Mountain: Topped - The Story of War

[Corey Black]

COREY BLACK

Wrestler's Information

Aliases	Height	Weight	Place of Residence
The Jomsviking, The Avenger, The King of All Wrestlers	5'9" (1.75259m)	217lbs (98.42kg)	The Dethfort
Place of Birth	Date of Birth	College	Degree
Iowa City, IA	June 6th, 1983	WCF	Future World Champion

Skill Breakdown

Technical	Brawler	Powerhouse	High Flyer	Hardcore
100%	100%	100%	100%	100%

Lift Record

Squat	Bench Press	Tire Deadlift	Deadlift	Log Lift	Log Carry
WHO	CARES	COREY BLACK	IS THE	FUCKING	BEST

The Prologue

Have you ever looked closely at that bell tower? I mean, have you ever studied it? Its masonry has an odd sheen to it, not really stone. More.. bone. And the mortar used, it has a strange consistency to it. More like.. flesh.

The bell tower is more than a construct to signal someone's demise. It's a headstone. A marker for those foolish enough to step forward and plummet into the waiting arms of a Burning Hammer eager to add you to the edifice of the Creeping Death. Your designated headstone; designed and built to house men, women, and mountains.

All in a row.

When the bell sounds, all those within earshot know the coming storm. The released anger within a tormented soul. A being unlike any other on planet Earth or beyond.

Held within a man standing five feet nine inches. Weighing a mere two hundred and seventeen pounds. The most feared professional wrestler the world has ever seen.

His ferocity is not housed within muscle but his heart and soul. An engine of unimaginable rage, capable of rendering victims mute with terror. And in that silence a single scream; a song of joy as a creeping death finds a new and interesting ways to dissect humanity and place it in a bell jar.

Studied, Labeled. Documented. Trinkets that contain wondrous pain and anguish. Treats to be enjoyed at one's leisure. One jar remains empty. Contents to be submitted at a later date. To be submitted tonight.

Name: Bates, Thomas Uriel

Occupation: BITCH

The Meeting

It's night time in the world's most famous city. New York City, the lucky home of WCF's fifteenth War event. NYC is home to many famous people, many not so famous people, and an endless stream of media juggernauts both fictional and non fiction. The Tonight Show, Saturday Night Live, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Iron Man and Friends just to name a few. It has been home to many pro wrestling events, numerous legendary sporting events, and now all that comes to a head with the biggest War event ever.

The streets of New York may seem glamorous to many, but to those that use the streets as their own personal gain, well they aren't so glitzy. While there is Rockefeller Center and Times Square, there's also back alleys where murders, rapes and drug trafficking take place. New York is a very two faced kind of town. Everyone wants to be there for the good stuff, but when something bad happens, they flee to Boston or New Jersey. Some don't even leave the city, they just leave the physical plane of existence. Among the less law-driven parts of society are the gangs. Bloods, Crips, Latin Kings - and countless biker clubs. Each block of NYC is controlled by a group. One block could be Kings, the next could be a club, the next is Crips. Within each designated area only the controlling party can operate. For a group of three unfortunate souls, they were caught trying to sell women on a block which they didn't own.

Four leather bound white men lead two scrawny but very flashy dressed black men down an alleyway, guns drawn. The white men bark orders, not really caring who hears them. They know they are the law where they are, any bystanders live where they do business, and there's always more people looking to move should there be a vacancy.

Biker
On your knees, niggers! Like your mothers would be in the presence of me!

Reluctantly, the men oblige. Two guns for each head, their options are quite limited. A duo of bikers begin laughing at the situation.

Biker
Heh, this will all be fine and dandy once President Trump takes office. All the spics will be deported, the niggers will be lynched, and we white folk will have this country to ourselves again. It'll be great!

Biker
Yeah, then these fuckin' niggers won't sell women on our block anymore! We have this section, nigger. This is ours. You don't come around here peddling the crack whores we sell crack to!

One of the black guys tries to mutter something, but he's cut off with a gun grip to the base of the skull. He crumbles to the wet pavement of this alley, and the second black man simply holds his ground, not saying a word. This catches the attention of one of the bikers.

Biker
You ain't got nothin' fancy to say, eh nigger? Smart boy. You'd have worked nicely in my fields. Put the fear of god into you niggers and you'll do exactly what you're told. It's in your blood.

The black man sighs as two of the bikers unload into the passed out guy. Kicks, physically hitting the man with their guns, it's a beat down on a lifeless body. Each time a hit connects, the man winces.

Biker
You're next, boy.

From around the corner, blue and red lights are seen flashing. A loud voice rings out.

Voice
THIS IS THE POLICE. PUT YOUR HANDS UP.

Three of the bikers flee, but the last keeps his lock on the black man on his knees. After a few moments, he spits at the man and takes off another way, only to be clobbered in the kneecap with a blunt object. A sickening crunch echos off the sides of the tall buildings. The biker draws his weapon up only to have it knocked out of his hand with the object, and a third strike to the cranium does the job. The biker falls down in a heap. The fancy dressed black man stands up and walks over to the biker.

Black Guy
Maaan I'm glad I text you.

From around the corner of the building steps Corey Black, dressed in all black with a hood and mask covering the bottom part of his face. He's holding a baseball bat.

Corey Black
I thought you were done with this game, Steve.

Steve Orbit, selling hookers in biker territory around the time of War. You should have known.

Steve Orbit
You know me, boss. Old habits die hard. This is where the dumbest white motherfuckers come to look for bitches to put their dick in. There's a below ground parking garage two clicks down, that's usually the go-to spot for fuckin' in this part of town.

Corey Black
You just be happy as can be I had my gimmick stuff with me. There's a whole lot on my plate right now and I never know if ol' Batesyboy holds true to his word. I think he commissions guys to rough his opponents up, to be honest with you.

