Cavington Chronicles, Part III: Killbane

???: “We have a two-eleven in progress. Repeat, two-eleven at Cavington First Bank. Suspect identified as Killbane.”

I immediately snatch the radio from the car dashboard.

Chad Mason: “This is Inspector Chester Mason. We are on the way. Request backup immediately. All available cars to Cavington First Bank. Catch him alive.”

I set the radio down and turn to Miss Young, who drives. She smiles wide.

Jennifer Young: “We got him?”

I sit back in my seat, relieved.

Chad Mason: “We got him.”

We’d been chasing Killbane for nearly a week now. It wasn’t because he kept getting away…it was because he simply had not appeared on anyone’s radar in who knew how long. Now, he had finally shown his face…and they only had one chance to catch him. Young puts her foot on the gas, and we’re zipping down the streets, sirens blaring, many cars barely managing to get out of the way as we fly by.

Chad Mason: “Do you know anything about this guy?”

Jennifer Young: “I know he’s proven to be a thorn in Cavington Police’s side for a long time. Some people say he just can’t be caught. He’s a bit of a horror story to some. Sort of an icon to others. It depends on who you are, I suppose.”

Chad Mason: “An icon?”

Jennifer Young: “People love a champion. And the fact remains, that’s exactly how Killbane carries himself. He’s a champion.”

I nod. It didn’t really make sense to me…but I guess it’s something you have to see for yourself.

Chad Mason: “How far?”

Jennifer Young: “Just ahead.”

I look ahead, and see several cars pulling up in front of a large marble building. Officers scurry from their cars, all armed, pointing at the building. Jennifer pulls up behind them, and I quickly get out, racing towards the police line.

Officer Mayfield: “Inspector?”

I nod, looking up at the building.

Chad Mason: “What’s happening?”

Officer Mayfield: “Witness who called in says Killbane and his thugs attacked the bank, and have taken hostages. We’re not sure what he’s after.”

Chad Mason: “Money?”

Officer Mayfield: “Well, yes, that would be the obvious conclusion. Thing is, we’ve never had him rob a place before. It’s always kidnapping, or murder, or battery. Never seen robbery before.”

A nearby officer cautiously approaches the building, holding a megaphone.

Officer: “Come on out, Killbane! We’ve got the place surrounded! Release the hostages and come quietly!”

A long pause. Slowly, the front door opens. Several panicked people rush from the building, towards the police line.

Officer Mayfield: “…that was easy.”

Chad Mason: “Something’s not right.”

Nearby medical personnel immediately tend to the hostages, taking them to the ambulances for checkups. The officers look to each other, confused, then back to the building.

Officer Mayfield: “That shouldn’t have happened. Killbane isn’t the brightest bulb in the bunch…but even the most inept criminals know not to give away all their hostages right from the get-go…”

Chad Mason: “I don’t think it was about money.”

Officer Mayfield: “What, then?”

Chad Mason: “Well…if it was money, he’d have robbed the place, and there’d be some speedy getaway nearby. Any large vehicles? Trucks, vans, SUV’s, anything?”

Officer Mayfield: “Not that they found.”

Chad Mason: “And he immediately released all civilians…which means he’s not interested in negotiating…maybe because you have nothing he wants.”

Officer Mayfield: “So what is it?”

Men in SWAT uniforms slowly approach the front doors, armed and prepared to breach the bank. One of them silently begins to count, while the others prepare the battering ram.

One…

Two…

Three.

Just as the men are about to burst through the door, the massive wooden doors fly open, blasting the five men head over heels down the marble steps. All officers immediately aim their weapons.

???: “Wait!”

Officer Mayfield: “Civilian! Hold fire!”

A man slowly exit’s the building, his hands tied behind his back, and a black sack over his head. Behind him, two men holding assault rifles and wearing ski masks over their faces follow, their guns ready for action. Finally, bringing up the rear…Killbane himself. He’s a hulking individual. He had to be around seven feet tall, and by the looks of him, weighed close to the 400 pound mark. He is all-around massive, from a thick neck to wide shoulders to bulging biceps. He wears no shirt, revealing several scars and wounds from battles past. In fact, the only things Killbane seems to wear are black pants that stretch tight over muscular legs, and a green and black luchador mask which conceals his face. He has a massive Gatling gun slung over his back, with plenty of ammo crossing over his chest.

