Blast from the Past

The rain was lashing down, soaking the robed man known as Savage to his very bone. As he stepped down the foot-ladder leading to the shuttle terminal that would take him to Heathrow Airport Terminal 2, he took a long look up to the heavens, staring up hard at the grey skies, punctuated with the black rain-clouds currently spitting their venom and hatred upon the unsuspecting world below.

He stopped at the bottom of the ladder and sighed heavily. He had come to London far from his best, still feeling the after-effects of spending much of the last half a year strapped down to a hospital bed.

Smirking softly, he thought to himself how apt it was that he had arrived in London in the midst of a storm. "Eye of the Storm" indeed. How apt. How very apt.

And as for Savage? Once considered the harbinger, the bringer of the storm, he had been left to reflect and consider how far he had actually fallen over the period of the last number of months.

Add to the fact that he had not come here alone. As he walked slowly to the shuttle bus, Savage felt heavily the weight of the angel clawing onto his shoulder. The angel of death that had followed him ever since Samantha had callously passed across to him the news of who he would be fighting at Eye of the Storm.

*****

"Fate deals its hand in strange ways. Whatever it brings in one hand, it takes away in the other. For me, looking at the palm of my left hand, fate brought me life. In my right hand it brought me death. McKnight. My nemesis."

Muttering the words to himself as he sat down on the uncomfortable plastic seats, Savage disregarded the strange looks that other passengers gave him.

How many years of history lay between them? Eight years. Eight years of bloodshed and pain. Eight years of fury and hatred. Eight years of betrayal and a neverending quest for vengeance.

*****

We go back to the fall of 2002. We go back to a time that the man who would become Angel, then known as Andrew Savage graduated from the Ring Wars Training Grounds as one-half of the unbeaten TraG Tag Team Champions with Mike. Upon his graduation from the academy, Savage was set upon by two mysterious assailants, taken to an unknown location where unspeakable tortures were visited upon him.

Why this was done was unknown to him at the time. The very little that Savage can remember of this horrific event was the presence of a mysterious and beautiful woman, his only link to humanity and the only reason that he was able to cling onto his fractured sanity. Releasing him from the confines of his prison, the woman guided Savage to safety, providing him with only a name, the name of his tormentor McKnight.

And Savage swore furious vengeance upon his assailant.

Little did he know that fate was to play its first hand in a convoluted and terrible tale.

*****

"Welcome to MWEW Mr. Savage. I've heard good things about yourself and your tag team partner Mike."

At the time Posh had seemed to be a genuine and good-natured Commissioner. Time would soon show that to be nothing more than a facade and a lie, but for now we will concentrate merely on the facts at hand.

He continued with a wave of his hand.

"So, lets put that to the test. Your first match here in MWEW will be a tag team match. The two of you will face Mikey Holloway and his partner....Jamie McKnight."

He must have enjoyed seeing Savage's face blanch. He must have known what had happened. To send him, like a lamb to the slaughter into the hands of his tormentor was a terrible thing.

But deep inside there was a part of Savage, a dark and terrible part of him that revelled in the decision, that revelled at the chance at inflicting the same agony upon McKnight that he had upon him.

Of course it didn't work out that way.

*****

Savage lay in a pool of his own blood on the aisle as McKnight stood over him, smirking down at him with that hideous grin of his.

He tried to move but couldn't summon the strength to climb to his knees after the beating he had just taken. As it was, he looked powerlessly over towards the ring to see his tag team partner, Mike as his face was swallowed up by the mammoth hand of Mikey Holloway.

Lifting him up face first, Mike was slammed to the mat head first, not the first and certainly not the last victim of the devastating claw-like maneuever that Mikey Holloway used to finish off his opponents. Three seconds later the match was over, and Savage dreams of a glorious debut and revenge went up in smoke.

Little did Jamie McKnight realise though was the long-term implications of what he had wrought here. That in striking the first blow in a long and bitter war he would unleash a monster that could never be contained.

*****

We return to present day London.

Savage sat alone in a dark and dingy pub in the East End of London. The pub itself, called "The Blind Beggar" had garnered something of a notorious reputation amongst the people of London.