Steve Orbit
That wouldn't surprise me a bit, nig. What's the toy that sounded like the cops?

Corey laughs to himself and pulls out his cell phone. He guides a drone with lights and a speaker attached to a mounted tablet around and down to his location.

Steve Orbit
What kind of fuckin' wacked out Final Deletion shit is this?

Corey Black
It worked, didn't it?

Steve gives Corey a high five and a fist bump while nodding.

Steve Orbit
Haha motherfucking cracker ass Avenger shit. I'm surprised you gave this up, it seems like the most fun thing to do.

Corey Black
It's barely fun at all, Steve. These criminals are all over the place. Hell, you're one of them.

Steve Orbit
Now now, I help bitches spread their legs for rich honkeys. I don't hold them hostage or anything. They pay me a fee for my knowledge of the game, my G.

Corey Black
It's a more honorable way of breaking the law, but at least you aren't this asshole.

The biker is coming to, and Corey drops to his knee, placing it on the biker's chest and forcing him back to the ground.

Corey Black
You're going to tell me everything or I break your fucking skull open.

Biker
Okay okay God damn man! This nigger her-

Corey unloads a giant right hand to the nose of the biker.

Corey Black
This is my friend. You'll respect him.

Biker
Gaaaawd fuck! Shit! This boy here was selling women on our turf! You should know how this city works, being as you're fuckin' Batman. My boss asked me to keep an eye out and eliminate the pimps. That's it.

Corey Black
And your boss is.. who?

Biker
The most powerful man this city has ever seen, ya hear? He goes by The Bull. And he's going to gore your eyes out!

Corey Black
Huh, I guess we'll just have to see about that, won't we?

BOOM. Falling spinning backfist from Steve Orbit, slamming the biker's head against the pavement. He's done for. Bleeding from the back of the head as well as the nose. Steve spits on the biker as he stands up and heads over to check on the other black man who was knocked out earlier. Corey Black checks the biker and finds a business card to a strip club. He walks over and shows it to Steve.

Corey Black
Familiar with this establishment?

Steve Orbit
The Golden Unicorn? Of course, that's usually where I find my livestock. It's pretty close by.

Corey Black
Of course it is. How's your buddy?

Steve Orbit
I think he'll be okay, they beat his ass up pretty bad but you don't become a pimp if you can't take your lumps.

Corey Black
Alright, good. We should his the road before those other guys come back. My car is around the way here, I've got a safe house here in the city.

Steve Orbit
I bet you do.

Steve and Corey bid farewell to the other pimp as he gets up off the ground, scampering off into the night. The duo walk through another section of alley and to Corey's sleek black car. They get in and take off for the safe house.

The Execution

Inside the safe house, a long wooden table is surrounded by six chairs. Only two are filled. And the coffee cakes are fresh. Corey takes a bite of a coffee cake, then offers the plate to Orbit. Steve declines. Corey shrugs and takes the plate back over to the head of the table.

Corey Black
Don't ask me why I want to help you, I just do.

Steve Orbit
Is it because you feel bad for beating me and effectively ruining my WCF career?

Corey is silent for a few moments. He slowly takes another bite of coffee cake.

Corey Black
Noooooo...

Steve Orbit
You know as well as I do how much that was a nail in my coffin. You showed me exactly what WCF is all about. And I don't want to be part of that aside from filling in for you at the training center when you need me.

Corey Black
Yep, that's it, I want to help because you help me there. Bingo, hit the head on the nose, well done mate.

Steve isn't impressed.

Steve Orbit
Shut the fuck up Corey, I know you're full of shit. It's fine. I was rolling in the cash before WCF, I be rolling in it after. Just sometimes these bikers have beef.

Corey Black
Maybe if you wouldn't work their blocks, man.. it seems easy. Keep to your own blocks.

Steve Orbit
I don't have blocks, that's most of my problem. If everybody had their own section to use then there wouldn't be crime in this city. Period. This biker group has been strong arming their way around here for a while now, and they're putting the more honest people - like me - further out.

Corey Black
Honest? I'm going to pretend like the work you choose to do is honest. Just like how these bikers pretend their work is honest.

Steve Orbit
Shit, they're all crooked. They front with charity bullshit but in reality they're slinging every powder, plant or injectable you could imagine. Some you can't even imagine. It's fucked, man.

Corey Black
Preaching to the choir, dude. I've been dealing with Bates and his two-faced nonsense for far too long now. One week he says he respects what I have done and he would be pleased to give me a shot at the World Title, the next he's kicking my face off and gloating about it.

Steve Orbit
Garbage. That man is pure garbage. How he can get off telling everyone he's the 'good guy' is beyond me.

Corey Black
Well. I mean. I DID try to jump him first. But he's twice my size, of course I'm going to try to get the upper hand.

Steve Orbit
You got this. I have faith in your abilities. That's why I text you my location, I knew you'd be the one guy that would show up, even if it is because you are guilty.

Corey sighs, he's been found out. It was all too east for Orbit.

Corey Black
Yeah. ...yeah. Let's get to this Golden Unicorn and find out some information. Those bikers couldn't have followed us here.

Steve stands up from the table and looks to the coffee cakes. Corey snatches them before Steve can move. An eye roll later and the two men are back in Corey's car and headed to the strip club. While inside the car, Steve Orbit gets a bit curious about it.

Steve Orbit
So like.. this is the Avengermobile?

Corey Black
Eh, no, not really. It's a car. I don't have any special attachment to it. It's no motorcycle. My name isn't emblazoned across the side. It gets me from point A to point B, sometimes pretty quickly.

Steve Orbit
I just figured with all the money you've got.. you're basically Tony Stark. You could commission a car that transforms into a suit of armor.

Corey Black
Only in my dreams, old friend. Only in my dreams.