Officer Mayfield: “Let him go, Killbane!”

Killbane smirks, and hoists the gun off his back into his arms. He takes aim at Mayfield. I dive out of the way as he begins firing, peppering the car in front of Mayfield with bullets, as well as Mayfield himself. I hurry back to the car, where Jennifer cowers, despite being well out of the way of the bullets. I watch as Killbane opens fire on all the police in the vicinity, killing most of them, and causing carnage as he tears the vehicles apart. Finally, he stops, satisfied with his work. He turns back to his hostage, and shoves him down the steps. A large black and green van with Killbane’s mask design splashed across the hood pulls up, and two more armed thugs open the rear doors, allowing Killbane to shove the man into the back. He hops in the car, and slams the doors shut before the van squeals away.

Chad Mason: “Follow him.”

Jennifer Young: “Are you insane?”

Chad Mason: “We’ve come too far to lose him now. Follow him.”

Jennifer Young shakes her head, but starts the car, following the van.

Chad Mason: “Keep a car between us. I don’t want them to know we’re following him.”

She lets up a bit, and we follow the van through the streets of Cavington. Above, the sky slowly turns from a sunny blue to a dark grey. The thermometer in the car plummets. 80.…70.…30.…25.…10.…

Chad Mason: “Frost’s territory.”

Jennifer nods, shuddering.

Jennifer Young: “Word is that Killbane is on Frost’s payroll these days. It only makes sense that he’d come back here.”

Killbane doesn’t stop, however. He continues driving on, a massive plow on the front of his van powering through the ice and snow, pushing through the deepest parts of Frost’s part of the city. Eventually, we leave the sector, and find ourselves on a dirt road, heading through the outskirts of the city.

Chad Mason: “Where are you taking us?”

Jennifer watches the van head up the hills, kicking up dust behind it as it goes. Jennifer points ahead, towards the top of the hill.

Chad Mason: “What…”

A massive building sits, perched atop the hill. It’s made of stone, with pillars rising high above, casting a long shadow down the side of the hill. Killbane pulls up to it, and circles to the back.

Chad Mason: “Stop here.”

Jennifer Young: “We’re a ways off. He can’t see us.”

Chad Mason: “Just stay put.”

Killbane pulls the man from the van, pushing him up towards the building. Two men stand guard, armed with their own assault rifles. They salute Killbane as he approaches, and one of the men pokes the captive with the barrel of his gun. Killbane shoves the man into the building, and they disappear from sight. I grab Miss Young’s gun from the dashboard, sliding it into the band of my jeans before sliding out of the car and slowly making my way up the hill. The two men stand guard, watching down the hill for any signs of movement. I keep to the grass, slowly moving up the hill, hiding. Soon, I’m close.

‘Where next?’

I look for any other opening, but see none. There is a solid stone wall behind the pillars, except for one archway, which is guarded. I grab a rock from the ground, and sneak behind one of the pillars. The guards stand, keeping their gaze locked on the road leading down towards the city. I take careful aim, and hurl the rock. It soars over the guards’ heads, and smashes through the window of Killbane’s van.

Guard: “Fucking Christ!”

The two guards look to the van, and quickly grab their weapons, moving towards the vehicle. I steal the opportunity, and slip into the building. Immediately, I hear the sound of faint cheering, and booming music. I look around. Despite the ancient looking appearance from outside, the building is surprisingly modern. The floors are clean and white, and lighting fixtures run along the ceiling. A doorway sits across the entrance to the building, with two large signs above it. The first reads simply:

“To the Arena”

The second, more ominous.

“Hall of Blood”

I look around for any other direction to take. Not seeing any, I step into the room. It’s a long hallway, lined with portraits. Each one depicts someone, often with a look of anger or fear on their face. Below, a small golden plate tells the names of the victims they depict. I glance at a few of the names as I pass. Broderick McLeod, “Crash.” Jasper Stoneclaw, “Gargoyle.” Eric Beck, “The Edge.” Giovanni Corelli, “Snake Eyes.”

Chad Mason: “Well…that solves that mystery…”

I move down to the final door. The cheers are louder. I slowly open the door at the end of the hallway.

Chad Mason: “Whoa.”

