY!?!?! WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU WHEN HE WAS ABUSING HER LIKE AN ANIMAL HUH? WHY DIDN'T YOU SAVE HER FROM RUDE?!?! WHY DIDN'T YOU SAVE MY SON WHEN THIS FUCKING PIECE OF GARABGE TRIED TO TAKE HIM? NOW YOU WANT TO SAVE HIM?!?!? YOU GOT THE GALL TO WANT ME TO SPARE HIM BECAUSE HE'S GOT A SOUL? WELL FUCK THAT AND FUCK YOU TOO! HE HAS NO SOUL. HE'S A FUCKING ANIMAL AND HE NEEDS TO BE PUT DOWN!!

Nighthawk: This....THIS....is not the way Brett.

Maverick: WHY? YOU THINK HE'S REALLY SORRY? HE'D GO AFTER KITTY IN A SECOND IF SHE WAS HERE! YEAH...YOU WANT TO SAVE SOMEONE? SAVE MY KITTY'S MIND FUCKER! SAVE HER FROM THE MENTAL CLINIC SHE HAS TO BE IN BECAUSE OF THIS INSANE FUCK YOU'RE PROTECTING!! HOW ABOUT YOU SAVE MY BODY AND REMOVE THE SCARS THIS SICK FUCK LEFT ON ME!

Nighthawk: Brett....

Maverick: FUCK YOU!

And with that, Maverick leapt with the intention of breaking Rude in half with the metal stairs he was wedged between. As he flew, Nighthawk had little choice. He caught Maverick in midair and launched him head first into the side of the cell.

Standing away from it all was Jason....who up until this moment was dealing with the conflicting feelings he was having. Now watching as Hawk tossed his brother into the cell, The Real Deal's fists clenched up.

Yes he had his faith, his belief in God and the ways of the Shepherd.....but Brett was his brother.

His blood.

Outside the ring, Maverick wasn't going to allow the toss into the cell to deter him from his only thought. Ride the world of Rude once and for all. With blood now running down his face, Maverick staggered to his feet and charged towards Rude again. Once again Nighthawk was forced to step in the way. This time he merely tossed Brett to the floor unharmed.

Proctor: Keep your eyes on Storm.....he's not looking to pleased about his brother getting manhandled by his savior the Shepherd.

Paragon: I don't think he would.....welll I mean I'd think he'd understand......*sigh*....you might actually be right.

Storm still stood unmoving....but his fists were still clenched. Alan noticed it and placed a hand on Storm's shoulder only to get shrugged off.

Outside the ring on the floor. Maverick again attempted to go after Rude but this time Nighthawk grabbed him and pull the broken man in. He turned him around and pulled him in close holding him around the neck from behind but applying no pressure. it was as if he was trying to help Brett find peace....and calm....by holding him close.

Maverick beat at the arms holding him but slowly they stopped....and he began to weep openly.

Maverick: Where were you when I needed you huh? When she needed you? Why does he get to be saved...why can't he feel the same pain and suffering he's made my family endure....what he made Kitty endure...why? why can't I have justice?

Nighthawk: *whispering*

Maverick: I can't....I can never forgive him for what he did...all the pain...agony....I just can't. You want to save someone Hawk.....*sob*...save Kitty.....save her.....save her....save me....save us.

Jason's hands finally relaxed. He simply watched and waited.

As for Rude?

Rude had a first hand look at how much damage he had really done....both to the mind and body of Maverick.....to Kitty....to the whole Emerson family. For once he was forced to see the real damage he'd done to his victims....but the question still remained....was he sorry? Or was he just trying to save his own ass.....again.

Tbc..........

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alan stood and stared, his mouth hanging agape at the sight that was playing out in front of him. Sure, he had seen the man before and he obviously recognized NightHawk the second that he had arrived, but to see him standing there so defiantly defending a man who’s moral integrity was obviously almost non-existent was exactly the kind of thing that made Alan such an enormous mark for the iconic figure. Rude was cowering, battered, broken and truly bloody after the vicious assaults by Storm and Mav, and yet hadn’t he earned each and every one of the blows that had been rained down on him?

NightHawk: Alan…..

Hawk waited as Alan stood, almost looming over top of Mav and Hawk, staring at them and listening intently, almost lost in a trance. The young star was completely out of his element now that the match had turned into an appearance by both Mav and Hawk, and the game he had come out to play and get over with was wasted. Hawk though was looking at him with patience in his eyes, the only part of him one might be able to read from within the cowl.