The car's GPS navigator directs Corey to the Golden Unicorn, close to where our heroes met up. It's in a bit of a rougher part of NYC, almost every building has bars on the windows. Corey parks his car in the street, the two exit and walk into the club no questions asked. No bouncer, no cover, nothing. Inside is dimly lit at best, a few men in the chairs near the stage, a very good looking young lady dancing her pants off - literally - and an old lady bartender.

Steve Orbit
Let me handle this, Casanova.

The Mack struts over to the bartender, still wearing his blue suit, and orders himself a drink.

Steve Orbit
Well well well, hello there. I'd like your finest whiskey. My friend here will take scotch.

Corey Black
Scratch that, Diet Coke for me.

Steve Orbit
Oh yeah, man it's been too long.

The bartender retrieves the drinks as Corey's attention drifts to the young woman on stage. Steve leans against the bar in such a way that suggests flirtation. The bartender comes back with the drinks and Orbit flashes a large stack of money to pay a mere six dollar tab with.

Steve Orbit
Say, you wouldn't happen to know where I could score some.. you know..

Steve raises his hand to his nose and mimes shoveling something into it. The old woman bartender catches his drift immedietly.

Bartender
Around here, the best place to score is next door at the laundry mat. Go up to the window and ask for the 'ultimate spin cycle' - he'll know what you need.

Steve Orbit
Hey, thanks a ton. Come on buddy, let's boo-boo.

Corey takes his attention off the stage for a split second to drink his Diet Coke while Steve downs his shot. They nod to the bartender and head out of the small establishment, across the building and into the laundry mat. There, a guy running the desk sits with his feet up on a chair and holding a newspaper.

Steve Orbit
Hey man, we're looking for ... the ultimate spin cycle.

The desk clerk pops up to his feet and ushers the heroes into the back, where another man sits and looks disinterested until a sale walks through.

Man
Gentlemen, looking for the ultimate spin cycle?

Corey Black
You got that right. Before we buy, though, I'd like to ask.. where do you get your goods?

The guy looks to the clerk for a second, about to act but Orbit busts out that fat stack of cash he has.

Steve Orbit
We ain't got all day, boys.

Man
Oh, jeez, I don't know. A shipment comes in every evening. I give the delivery guy the cash, he gives me the goods.

Steve looks to Corey and nods. Corey leaps over the table and tackles the peddler while Orbit spears the clerk to the ground. After a small struggle, they have the thugs bound by zip ties. They attempt to break free, but nobody breaks out of those things. They're industrial strength.

Steve Orbit
Man this is awesome! Need a sidekick?

Corey Black
I have never - and will never - need a sidekick. I'm only doing this for you, dude. Normally I'd ignore these street punks until they did something really worth my time.

Steve Orbit
Yeah yeah. Alright boys, we're looking for The Bull. Who has information?

Neither man speaks, but one begins to sweat. Corey notices and kneels down next to him. This startles the clerk, he begins to shake.

Corey Black
Tell me where to find The Bull and you will only have to wait until the delivery driver gets here. Don't tell me, and you're going in a dryer.

Clerk
Fuck man come on! I'm just here for a job! He runs the Lost Souls MC on 8th! You'll never get in thou-

Pimpslap! Orbit hits the man hard, also knocking him out. Corey stands up and puts his hands in the air as if to say that wasn't his fault. The other guy rolls to his side in defeat, knowing full well he's tied up until the next day.

Steve Orbit
Well, to the MC then?

Corey Black
Just the two of us? I don't know dude. I'm not sure if you can sweet talk bikers.

Steve Orbit
I'm not looking to sweet talk. I'm looking to take The Bull down. You know horror movies. Let's fuck their shit up.

Corey Black
This isn't a fucking game, Steve. I've got a life beyond this. I helped you get the information you need, now I can't be taking out a drug kingpin.

Steve Orbit
What would Creeping Death do?

Corey Black
He'd hit you for even mentioning his name.

Steve Orbit
One last thing, man. You help me with this, you can go focus on your stupid World Title match. Bro to bro, I need you right now.

Corey goes to speak but he just drops his arms. He boots one of the men in the gut on the way out. Steve is as excited as can be, almost frolicking out to the car. Corey sits down in the driver's seat, Steve in the passenger. They head down the street a ways in complete silence. Corey parks a few blocks away from the Lost Souls MC and looks over to Steve.

Corey Black
Alright. We cut the power, go in through the second floor door there. Hopefully he's in there.

Steve Orbit
Fuck. Yes. Let's do this.

The heroes shuffle their way to the junction box where the power cable enters the dilapidated building. One yank from both men and the cable dislodges, rendering the building dark. A few gasps come from the place but nothing dangerous. Corey boosts Steve up onto a balcony, Steve helps Corey up and they slip in a sliding glass door and come face to face with a naked woman. Two of them, actually. With a big tattooed man in between them.

Tattoo Man
What the fuck is this!?

Steve lunges over and grabs the man's arm, Corey flies through the air with a dropkick to his chest. This presses him against the wall where Steve drops and pumphandles the left arm, hooking it around the man's knee and dropping him into a sitting position. Corey traps the other arm and rains down a few elbows. The women scream, but nobody comes running. The MC is empty save for the boss and his women.

Corey Black
Leave, ladies. This doesn't concern you.

They bolt. Corey has knocked the man loopy, Steve joins in with a Pimpslap of his own.

Steve Orbit
The Bull, you motherfucker, you almost got me killed!

The Bull
Fuck you n-word, you and the step-sons of the world need a whooping!

Corey Black
I think you're the one that needs it!

Corey hoists The Bull up and together with Steve Orbit, sends the man through the sliding glass door and onto the balcony, sending glass shards everywhere. Corey stalks the man, clearly seeing red.

Corey Black
This is where your story ends, Bull. Either you allow my friend here to work one of your corners or we send you packing.

The Bull
Do your worst, nigger lover.

