Now it is my time to preach II

[Kyle]

Society can overlook murder, adultery or swindling; it never forgives preaching of a new gospel.
~Edmond Burke

We are apt to forget that children watch examples better than they listen to preaching.
~Roy L. Smith

The scene opens in the Portland Chapel on the Church of Dark Saints. Not the main chamber, where Oblivion is often found preaching the word. No , this a "smaller" classroom of the chapel. Ironic, since the room was by no means "small." With rows of pews that would seat over a hundred individuals, the room was the size of a small-church in itself. All the seats were filled with young men, teenagers and young adults who had converted to the Church. A podium at the front of the room, empty at the moment, would soon be mounted by the speaker of the Saturday devotion. And behind the podium, covering the entire wall, was a mural portraying Jesus Christ on the cross. Not the usual picture, as Jesus' neck was slit, and Oblivion stood behind him, a gargantuan demon, with a knife in his hand. And his right hand is red.

"NvL! NvL! NvL!"

Indeed, the man the congregation was chanting for, stepped forth upon the podium. At first glance, Nathan von Liebert looked like a dignified individual. Absent was his trashy attire, replaced by a flowing robe, blood red, with the letter P stitched on his left breast. His hair was still wild, his fingernails still painted black; he was still NvL. But he was a NvL exemplified by his holy position in the church. He pauses briefly to scan the crowd, before beginning his devotion.

"As we meet today, I ask everyone watching to notice something. Notice the chants of my name. It appears to differ little from the chants that Steeltoe Joe was receiving in California earlier this week. But there are differences in our two situations. The obvious one being that Steeltoe Joe was received by a larger crowd, while I have a merely hundred or so welcoming me. But really, there is a much larger difference.

My chant carried weight, while Joe's was light as a feather.

How many of those fans know you, Joe? The real Joe, not the one they see on television every week? Very few, if any of them, know exactly who you are. They chant for you because you've been portrayed as god's soldier, a true, pure soul in the midst of evil and corruption. But they don't know you. These boys before me, some even older than me, know who I am. They have been around me, day and night, since they've arrived at the Church. They've seen me at the best, and at the worst. They've learned who I really am. So, when they chant my name, they do it out of understanding, not because its the norm. These men, these disciples of the Dark Saints, know me as the monster I am. Who knows you, Joe, for who you are?

Well, I do.

I know you for the person you really are, Joe. That is why, if I was in the crowd, I would not have been chanting your name. I could care less that you carry a bible. I'm undeterred that you force-feed the crowds your beliefs. I have one reason that you have no respect from me.

You're preaching such power when you're weak."

From the camera angle, which doesn't make NvL its sole focus, some nodding heads could be seen from the front row congregation, men of more devout faith. Nathan nods his head with him.

"This is my devotion for the day; false teachings. I don't point fingers at the plethora of religions that others deem false. No, I focus on the false teachings of prophets and teachers of men like Joe and I. He and I are men of high standing in our respective churches, men who are looked upon as a daily lesson for the congregation. What we do changes what our followers do. Roy L. Smith said it best when he said that children are more apt to watch examples than listen to preaching.

You're a damn good preach, Joe, but where are your examples?

I mean, you constantly talk about being the 'Holy Flame,' an everlasting inferno. But I proved, not by words, but by actions at Explosion that I can snuff the flame out under my shoe whenever I pleased. And to reiterate my point, I won't preach this; I will provide my example."

Seated on the podium is a remote control, which Nathan presses. From the ceiling, a projection screen descends, Once it is in place, hovering mere feet above NvL's head, video feed appears. Video feed from Explosion, the first ever meeting between the Devil's Right Hand and the Holy Flame.

NvL once again moves in behind Joe for the Straight Jacket Drop. This time Joe not only counters it, but he manages to reverse the position, getting himself behind Nathan. After doing so Joe attempts to spin NvL around so that he can hit one of his moves, but NvL has it scouted perfectly; Nathan headbutts Joe and finally FINALLY hits the Straight Jacket Drop right in the middle of the ring, with nowhere for Joe to escape.