NightHawk: ALAN.

The second time that Hawk said his name Alan suddenly realized that he was being spoken to by the Enigma, and he did a double take and snapped back to reality. He lifted himself back up to his proper height and nodded his head like a school kid meeting a childhood idol. Which, given the context of the moment, perhaps he was.

Alan: Sir.

NightHawk rose, though he never took the hand he had laid so gently on Mav’s shoulder off of it. He looked Alan in the eyes as an equal, an act which might have seemed small and subtle to some but spoke volumes to Alan. He was almost ready to do anything that the man might ask of him at that moment.

NightHawk: Can you please go and request the EMT’s come out to assist Johnathon.

It wasn’t a question. It was a request that was meant to be followed, regardless of his opinion on the matter. It was that moment that Alan realized just how much the man had taken control of the situation without so much as one aggressive attack on any person. He had seen Jason Storm balling up his fists to strike out at the man as he stood the ground between Rude and the insanely rabid Brett Emmerson, and he had been momentarily concerned for what Storm might do. Now? Now he wondered if there had been anything that Storm could have done. The man seemed somehow…..larger than life.

Alan nodded and rose to his feet.

Alan: I can do that. Sir.

NightHawk nodded his head appreciatively for the confirmation and then he slowly lowered himself back down into a squat. He clearly had something to say to Brett, and it wasn’t for anyone else’s ears. Not even Johnny’s. Alan looked at Johnny and fought the urge to vomit. What had seemed amusing and humorous to him early now seemed gratuitous in the light of what followed. Alan didn’t look at Storm as he walked past him on his way to get medical help.

He didn't know if he could look at Storm the same ever again.

That man needed boundaries

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Darkness. It had been the at the core of everything he had done. It was more than just the absence of light to Johnny. It was the motivator. It was the driving force which pushed him to do all that he had done. It was what made him who he was, and it was the reason behind the trail of blood and bodies left in his wake. Now, it blanketed over him in a merciful wave. There was no pain no. No noise from the blood hungry fans who drank in the carnage like men recently saved from being marooned at sea after enduring the merciless sun.


Nothingness. It was beautiful, it is own way. Johnny could have remained this way forever. Unfortunately for him, though, the fates were not so kind. The images of Maverick sobbing uncontrollably played before him once again. And, as a true sign of his degredation as a human being, Johnny Rude enjoyed every minute of it. In this dream world, he could slow down time. He could focus on the facial expressions, the stressing of certain words and the de-emphasizing of others. In this state, Johnny Rude could savor every last detail. It was all that could comfort him after the massive beating he had recieved.


As his vision faded to nothing, he felt a certain calmness. Why? Because as always, Johnny Rude had a back up plan. One that he set in motion the day before the match. It wasn't to be set forth in motion unless the situation was particularly dire. Unless Johnny had absolutely no hope of emerging the victor. Which seemed to be the case now, it seemed. John and Hank couldn't believe the sight before them. The cage wall dripped with the blood of the wrestlers. The ring was stained with it. It, and shards of glass, bloodied weapons, and so much more.


Rude was now on a stretcher. Alan Scott watched as the EMTs tended to him. Maverick was in the throes of his own personal mental destruction. And Storm...all Storm could do was watch....


John: I can't believe what we've just witnessed...


Hank: Neither can I. Maverick nearly committed homicide here tonight.


John: I never would have thought he was capable of such.


Hank: You never know what a man will do until he is pushed.


Storm slid out of the ring and went to his brother. With the help of NightHawk, he lifted Brett Emerson to his feet. The two men began to move toward the exit of the cage. Storm watched as NightHawk took Brett from him and lifted him into his arms much like one would hold a child. He moved out of the cage and walked through the crowd with the former commissioner in his arms. Storm went to follow him when his exit was blocked by Alan.


Alan: You nearly let Rude die.


Storm: So? What do you care?


Alan: What do I care? Are you fucking brain dead? We don't kill people in this business.


Storm: This wasn't business Alan, it was personal.


Alan: You've fucking lost it. That's what this is all about. And I, for one, can't let you run around free, having seen what you're capable of.