Corey cracks a smile, nods to Steve. The Bull is on wobbly legs, barely able to stand after being sent through the glass. Cuts all over his body are the least of his worries now as our heroes rush and hit a double Superkick to The Bull, sending him off the balcony! He lands hard on the rain soaked pavement of the bike parking lot they have at the MC! Corey and Steve drop back down and kneel over The Bull, he's barely breathing. But he'll live.

The Bull
Fine, boy. Work my block. But know this.. if you step out of line, there's an entire club that will lynch your black ass at the drop of a hat. And you, whitey - you're a disgrace to your race. I ain't never seen a pure blood be bossed around by no nigger like you are.

Corey Black
That's where dickheads like you are wrong. This is the best time to be alive - or it should be, if people like you didn't exist. You bring it down. Your intolerance for anyone that isn't exactly like you makes the rest of the world sick.

The Bull
There's a lot more of me out there than there are you.

Corey Black
And I'm going to topple your fucking world.

Corey spits on The Bull and begins walking away.

Steve Orbit
Pleasure, boss!

Steve pats Bull on the chest before standing and walking over to Corey's car where he's sitting. Orbit climbs in, full of joy.

Steve Orbit
Thanks man.

Corey Black
Thanks? We got lucky, Steve. That place should have been crawling with bikers. Instead we got two women and a surprised leader. That's not usually how shit like this goes, and it's exactly why I don't do it anymore. There's no changing the world one crime at a time. You have to change the world with your influence as a public figure. I have to win the WCF World Title in order to get through to the masses.

Steve Orbit
Then do it, man.

Corey Black
I fuckin' will, Steve.

Corey puts the car in gear and speeds away from the MC just as a bunch of bikes pull up. The night ends in the favor of our heroes. This time.

The Shattered Mirror

After the adventure with Steve, Corey was wiped out. He heads back to the bunker in NYC and tries to relax for a bit. With his World Title match looming, he can't sleep. He knows it's one of the biggest nights of his life and he has to win this not only for himself, but for everyone else that cannot stand Thomas Uriel Bates. Frustrated with his inability to rest, Corey head back out into the city. It's day now, so he heads to MSG where the show is being held. The marquee reads 'WCF War: This Sunday Night! Fifty Man Battle Royal! Corey Black Verses Thomas Uriel Bates For The WORLD TITLE! King of All Media: Teddy Blaze Verses Gemini Battle!' Corey's no stranger to having his name in lights, but this one hits him hard. He snaps a photo of the marquee on his cell phone and heads off walking in the other direction, coming across a gym. He pops in, greets the clerk working the desk and is allowed access with no payment. Inside, large men are lifting ungodly amounts of weight. Ridiculous feats of strength. But here's Corey Black. He's not a body builder. He's not a mountain. He's one of the smallest men on any roster. Any one of these guys could pick him up and throw him across the gym with one hand. 

That's exactly the king of challenge Corey Black likes.

Corey leaves the gym and grabs a hot dog from a street vendor. He gets a call on his cell phone as he is paying the vendor.

Corey Black
Hello? Oh hey, yeah, meet me at The Garden? I'm real close. Cool, see you soon.

Leaving the vendor in a bit of a rush, Corey eats his street dog and walks back to MSG. Sitting in her car in the loading area is Nikki Venus, she gets out and gives Corey a hug as he approaches.

Nikki Venus
Big night.

Corey Black
Very big night. Shall we?

Nikki nods and the two head for a door in the loading bay. Security greets them and allows entrance into the world's most legendary arena. Walking through the corridors to an open area with WCF staff scrambling about, setting up interview areas and lights. Through this area and to the locker rooms, Corey enters his own and isn't met with his throne. That was destroyed. Instead it's a basic room with a table, some chairs, and a CCTV. Corey's gear is spread across the table, ready and waiting for him.

Nikki Venus
Alright. How do you feel?

Corey Black
I've had two weeks to recover from a beating. I'm fine. I'm ready.

Nikki Venus
Earlier one of the social media team gave me this tablet, it's hooked up to the WCF Facebook page. You're apparently supposed to do a live video here soon.

Corey Black
Always up with the cutting edge of technology. Give me a second, load it up.

Corey steps aside and takes a deep breath. This is it. This is where he tells the world exactly what he thinks of Thomas Bates, what he's going to do to this mountain of a man, and potentially gets into the giant's head just enough to throw him off his game. Nikki holds the tablet up and nods, indicating they are live. It's time for..

The Destruction

Corey Black
For the last fourteen years, I've bled for WCF. I've done everything I possibly could to ensure this company's survival. I made damn sure the money flow was large enough to sustain Seth's affinity for helicopters. But lately, things have changed. No longer do I feel like this is 'my' company anymore. New guys have stepped in my place, taken charge of the locker room. New faces lead the marquee and are on the cover of our video games. These new faces, though, aren't worth a damn. They'll never even sniff the legacy I have cultivated. Many have tried, all have failed. Danny Anderson thought it was his time. Nope, it sure wasn't. Dion Necurat was sure he'd have my number until I changed to the Greek alphabet. La Muerte Negra? Was that even their name? Doesn't matter, they should have stayed in Mexico. The list keeps going on and on and on, but one name hasn't learned their lesson yet. One man can still stake a claim to my throne.. until tonight when I extinguish any flame Thomas Uriel Bates thought he had.