Zach Davis: The third time was the charm for von Liebert! He makes the cover!

Slappy Johnson: ONE...

TWO...

THREE!!!

DING-DING-DING!!!

The projection goes dark, and returns to its original roost. Nathan just stands there, watching the camera.

"There is my example, Joe. Where is yours? Before you answer, though, do notice this. I've done great things in my short career, but I chose the one spot where I beat you. Yeah, I won my first ever title when I did, but I showed that I beat you. So don't pull out your ass your two tag title reigns, you big wins over others. Show me, my congregation, and the entire WCF universe the example of you beating me. . .

Or let me answer for you by telling everyone you have no example. Because you cannot beat me."

With one, red finger, Nathan points at the P resting on his chest.

"This p doesn't represent piece, Joe. That letter means fucking pestilence. The Church is the downfall of the WCF, but it is not a cancer. Newcomer Henri Duco and returning Hunter both referred themselves to cancer. You deem Famine and I cancer. But none of that is right.

I am the plague in the WCF. Never before, none now, and none later will ever compare to me. I am the walking disease upon this company, unique in all categories. No one can repeat what I'm going to do to this company.

So tell me, Joe, if that sounds like the details of a fucking piece of the Church."

If normal churches, the dropping of the F-Bomb would incite a riot throughout the congregation. But in this room, that four-letter word nailed the point better than any other vocabulary. A stray "Amen" was heard in the back, but Nathan ignores it; he's in his zone now.

"My listeners, I urge you to notice a specific instance where Joe is preaching false beliefs. He states that we have never met a man such as him. If you so choose to laugh at this, by all means laugh. Because, inside, I'm laughing my ass off.

Haven't meant someone like you, Joe? Honestly, you haven't changed since the last time we met. You're still the same man who thinks a god will lift him above all obstacles. You'd think, after you ran full steam into my brick wall, that you'd realize that you're fighting a losing battle. But you continue to mouth about being a man unstoppable unless death overtakes him. You're really going to talk about death when I'm around?

Are you trying to tempt me?

Because, as you've seen, I've submitted to my temptations before.

And, after sinning once, what's stopping me from sinning again

Because, as you infer, I'm already destined for hell.

Might as well enter those gates with a new high score."

Nathan chuckles, igniting a domino effect in the crowd. The mere thought of Nathan "racking up a high score" humored these boys. Mainly because they knew NvL could do it.

"Listeners, another sign of false beliefs is hypocritical statements. As you saw in Joe's recent video, after stating I've never seen anything like him, he immediately speaks about the time he and I last met in the ring. But that doesn't matter; he said what I wanted to hear.

He admitted that he didn't beat me.

But then he referred to me as more of a lunatic than an athlete. On a normal day, that wouldn't bother me; I am a lunatic. But the way Joe put it, he was saying a lunatic doesn't compare to an athlete. So does that make you an athlete. Because you didn't look like one when you were favoring your back in our match. You didn't look like one when I dropped you on your head. You didn't look like one. Period. So while I'm a lunatic, you just fucking suck.

How's my rat, Joe? Very cute.

How's your tag team title reign, bitch."

A "damn" is heard from several parts of the congregation.

"But in all seriousness, Joe, you're actually going to send me to Mexico? Because that is where my rat is, not hell. The is the final strike of a preacher of false beliefs; they twist information to fit their own desires. Joe, you can say everything you want. Make promises of hell, threaten to crush me under your boat, fill the WCF universe in false hope. All you can do is preach.At Slam, I'll make another example for the children to see.

Nathan slams his hand on the podium, silencing all noise in the room.

"Should've, could've, and would've don't mean shit, Joe. Adam should've cut the serpent's head? You could've beaten me? That's weak. Those words show doubt in your own abilities. Me? I have no doubt.

I'm going to do to you what the Romans did to Jesus.