He closes the cage door behind him and gives Storm a shove. The Real Deal stumbles backwards. Alan went to drive him to the ground with a right cross, but Storm grabbed his arm and whipped him into the apron. Scott hit it with some force, but not enough to cause him a huge amount of pain. He turned and ducked a superkick from Storm. He then grabs Storm while he is off-balance from the move and spinebusters him to the mat. The two begin duking it out at ringside.


John: And it looks like we have another match on our hands.


Hank: A bonus match! Yes!


John: And it looks like the EMTs have safely gotten Rude to an ambulance.


Storm managed to get Alan off of him. He stood up and waited for the next strike. Alan came charging and Jason was ready for it. He grabbed the man and shoved him into the cage wall. Alan collided with it forcefully and hit the ground again. He wouldn't stay down for long, and Jason knew this. He was about to prepare for another strike when something caught his eye. It was a small thing, and it glowed a little. Reaching down, he saw that there was a black cell phone on the ground. He picked it up and opened it.

Alan was up and ready to strike. Before he did, however, he too, noticed the phone. Finding it strange that such an item would just be lying around, he stopped.


Alan: Making calls? What the fuck, Storm?


Jason: This isn't mine....


The phone gives a message that it just has recieved a new text message. Storm opens it and sees that it is from Sonny Crockett's phone.


Message: Need help...please call me...ASAP


Storm dials his number, wondering just what this was about.


In Hawaii....


Sonny and Sara sit on the couch of their home, tied up and gagged. They stare at a bomb accross from them. A bomb which is rigged to a cell phone. The phone rings, and when it does...



The tron comes to life with the image of the home of Sonny Crockett and his wife, Sara Hawke, sister to Kitty Hawke. Storm stares at this with wide eyes as the phone against his ear rings. And then, the ringing stops.


Right at the same time the house explodes.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alan: Oh dear god….

Alan stared at the X-Tron where the image of the exploding house was etched in his mind. Storm was already in full stride running to the door of the cage, horror etched on his face. Alan didn’t even notice as Storm ripped the cage door open and charged out of it, his eyes captivated by the image being replayed over and over again as the announcers screamed in horror at the realization of what they had just witnessed. Alan could not believe his eyes, and he had long since been overwhelmed by the violence that had erupted around him.

Alan Scott was the Heat Machine. He was also one of the most focused and dedicated wrestlers anywhere in the world. Despite all of that he was starting to feel like he might be in over his head in the match he chose to referee. Maverick coming in despite the pending legal action against him? Storm and his brother doing everything in their power to kill Johnny Rude inside the ring? A cell phone laying around that lead to the broadcast of somebody’s house exploding?

Alan’s mind was racing. Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder. Alan could barely register what he was looking at.

Alan: John?

Alan fell silent as he recognized John Paragon standing beside him.

John: I think you might be in shock Alan. The match is over. GO back and get ready for your match-up.

Alan blinked a couple of times and then nodded his head.

Alan: Yeah. Right.

Alan walked slowly towards the back, and he tried to get his head around what he had seen. It was….

…..fucking insane

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alan was in shock

Rude was in the back on an EMT's stretcher.

Nighthawk had carried the mentally broken mind and body of Maverick through the crowd and disappeared.

Storm was running up the ramp

And the crowd sat in shock at what they had just witnessed on the tron.

The match was over.

Or was it.

Paragon: Never in my life have I been witness to such brutality, such barbaric measures, and the vile thing Rude just did takes the cake.

Proctor: You know I make my living being an ass.....but even that was to much for me to swallow. I'm in a total state of shock as are most of these fans.

Paragon: I for one think the Powerbase needs to have an investigation into this whole affa.....wait a second....say that again.

Paragon presses the side of his headset hard to his ear to make sure he heard things correctly. He then looks at his partner, then to the camera.

Paragon: Folks.....I've just been informed that Storm is in the back chasing down the Stretcher Rude is on. Our cameras are just now catching up to them in the back.

Static and then a picture shows up on the tron. The EMT's are wheeling Rude down the hallway when Storm catches up to them. He shoves both EMT's away, Grabs Rude by the throat as if he's going to snap his neck.....and then does the unexpected.

He begins to laugh.

One slap, then another, then one more brings Rude around again. Storm continues to laugh in his face making Rude think that Storm has totally snapped.

Then the laughter dies as Storm yanks Rude's face right up to his.

Storm: Really Rude....do you think me THAT stupid?