See, this is a guy that is literally twice my size and a foot bigger than I am. The main problem with you Bates is that you think size makes you entitled, It doesn't. Talent does. So how are you going to solve that problem? With prayer? Don't bother, I have no intention of answering. I bring this up solely for everyone to marvel at the giant I am about to knock flat on his back. That's the good thing about giants - the bigger they are, the more I want to kick their lights out because it's all they have. You look at Thomas Bates and you see impressive stature. But what else do you see? Do you see a decent pro wrestler in there or is he a one trick pony? I've taken the best this dude has to offer and I'm still asking for more. Powerbomb. Burning Hammer, Big Boot, yet it doesn't matter. No matter what move he uses, he still hits LIKE A BITCH. His best couldn't keep Abaddon down, why in the blue hell does he think he's going to keep a Hall of Fame sonofagun like me down - when the WCF World TItle is on the line? Get out of town. I went through hell to fight Thomas Bates, and I wasn't even assured a World Title match out of the deal. If I'm able to pull the curtain back a little bit, going into the King of the Deathmatch tournament, my prize was Bates and whatever belt he had. If he didn't have one, fine, I still wanted to fight him. I busted my ass and broke my body for seven days in six matches for the chant to stand face to face with the Ultimate Badass just so I could shove my elbow in his fucking mouth and shut him up.

All I hear from this guy is 'man I respect you. I respect what you have done.' Blah blah fucking blah Bates, you know what I respect about you? Not a goddamn thing. You're a piece of shit human and a two-faced fuck of a man. All you bible belt right wing nutcases are the same. You'll huff and puff about Jesus Christ, how gays shouldn't marry, blacks should be in the field, everybody gets guns and by George the schools should pray. You'll tell that to everyone you even think will listen, until someone better than you shows up and all the sudden it's all respect and admiration. That only goes until you find your time to strike, and you try to knock those better than you down so you hold the power.

Guess what, Bates? You can't topple the fuckin' best. You're the Champion right now, but come Monday morning when you can't eat without a straw, you'll know goddamn well that Corey Black is the real deal and your life is all a lie. Throughout your career Daddy Bates had fed you full of shit. You think learning how to wrestle from a giant is the way to learn the ropes? Are you kidding me right now? I wish I still had Reb's Ranchero so I could go back in time and knock your dad's block off before he even began thinking of reproducing. All that motorcycle riding must have scrambled your brain when you were in your momma's belly because you're a one note song. You've got a mean kick that can't keep down the most jobberish jobber of all time, I've used it to put away your former associates and nobody has kicked out of it. You can't keep up with me. You sure as hell can't withstand the damage I'm going to unleash on you in a deathmatch. Look, Bates, I once fell thirty feet, got up, and finished a match with a win. You would call time out if you tripped over your shoelaces. That's not to toot my own horn, but it fucking happened, and it's a testament to the man you're overlooking.

Why exactly did you leave last year? If I remember right, you got beat by a guy I've destroyed in War and took your bike home to become the next Jesse Ventura. Turns out you were just the next Mitt Romney. So you can't beat the main event scene last year, you bail, and you make a triumphant return just in time for the Mexico Incident. You know what's ironic about that? I would wager a guess you pulled some strings in making that happen just so you could band the locker room together and become the leader of the roster since you never even had a chance at being a senator. You're a power-hungry man, Thomas. You lead your motorcycle club and it wasn't enough, so you had to lead a state - when that fell through, you came back to lead a pro wrestling company's roster. It's too bad I'm exposing exactly who you are now, because when this is all said and done, the roster will come back to me like a bunch of fucking sheep. I'm going to eliminate their idol, their monolith, and it'll just be another Sunday for me. Business as usual, walk in to a big match, walk out with my arm raised. For you, though, it'll be the most important day in your life. When the guy you look down your nose to and fake respecting took your world in his hands and tore it apart.

In your first match here you threw a man thirty feet in the air. Right out of the gate everyone was amazed at what you could do. Slowly but surely details of your life trickled in and it became clear to a select few that you aren't in it for the competition. See, that's why I fight, Bates. I fight because I like the thrill of it. I like to have a challenge. You're surely a challenge, we battled once and neither one of us could beat the other. How did you take that, Thomas? You didn't. You could not beat me, but at the end of this all, you come out with your chest puffed saying I couldn't beat you. That exact reasoning is why I asked to fight you if I won the Deathmatch Tournament. I can't beat Thomas Bates - that's never something I want attached to my name. There's other men far better than you I couldn't beat too. Brad Kane, Jonny Fly, Jayson Price, Steve Orbit - what happened, Thomas? I clowned each and every one of them and put their fucking shoulders down. All because they claimed I couldn't beat them. This is why I fight. You fight because you have a need to prove yourself worthy. You're a massive - MASSIVE crybaby bitch. It's not enough to be bigger than everybody, you have to be better than everybody - and you're not. You're not better than me, or any of the guys that left. You can't beat everyone and it bugs you. You have worked your entire life to be better than your peers. It was put in your head early that you were destined for greatness. I'm here to give you a fuckin' reality check. And I sure as shit won't be the last to do it, mark my words.