Reputed to have links with the notorious Kray Brothers, gangsters and murderers of history, it had no doubt seen its fair share of bloodshed and violence in its past.

The lights were dimmed and the air smoky from the various patrons that flagrantly ignored the smoking ban that had been imposed on establishments like this by the British Government. At the center of the room was the bar, overseen by the incredibly bored looking barman.

Savage liked it here. He liked the fact that it was so dark and rough. It seemed to match him personality-wise, and the other patrons had the sense to leave him be. Despite his current morose demeanour, there was still enough of an aura projected by his presence to cause others to sit up and take notice. Yet none were stupid enough to come over and attempt to pick a fight with him...perhaps the raw sense of violence that accompanied him deterred the troublemakers, sure that it would end badly for them.

All except for one person. The beautiful, blonde haired woman walked over, brash and arrogant, and sat with him. Wearing a loose fitting red top covering the belt line of her tight, black jeans, she had her legs crossed patiently, knee-length black boots coming halfway up her long legs.

Savage sighed.

"Haven't you got the message yet? And still you pursue me."

Sara smiled, her lips pursing together in a thin, red line.

"Its strange, Savage. I've never seen you rattled the way that you have been by the mention of this one person. Could McKnight be the chink in your otherwise indestructible armour? Could he be the one and only thing in this world that can actually get to you psychologically?"

A scowl crossed his features. Bringing his left arm across the table, he brushed the glass that contained his beverage in, sending its contents splashing across the floor and the glass shattering into a million thin shards.

"You presume too much. Nothing, or nobody has that sort of power over me."

She smiled as she sidled ever closer.

"But you lie Savage. You can lie to me but you can't deny the truth to yourself. McKnight is your achilles heel. I see it in your eyes. When I looked at you in the hospital and I mentioned his name, I saw the same expression in your eyes that you show now. I see fear Savage."

Savage laughed.

"We shall see Sara. We shall see."

*****

October 2003. As a ghoulish cage-like structure descended from the heavens, the mortal enemies Andrew Savage and Jamie McKnight stood at opposite sides of the ring....their furious war not yet settled.

But this time there was more at stake here than a personal conflict. Sitting at ringside was the MWEW World Title, and the winner would take the ultimate prize.

*****

We told a story that night that would live on in the legacy of the now-defunct MWEW for years to come.

The cage could not hold our fury, the walls ripped down in a contest that would redefine the definition of brutality. We shed blood that day, both of us. We visited upon each other terrible, terrible things that would scar both of us for an eternity.

There were things done, and actions taken that would bring upon us a new understanding of agony that neither of us had experienced before. This was a match that would change us....both of us, and send us tumbling towards a dark side that neither of us would ever escape from.

And there I executed my masterplan. I set into motion the events that would take all by surprise and win me my first World Heavyweight Title.

*****

Savage lay on his back, unconscious....a victim of McKnight's finishing move. Debris and blood lay in the center of the ring. The walls of the cage lay, smashed and broken, littered at ringside like so much trash.

Smiling, McKnight stalked his fallen prey, by his side, the referee of the match was Mr. Savage's estranged wife, placed in the contest by the crooked commissioner Posh to ensure that McKnight would walk away victorious.

An accomplice, she had helped McKnight throughout the contest, putting the big man down to allow him to come to this, the moment of his victory.

And here now, as McKnight prepared to make the cover, to seal the deal, the ultimate switch was perpetrated. Savage's wife spun McKnight around and, reaching beneath her shirt, smashed him over the head with a steel pipe she had concealed there.

As McKnight fell, eyes taking on a look of shock, she picked Savage's unconscious form up and draped his arm over McKnight.

She then dropped and registered a fast three count.

For the second time in his recent lifetime, Savage's wife, Raven picked him up, and rescued him from McKnight's clutches. Only this time he had a World Title to show for his efforts....

*****

"I've heard all the stories Savage, but one yet escapes me."

Sara pointed to the scar on his neck.

"I know he did that to you, and I know it almost cost you your life. Tell me Savage. Tell me how it happened...."

Savage looked down and his finger absently traced the faint white line.

The line that represented both his greatest victory and his most bitter defeat.....

But was he ready to relive the moment?

Savage looks back up at Sara as the camera fades black