Rude: Fuck you!

Storm: No Rude...this time you're the one fucked. Jessica?

From around the corner steps Jessica Twinpeaks...cell phone in hand. She hands it to Storm who pushes the speaker button and then holds the phone mere inches from Rude's face.

Storm: I know your M.O. Johnny....and I took steps. Don't believe me? Then Listen. Sonny...are you there?

Sonny: Yeah Jason.

Storm: Are you, Sarah, and Tristan ok?

Sonny: Yeah....yeah we're fine....can't say the same for my house though.

Storm: See Rude....alive and well. How? I placed a call a good couple hours before the match and made sure you couldn't pull one of your famous suprises.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Flashback to about 4 hours ago.

4 hours before the pay per view

Jason: So you understand the plan then? Both of you?

???: ..................

???: ..................

Jason: Good. Then take care of that first. Once that's done call me.

???: ...................

Jason: Talk to you soon.

*Click*

Jason: Now you understand your second part in this?

???:..............

Jason: Good. Timing is everything. You'll find the keys where I said you';d find them. Make sure you keep on schedule.

???: ....................

Jason: Until then.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Storm smirks at Rude and then continues.

Storm: If you paid attention you might have known I took care of them. Sonny, Kitty's safe?

Sonny: Yeah Storm....She's fine.

Storm: Thanks Sonny. I'll call you a bit later.

Storm flips the phone closed with eveil in his eyes.

Storm: Now the real question is....who did you blow up tonight Johnny? I know you....I know the doubles we placed were on a set somewhere and you thought you'd be blowing up an empty house.....but did you blow up an empty house....or was someone inside you actually might have cared about.

Rude: What?

Storm: Oh you'll have plenty of time to sort out if you believe me or if I'm pulling your chain....but for now....you and I have unfinished business......because we still don't have a winner now do we?

And with that, Storm started pushing the stretcher back towards the entrance. The Emt's tried to stop him but he just shoved them away.

Rude: Fuck you Storm!! Fuck you!!

Storm: I think Not Johnny....Oh...and there's no Nighthawk here to save you now either.

And so Storm headed back to the ring with Rude strapped to the stretcher.

Why?

Because Storm was having a little crisis of his own. Reverting back to his old ways had been easy....too easy...and for the moment...with everything that he bared witness too tonight.....he couldn't find the inner strength to fight his own basic animal impulses.

When all was said and done...when the smoke cleared, Jason was going to be in a world of hurt.......But for now, Jason was long gone....and Storm meant to finish what he started.

Tbc......

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Paragon: You have to be kidding me. I mean enough is enough. Isn't anyone going to stop this?

paragon threw his hands up in the air as Storm wheeled Rude back to the ring still strapped to the stretcher. Halfway down the ramp he let the stretcher go and it rolled on it's own picking up speed till it slammed into the side of the cell. It toppled over and spliied to the floor with Rude still strapped to it.

Proctor: As much as it pains me to agree, You're right. This has gone way beyond any sport or form of entertainment. I for one would like to know why the Powerbase isn't out here stopping this.

Paragon: Well I'm done. I got nothing left to say till this travesty is over.

In an act of defiance, Paragon pulled his headset off, dropped it on the table, and sat back with his arms folded. At ringside, Storm took the straps off Rude and drug him across the floor by his hair...leaving a large bloody swath on the floor behind him. As he entered the cell door he yanked Rude through with him.

Before them.....the ring....the majority of the white canvas now stained red with thier blood. Broken chairs, Shards of mirror, barbed wire, and Storm's trusty sledehammer lay riddled around the ring. With one good pull and push, Storm rolled Rude back into the ring.

Climbing in behind him, It took alot out of Storm to get Rude to his feet. Using the corner to hold him up, Storm placed both his arms over the corner ropes to keep him on his feet......then he backed up himself......with only one thought in mind......To end Rude.

Standing there staring at him, One might have hoped Jason might realize this was long over....that what he was about to do was not only stepping over the line but leaping over it. There was no need for it.....But Jason was long gone.....and the only thing left was the old Storm.

The only thoughts running through his mind......was Rude hurting everyone he loved....was Rude torturing Kitty.....Faith.....and Brett.

The images began to overwhelm him and with a blood curdling roar.....Storm unleashed perhaps the most devasting Lightning Strike ever.