I can beat Thomas Bates. And I sure as hell WILL beat Thomas Bates. I'll beat him for the WCF World Championship. I'll beat him for the roster. I'll beat him for the fans. But most importantly, I'm going to beat The Mountain for me. Strip this entire charade down to its core and you have a hero trying to beat a villain. I'm not the bad guy in this story, as much as it pains Mr. Bible Thump over there, he's the one that has caused the anguish. I return to the battleground of the WCF ring to fight five men over a week's time all so I can stand face to chest with the biggest, baddest bastard WCF has to offer - but he's worried about his spot. He's worried that Joey Flash is coming back and Thomas will no longer be the focus of the commercials. First and foremost, Joey Flash isn't taking the WCF World Title from Bates - that's me. Then I'm taking his spot, Flash can waltz in to take what's left and if he wins War, I'll happily make him humble at One. Will I stand with WCF against this 'threat?' Of course I will. But only if Private Bates can let the real leader lead. Otherwise, you dickheads are on your own. I've got better things to worry about than a pretend Civil War run by a megalomaniac without a single reason to be so. You're calling for a War of Secession, for WCF to stand up against these 'invaders' but with you at the lead it'll go just like how it did for your forefathers. The South never won, a WCF led Thomas Bates will never win. You will fail in your battle against me, and I will take hold of the army. I will lead them to victory. This will become my fight, my right, and my War. Heroes lead armies through troubled times, they step up and make themselves known. But you Bates, you're an opportunist that sold snake water to a kindergarten of troubled greenhorns. Seth raided the orphanage and you taught them how to pickpocket. You're the child catcher. The pied piper leading the cavalry over the cliff (of doom) down towards the rocks below. And you do this with a smile because you know that deep down, this is the only victory you'll ever savor. The one where you destroy a whole crop of stars before they can supersede you. You did it to Mikey eXtreme, you'll do it to Kevin Bishop and Adrian Archer. You're not a mountain, Bates. You're a parasitic molehill. You're malaria, a fever that crawls under the skin and consumes the mind. Once, not so long ago, you were contained to the DRG, But when the exodus happened? You went airborne. You infected this whole roster. You couldn't help yourself, the power was too great. It satiated every need you ever had. But the mask slipped and the real Thomas Bates appeared. I've known it since day one, but now everyone else will know it too. You feed off those who who you even the slightest bit of admiration and you use that. You use people to move yourself up the food chain, move yourself into a position of power and then you crush them under your iron fist for the fucking giggles of it. Body of a mountain, mind of a dictator. Mount Hitler, at your service.

Last time I was seen, I was laying in a heap. My throne was destroyed and my body was right there with it. But I'm standing. I'm here, ready to fight Thomas Bates, ready to fight whomever is in my way. I can't remember the last time I was even one hundred percent. But this isn't the time nor the place to worry. Tonight, I fight a man for a prize that should always be mine anyway - and we do it in the most dangerous way possible. Surrounded by barbed wire, light tubes, nails and more. This is my element. My domain. I made my name by putting myself through this kind of torture. When the King of the Deathmatch signups went live, my name was the first on the list. This is what makes me better than Thomas Bates. I can wrestle. I can fly. I can strike. And I absolutely relish the deathmatch side of professional wrestling. For I am King of this very match. I am the best the company has to offer, and it shall be my pleasure to subject Bates to the most painful moment of his life. I THRIVE on it. I'm sure I surprised the world when I introduced ol' Tommy Boy to the nature of the beast called deathmatch. He could very well have had experience against some tooti fruity banjo buttfuckers in Alabama, but this is WCF. This is the elite. This is the home of Corey Black, the harbinger of destruction tonight at War. I'm going to do things to Thomas Bates that would make Terry Funk cringe. Cuts from head to toe, bludgeon with a cinder block, you fucking name it, I'm going to unleash HELL on this bitch!

Corey is absolutely fired up. He almost tears his shirt off, revealing his scarred chest and abdomen.

Corey Black
This shit right here is my history written in scars. Over here? Jaded girlfriend with a weed whacker. This one on my arm? Cross wrapped in barbed wire where I defended the Hardcore Title. Every mark tells a story, Bates, but all yours after tonight will tell the same. They'll all tell the tale of the very same story. When you're old and dying, your great grand children will surround your death bed. Ignore the sound of the bells haunting your waking minutes for just a little while, it's almost time. They'll ask you to tell them stories about when you were a mighty pro wrestler. You'll tell them about Trios, about the DRG, you'll explain how you won the WCF World Title in a sham - but then you'll get to the end of your tale. You can show them your body, how disfigured the Ultimate Badass has become. They'll be disgusted at the terraformed Mountain laying before them, and with your dying breath - I want you to whisper to whoever is around you. Tell them the tale of your scars. Let them know your final story was written at War Fifteen.

Tell them ... Corey Black held the quill.

Corey stares into the camera breathing heavily as Nikki Venus ends the video. She slowly puts the tablet down and looks over to Corey, still angered and nearly sending a vein through the skin of his neck. She walks over to him and places a hand on his shoulder, she breathes deep.

Nikki Venus
It's time to unchain the beast.

Corey's eyes widen and he shakes his head, taking a step back and looking at Nikki who is holding a photo. It's of a man, woman, and three children. The smallest has a large black shadow above him. Corey looks at the photo, then to Nikki.

Corey Black
Not this time.

Nikki Venus
Are you kidding me, Corey? You say all that shit but you know you're in for the fight of your life.

Corey Black
I can beat him myself. I NEED to beat him myself.

Nikki Venus
Come on, this isn't the time nor the place. Take a break, let the beast take over and everything will be fine.

Nikki goes to show Corey the photo again but he grabs her wrist. She jerks back but he holds firm. With his other hand, Corey slowly takes the photo out of Nikki's hand and crumples it up, throwing it to the side.

Corey Black
I think it's time you leave, Nikki. I'll call you after the match.

Nikki Venus
Corey, please, I know what's best for you. I'm the only friend you actually have.

Corey Black
You'd like to think that, Nikki, but you're not the only one. Just go back to your hotel, I don't need you coaxing anything out of me that needs to stay in.

Nikki pulls her arm free and sulks out of the locker room. She looks back one last time but Corey is looking at the floor in front of him, not watching her go. She closes the door on her way out, and within seconds Corey has picked up the photo of his family when he was young. Right there in the picture, his mother and his father both look very unhappy. His sister and brother, though, are cheery kids as kids usually are. They don't care how they have it, as long as they're having fun, they're good to go. And then there's Corey. Obvious shadow above him. He looks at the photo as if it's the first time he has seen it, and then he realizes. Creeping Death wasn't created when his father did those things. No, of course not. Creeping Death is beyond that, most mystical in nature. Corey's eyes begin to cloud, but he looks away and they go back to normal. He puts the photo in his pocket and heads out of the locker room, then down the hallway and out the bay door just in time to see Nikki Venus speeding off. A worker looks up to Corey from the ground.