I'm going to do to you what Hitler did to the Jews.

I'm going to do to you the same exact thing I did to Steeltoe Joe at Explosion.

I'm going to pin you for the 1...2...3..."

The congregation releases a loud amen, but NvL isn't done. He slams his hand on the podium once more.

"You boys just made a mistake; you believed that once I struck down one false priest, that I was done. But we have these vile creatures all around us. Take Joel Hall for example. He is what I consider an ignorant preacher, a man who speaks only to insult with no fact to back his beliefs up.

You honestly want to talk about winning titles, Hall? You think that I cried over not winning some piece of shit belt that FPV holds? If you had looked away from your video games, you would've saw me about to put FPV away. And then some girl, a fan of the man, jumped on my back. I was distracted, and FPV struck.

But I struck too.

I clocked him at the same moment that he clocked me. I didn't win the title, but I proved that FPV cannot beat me even with help. That title I don't need to achieve my goals. Let FPV keep his title; he still knows that he can't beat me.

But, you, a man who cannot even win a title, wants to address gold. And accomplishments, while I'm at it? You honestly think eliminating you was my only accomplishment? I finished third in War, won the One Invitational, won a belt, and wiped your ass around the ring in our multiple encounters. People might say I sound like a broken record, but at least I play a tune. You're just the sound that is made when fingernails are scratched on a chalkboard.

Fucking annoying.

You haven't done anything in this company, and yet you believe you have a chance against me this week. You're just like Stylez was two weeks ago; he believed that since this wasn't War, he could beat me. He realized, after getting his ass beat our whole match, that the number of men in the ring doesn't matter. He cheated to win, but he realized that I'm a monster in that ring. So how can you honestly win?

You're no different than the other no-bodies I've faced. You say the usual 'I'm going to send you to hell' bullshit that seems to be required in promos against me. You talk about how people are anticipating my trip to the EMTs. I'm glad you looked up a big word to use, but I believed your word usage is wrong. The fans are hoping that I get sent to the hospital. Praying might even be suitable for this situation.

Even when I say that I'm going to fucking destroy you this week, people don't anticipate it.

They predict it."

Nathan steps around the podium, walking to the front row.

"Congregation, I ask you, if you so desire to walk the path of false beliefs, walk in Joe's path. He has conviction in a belief that even Warhawk cannot break. Once Andrew finishes him at One, he will be martyr for his cause. In a different church, Joe is a man worth following. But, I beg you, don't ever be a Joel Hall.

Don't ever be fucking retarded.

But, so none of you ever walk down the wrong path, we end this devotion with a prayer. Please, place your foreheads upon a neighbor, and please, someone step forth to be my prayer partner. I shall say the prayer first, so listen closely. After I finish, say repeat the prayer with your partner"

Shifting can be heard as partners are chosen. Even Nathan is given a partner. One of the boys hands Nathan a baby doll, a bald girl, with "MIA" written across the forehead in sharpie marker. Nathan places his head on the baby's plastic skull, and speaks aloud his prayer.

"Father Satan, we come to you as followers of your son, Obi Christ. We have been taught the ways of false believers and how they attempt to corrupt us with their false ways. We ask that you keep us strong, standing firm against the lies. Guide us, so we may strike down these believers when the time is ripe, allowing you to walk unhindered through the entire universe. Amen."

Nathan finishes speaking, and the drone of a hundred voices speaking at once is heard. But Nathan, who turns "Mia's" face to the camera, still speaks. And he is heard over everything else.

"Steeltoe Joe and Joel Hall, recognize the true plague I am on this company. And heed these words, as a final reminder of your fate at Slam 'light lasts only as long as its source. Darkness never disappears.'

Book of Liebert, Chapter 4, verse 7."

Both hands on Mia's head, Nathan squeezes, popping the plastic head off. The body drops to the ground, and Nathan turns, hurling the baby's head at the mural. The plastic slams into the face of Jesus as the scene fades out.