The sound of shoe leather striking flesh was much like that of sawed off shotgun getting discharged in a very small space. Rude's head snapped back so hard it bounced off the turnbuckle and he slumped to the floor on his face.

There were no Cheers.

There was no fanfare

There where no shouts of "Kick His Ass Storm"

There was in fact....silence.

Storm stood over his fallen prey waving towards the ramp. It didn't take long for another offical to come down the ramp.

As soon as the ref made his way into the ring, Storm kicked Rude in the ribs rolling him over....and then out of pure hatred.....he placed his foot on Rude's face and shoved down hard.

Storm: COUNT!

It was academic at best but the ref wasn't about to defy the man standing above him....not in the mind set he was in....so he did what he had to do and counted.

Three slaps of the palm on the canvas later.....and the carage was finally over.

Proctor: There's your winner.....Jason Storm......and his victory is accompanied by complete and utter silence. I hope he's happy now.

But Storm was not happy. He dropped to his knees and yanked Rude's head up....then spoke to him in his ear.

Storm: If I had my way....you'd be dead right now.....but I can do the next best thing....and just end your pathetic career. I told you I'd make you pay for what you've done to my family.....and now If what I've done to you wasn't enough to keep you away....then I promise you.....this will be.

Storm stood up and walked over to the bloody sledge he called "American Express". He plucked it off the canvas and held it close to his face looking at it like he almost loved it. Then he walked back over to Rude who was starting to come around ever so slightly. With the end of the hammer now aimed at Rude's face, Storm pulled up on the hammer.....the bloody barb wire on the head greedy for the taste of more of Rude's blood.

Storm: Now.....I'm taking your other eye.......and your career.

Rude was helpless to stop him......and could feel his life in this sport fading fast....perhaps that was what made him look up at Storm the way he did....perhaps for once....he really might be sorry for all that he had done.

On any other day....in a past not to distance.....Storm wouldn't have given a shit and bashed the hammer down ripping into Rude's one good eye.

But that was not who he was present day......and that look was just enough to ground Storm....so that Jason could think about what he was aboout to do.

Still holding it ready to strike......he fought within himself.

Pull the trigger and be done with him forever.

or show compassion to a man who didn't even know what the meaning of the word was.

Repercussions?

Do it and forever go back to the way he was.

or Stop.....and take the chance that Rude would be back to torment his family again one day.

Paragon put his headset back on.

Paragon: If Storm does this....if he takes Rude's good eye.....I for one hope he gets fired and brought up on charges. I don't care how vile Rude can be.....nobody deserves this

Proctor: I still can't believe no one is out here trying to stop him.

Paragon: DON'T DO IT STORM!!

Paragon's voice carried and the crowd who'd been dead silent.....picked up what he said and the chant began.

DON'T DO IT STORM!!

DON'T DO IT STORM!!

DON'T DO IT STORM!!

Inside the ring....the man had made his choice......Rude screamed as Storm brought the hammer down hard.....

Where it impacted into the mat right next to Rude's face.

The crowd was silent once again as Storm tossed the sledgehammer to the side of the ring where it slid off the arpon to the floor. He looked down at Rude....and for the first time tonight really took in all the damage he had done.

Then he backed away from him slowly....shaking his head.....and wishing now that he had never let the "Old Him" Out.

Jason: What Have I done......I'm no better then him.....my God....what have I done.....

As Darkness took Rude....the last thing he saw was Storm.....backing away...shaking his head.....remorse mixed with hate on his face.

And then everything went dark....not just for Rude....But the entire arena.

tbc.......

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The lights flicker, as Jason and Rude were inthe ring. The Antichrist Superstar was out of this match, and there was no way that he was coming back. His protégé had failed to make an impact, besides the one on the top of the cage, and it was about time that someone a little more competent to take a stab at things. And that’s what about to happen.

The flickering found itself in complete and total darkness and the crowd started to buzz not knowing what was going on. The fact of the matter was, Storm had found himself outside the realm of his character and was forced to do things that weren’t normal in his mind. Johnny had pushed Storm to do things that were so beyond the norm that he had in fact turned into the person he was trying so hard to defeat. But at the moment he wasn’t going to defeat any one.

”It seemed that the lights have gone out, I can only ask what else could happen in this match to make it more demented and twisted.” John said confused at what was going on.