Worker
Nothing like a woman scorned, eh?

Corey Black
Haha, yeah, you got that right. It's for the best though.

Worker
You better hope so, pal.

Corey laughs, nods, and takes out his cell phone once again as he goes back into MSG. He hits a few buttons, sends a text and holds the device to his head. A moment later, he puts it back in his pocket and goes to his locker room.

The End

A short time later, Corey is still sitting in his locker room. He hasn't touched his gear, it's still all neatly laid out on the table. The gold metallic boots glisten in the light. Corey is checking his phone almost every second. Soon there's a knock at the door, Corey jumps out of his chair to go open the door. Standing there in all her glory, short black dress is...

Taylor Swift
Goodness, I came as soon as I got your text! What the hell is she thinking?!

Clearly Corey had explained to Ms. Swift what Nikki Venus was attempting to do. Taylor isn't a fan of Creeping Death. She walks in and sits down, looking over Corey's gear. He pulls the photo out of his pocket to show her. She gasps, then puts the picture down.

Taylor Swift
No, you don't need any help tonight.

Corey Black
I know, that's why I messaged you. I don't know what it is, but whenever I feel it starting to come out, you have the ability to lock it away just by existing.

Taylor Swift
Am I the Creeping Death repellent spray?

Corey Black
Haha, I guess you are.

Taylor Swift
So why do you keep her around then? She just invokes it?

Corey Black
She helps, yeah. Sometimes I need that boost, you know? She's been a great friend to me. I want to support her as best I can for her support as well.

Taylor Swift
I know how that goes. You should probably ask her to come back. Having her here will ease your mind and that's one less thing to worry about.

Corey Black
Yeah, you're right. Last thing I need is that in the back of my mind.

Corey picks up his phone and sends another text, then drops it back into his pocket. Taylor perks up in her chair and smiles wide.

Taylor Swift
So are you excited? Or worried?

Corey Black
I'm not worried, that's for sure. Did you see what I can do to this guy? He's a fuckin' putz. I dropped him with a top rope Falcon Arrow like it was nothing.

Taylor Swift
Yeah, but you hit him with a breaching ram and he is basically fine.

Corey Black
That just tells me I need to hit him with bigger stuff. Like a car. I'll hit this bitch with a car if that's what it takes. He's not going to beat me tonight. He's not going to beat me ever.

Taylor Swift
You didn't win Trios last year because Bates won.

Corey stops her with his finger to her lips.

Corey Black
No, darling, DRG beat a broken Pantheon. That's not anything to brag about. They beat two guys that asked me to be a part of their team after saying I wasn't good enough - and we got to the finals. For a trio of guys that couldn't work together anymore, I'd think we did well.

Taylor Swift
How are Jonny and Steve, anyway?

Corey Black
Jonny is... missing. Steve had some trouble yesterday but I helped him out.

Taylor Swift
Trouble?

Corey Black
Long story, you've probably already heard it twice.

Taylor giggles to herself and moves the hair out of her eyes. She's digging the ol' CD. He picks up on it. He's picked up on it for as long as they've know each other.

Corey Black
So why does the biggest pop-star in the world hang out with a dude that has to fight mountains in barbed wire for a living?

Taylor Swift
I don't know, it's different. It's secluded. I don't have Perez Hilton banging the door down to get a quote.

Corey Black
That's all?

Taylor Swift
Well no.. of course not.

And in that second, the locker room door opens. Nikki Venus walks in sheepishly, locking eyes with Taylor. For a moment, the air seems to be sucked out of the room. They both know of each other, and instantly Nikki can read what's happening. But she's not like that. She's a manager first and foremost.

Nikki Venus
Sorry about earlier, I thought it would help.

Taylor Swift
It would, but not tonight.

Corey Black
Yeah, everything about Bates pisses me off enough as it is. I don't need that burden of the comedown afterward. It's always a process. I want to just come back here, celebrate with my two favorite ladies, and relax with some gold.

Both of the women gush, turn red and change their posture.

Corey Black
World Title hot potato ends tonight. We can scratch Oblivion, Jeff Purse, Gemini Battle and Thomas Bates from the record books.

Nikki Venus
Hey, did you know Gemini Battle is gay?

Taylor Swift
Did you know Jeff Purse has OCD?

Corey Black
It doesn't matter what their character traits are, it's the fact that they would have never been Champion had I have the chance at taking the belt. Now that I do, and I'm going to murder Bates to get it, the streak ends. Line those motherfuckers up, I'll knock their asses down faster than the jobbers I wasted in the Deathmatch tournament. Day after day, I'll wipe the floor with Oblivion, Purse, Battle and Bates. You guys just watch me.

Taylor Swift
But who wins War?

Nikki Venus
Doesn't matter.

Corey Black
Exactly. You know what the winner of War gets this year? A fuckin' murk at One. That's the prize for winning the biggest match in WCF history. You get to go one on one with Corey Black, and I destroy whomever comes my way. New guys, old guys, old new guys, new old guys, it doesn't make a difference to me. And they can blame Thomas Bates for all this. He's the reason why I am even competing at a semi-regular pace. He's the fucking catalyst in this entire return. I hope his buddies Mikey eXtreme and Danny Anderson take him off their Christmas card list, because their destruction was in the name of Bates.

Corey stands up out of his chair, again pushing forth excitement and anger all at once.

Corey Black
Tonight, I will take back what is mine. What I built well over a decade ago. The WCF World Championship, a belt that has eluded my grasp for four years. My rightful throne in the Hall of Fame will gain one more jewel, another crest which all but enshrines me as the face of WCF. No longer will Logan be the man associated with the brand. How he still is - well that's beyond me. After tonight, I want the world to bow to my feet as I ascend into Valhalla. There, I will adorn the great table and eat a hearty meal. Odin will realize though, that it isn't yet my time. The Valkyries took me too early. Odin shall cast me back down to Midgard a warrior devine, unlike any others walking this plane of existence. I, Corey Black, The Destroyer of Mountains. The Annihilator of Treachery. The Exterminator of Pantheon. I have stood toe to toe with the most feared men in this company, and I've reduced each to dust. When the mountain falls and becomes nothing more than a field, Thomas Bates shall shout my name from wherever his corpse falls. Wrapped in barbed wire, broken glass all over his body - I demand he tell his God that Corey Black did this to him. Just as he is foretold to tell his grand children, and his children before them. His father, his father's father and his father's father's father before him all came up short in their mission in life. The name Bates will become synonymous with failure. All because Thomas couldn't keep his fucking mouth shut.

Taylor Swift
I have chills.

Nikki Venus
So do I.

Corey Black
Hold the excitement for the victory. Until then, the task is clear. Avoid the foot, and the rest is easy. I'm faster. I'm more skilled with the weapons. I'm simply better. Bates is outclassed in every single way possible and he's too fucking dumb to realize it. He expected a half-hearted broken down legends but instead he gets a Jomsviking looking to take his skull for a trophy. A monument to place next to my King of the Deathmatch trophy in my castle, to remind me exactly what I did this year. Against all odds, against all haters who will hate hate hate hate hate - I took on all comers and I achieved the highest glory a man can ever have. TO be Champion of the World. The very best at what he does. I've been there five times, this - this will be number six. By the end of the night, the One main event will be set. The World Title will be mine and I will keep it safe. If at the end of the night there is any kind of controversy, I will return with my prize and stake my claim as leader of this war. I will not come alone. This goes for Bates, for anybody coming back, for Logan, whomever steps foot in my ring. If anyone sullies the battles that are about to take place tonight, don't hold me back. I will walk down there and fuck shit up to protect the integrity of the show. I'm not going to risk my body, I'm not going to allow the War winner's moment to be tarnished because someone else has other agendas.

Taylor Swift
And we'll be right here by your side.

Nikki Venus
You got that right.

Corey Black
So will the roster. They will see what I make of Thomas Bates and come to terms with what he is. They'll turn their heads to me, as I stand there holding the most precious gold in the land, and I will lead this company into the future. Myself. No Jeff Purse or Kid Phantasm or Jay Omega holding me down by bailing when I needed them most. They couldn't handle the fire, and now they will kneel when I walk by as I take my rightful THRONE as King of All Wrestlers. While Thomas Bates is regulated to tag team matches with Gemini Battle in the midcard - I'll be sitting atop the company, looking down upon what I have created and accomplished. Ladies, I'm doing this for everyone. So everyone can have someone worth a fuck to look up to. I want the guys like Kevin Bishop or Adrian Archer to look up and see a World Champion that can compete with the very best, not have to wait until the company splits in half to seize control. I've been Champion before, and believe me when I say this - I missed it. It's not my ultimate goal in life, but when it's this close to your grasp all because you earned it ... actually earned it by winning a tournament, it is all the sweeter. Everything in the world pauses. Except helping a friend. Aside from that, the world hasn't moved an inch in the last two weeks. I haven't thought about anything other than what I was going to do to beat Thomas Bates. I tried to learn how to do moves that have beat me. The Connector, the R-Cairo, shit like that. Nothing felt like it could surpass or even match my own brand of violence. I sat in my dungeon for days just meditating, hoping to get a second of relief but it didn't happen. Why? Because I need this. I know I need this. I have to beat this big bastard to shut him the fuuuck up. There can't be a draw. We can't just not continue. The Deathmatch denotes there must be a winner, and when my hand is raised at the end of the match, I'll spit on Thomas Bates. I'll spit on him because he's garbage. Absolute garbage. A no good scoundrel that uses people. That fronts a motorcycle club with charity activity, but turns around and probably intimidates people for ransom. That's no leader. That's no World Champion. That, ladies, is the fucking villain of the story.

What happens to villains? They're beat. Hitler, Osama bin Laden, Donald Trump - all villains in their own right, and all have been or will be beat. The people will stand up and support the man - or woman - who should best represent them. I'm not a perfect man. I talk shit, I attack people, but I only do it to people that deserve it. I'm not going to waltz down to the ring and give Zero Tolerance a Burning Hammer because I hate them. No. I'm going to wait for them to say the wrong thing to me, and them I'm going to fuck their lives up. That's what I did to Bates. He said the wrong thing, and here I am - ready to fuck his life up. Take the one thing he holds closer to his heart than his stupid fucking motorcycle. I'm surprised he didn't mount the belt on the bike and then mount the bike himself. That's the kind of dude he is. Without his prized possessions, he can't create an army of underlings, and then there's nobody to worship him. The worship for Thomas Bates comes from fear. Fear he'll throw men thirty feet in the air. I don't fear him at all. I don't worship any man. Men worship me because I am the creator of their world. Without WCF, none of this is even possible. Without me, WCF doesn't exist. In essence, Thomas Bates should drop to a knee and pray to ME that I don't end his miserable life tonight. I won't grant him that. I will not allow Thomas Bates to walk out of War under his own power or with the WCF World Title. I am a vengeful man, that is true. Just how vengeful will become clear tonight.

Corey is shaking with anger. The women try to calm him down, but he excuses himself. Taylor and Nikki look to each other with fear in their eyes, they have never seen Corey Black this worked up without Creeping Death's backing. But that is exactly what is happening. This is one hundred percent Corey. One hundred percent for the love of WCF. For everyone on the roster. For Seth Lerch. For Jayson Price, and Jonny Fly, and Jeff Purse, and Steve Orbit - for everyone that has stood by him in the last few years. Some have turned their back, some have gone away - nevertheless, this fight is for each and every one of you. For everyone that has been a part of this journey both old and new - thank you.