There were lighters in the air, but they didn’t cast enough of a light to let anyone know what was going on. But soon after the lights had faded from existence they had found a rebirth bringing the world into the fact of knowing. Holland stood there with a sledge hammer, his eyes looking down at Storm as he laid a bloody mess at his feet. It seemed there had been hints about it the whole night, but without the outward knowledge of what was going on it seemed that even the most intelligent person wouldn’t have got it.

The Resistance of Man watched, blood trickling down the metal head of that 20 pound sledge that had seemed to take in Storm’s head, those cold uncaring gray eyes didn’t give in a slight morsel of remorse. He couldn’t help but think that this was avoidable for a mere second, but then he didn’t really give a fuck if it was or not. It was about time that people realized that he was a sadistic mother fucker, and right now would be the best time for it, would it not?

”It’s Holland. What the hell is he doing out here helping Rude?” Hank said looking in fright what was going on up in the ring.

”I really don’t know what’s going on, but security needs to get out here and help both Johnny Rude and Storm out. They aren’t in any condition to continue this match at all.” John replied, and he was confused slightly at what Holland was motioning for towards the staging area. “Who is he motioning for? Oh no…”

John’s eyes widened as he saw who Holland was motioning for. It seemed Johnny had made a backup plan here tonight, it was said that if things were looking to get out of control, that Holland should reveal himself and everything would be taken care of. Rude had seemed to suffer a little more than he would have thought, but he didn’t give the signal. He better just be glad that Holland was just as twisted as Rude was.

But what caught John Paragon by surprise is what he saw at the top of the stage. Rylan Hearn was coming out behind the curtain dragging something out behind him. It was a large wooden cross, and something like that wasn’t brought out without ill intentions. Holland reached down and grabbed Storm’s hair and started to drag his lifeless body up the ramp. He could feel the pressure of the ramp trying to halt his progression but he carried on none the less.

”What in the bloody hell does the Resistance of Man think he’s doing?” John said afraid to really hear the answer.

Holland stopped at the top of the ramp and dropped Storm’s lifeless body on the ground, which left a bloody trail from where he originally pulled him from. Placing the head of the hammer on the ground he released the handle and picked Storm up to place him upside down on the cross. His eyes were rolling back and forth as he tried to focus on what was going on, his mind way trying to piece together what had just happened. But he was in no position to fight back. After a brutal battle like that he wasn’t going to be fighting back much. Holland held him tight, and Rylan found the barbed wire and started to wrap his feet in it, the pain was evident in Storms eyes.

”Storm, I’m sad to say you’ve found yourself in the hands of someone that you didn’t want to. I for one don’t care if you end of like Acid Ed here, just letting you know that no one will be shooting this time.” Holland said in a cold and callous voice. “You are on the cusp of something big here Storm, and we’re going to have to make you the sacrificial lamb here.”

The Undying Breed looked at the Titan of Talk with a smirk and reached in his pocket for two four inch long nails. Handing them over to Rylan he reached for the sledge again, the fans were shouting at the top of their lungs for this not to happen, but it had to, for both effect and moral causes. It wasn’t possible to be done this way, but Rylan place the nail into the middle of his hand, instead of in the wrist where it would support more weight, and looked at Holland. The Resistance of Man shook her head with a sick smirk and with one mighty swing of his sledge plunged the nail into his flesh, making him howl out in pain. He reached to dig at the nail, sure it would have been better if it was a rail road tye, but he wanted the effect more than him dying on him in the middle of this. His boots held in place by the barbed wire at his feet.

Holland landing a kick into his mid-section making Storm toss his hands to the side so Rylan could pin it down, planting the second nail where it needed to be. Holland popped his hips and with a second lung of the hammer he put the second hand nailed to the cross. Bending down he pushed a barbed wire cross into his head, the barbs catching and tearing flesh as it held in place. Blood dripped downward as Holland hoisted the sledge to his shoulder as he smiled as Storm, who seemed to be in shock from all the pain.

”Don’t worry Storm, you’re my own personal Jesus.” he said before spitting into his bloodied face.

His eyes trailed there for a moment as he started down towards the ring, Johnny needed help out of the ring, and it seemed that the Antichrist had found himself a new friend and ally. Goodie. The Resistance of Man help him, that shambled mess of Johnny Rude, leaving Storm to be pecked at by the crows. Standing in the middle of the ring, they lights blackened once more, and then nothingness.

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Stan Daniels

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