It’s an arena. A massive arena. The door opens into the midway point of the seating sections, with the floor of the arena itself dig into a large pit below. The pit has several spotlights that shine, illuminating the entirety of the arena. Above, a massive jumbotron shows the action. A few pillars stand erect in the arena, as do a few stone walls, and a number of other obstacles. Two large gates stand at opposite sides, giving the pit the appearance of an old Roman coliseum. In a massive seat above one gate sits Killbane himself, looking down at the action. He stands, looking around at the people. I quickly hide away, behind a corner near the door. Killbane reaches up, grabbing a microphone that hangs overhead.

Killbane: “Ladies and Gentlemen…Tonight, I have a real treat for you. Today, Killbane has rounded up a real challenge. A true competitor. One who, if I might be so bold, has a chance to do the impossible. One who has the opportunity to best some of my finest gladiators.”

The crowd boos furiously.

Killbane: “Ladies and gentlemen…tonight, I have hand-selected one of our finest men to step up against one of Cavington’s beloved characters…I give to you…..Eviscerator!”

He crowd cheers wildly as the gate below Killbane opens. A thin man walks out from behind the fence, his arms buried in long sleeves. I raise my eyebrow. He didn’t seem threatening in the slightest. A man in a shirt several sizes too big, doing nothing but stare at the ground. Yet, the crowd cheers madly while Eviscerator stands motionless, staring at the ground. I stare at the screen as the camera gets a closeup of his face. He mumbles things under his breath, though I can’t tell exactly what it is.

Killbane: “And now, introducing the challenger tonight. He is responsible for the imprisonment of half of the Black Dragon Clan…but behind the mask, he’s a fraud. A lowly banker by the name of Jason Hawk…He claims to be one of the greatest heroes Cavington has ever seen…put your hands together for…ASGARD!”

The opposite gate opens, and Killbane’s hostage steps into the pit. He wears a Viking helmet that conceals his eyes, with silver wings protruding from the sides of the golden cap. A fur cape flaps behind him. He slowly adjusts his gauntlets and the fur pants he wears.

Killbane: “Let the battle begin.”

Asgard looks at Eviscerator, who still has not moved from his spot. Asgard cautiously takes a step forward. Eviscerator’s head snaps up, and he stares Asgard in the eyes, giving full view of his face. Eviscerator has a long scar that runs down the left side of his face, cutting straight through his eye. There are numerous cuts and scars across his face, and a chunk of his ear and nose is missing. Slowly, Eviscerator shrugs his shoulders, allowing his oversized shirt to fall away into a neat clump at his ankles. Eviscerator slowly raises his arms…or what used to be his arms. His hands have been amputated, and replaced with long blades, which had been hidden beneath the sleeves of his shirt. Eviscerator swings his arms slowly, getting a feel for his sharpened appendages. Asgard immediately takes a step back. Eviscerator runs forward, swinging his arms madly, and screaming like a maniac. Asgard raises his arms, trying to block the attacks with his wristbands. For a while, it works, the leather providing just enough protection from the swinging blades. Finally, though, Eviscerator swings, and slices straight through the leather, straight through Asgard’s flesh, leaving a splatter of blood across Eviscerator’s pale skin. The crowd cheers wildly.

“Slice and Dice!” “Slice and Dice!” “Slice and Dice!”

Eviscerator swings his arm again, and Asgard barely manages to avoid the shot as the blade grazes his stomach. Asgard sends a kick to Eviscerator’s chest, sending the frail man stumbling back. Asgard leaps into the air, flying high above Eviscerator’s head, and circling the pit a few times. He slowly descends, landing atop one of the pillars, and wraps his gauntlet tighter around his wounded wrist, cutting off blood flow. He grimaces in pain. Below, Eviscerator leaps up, trying to reach Asgard, but not even coming close. Asgard smirks, watching as Eviscerator repeatedly fails to reach him, missing the mark by a good several feet. He breathes heavily, grunting and panting under his breath. Finally, he looks at his hands, and smirks. He digs the blade into the stone, using it to pull himself up the pillar before digging his other arm higher up. He uses the blades as picks, climbing, slowly but surely, up the pillar. Above him, Asgard shakes his head in disbelief. He looks for an exit. Eviscerator reaches up, swinging his arm, and leaving a long tear in Asgard’s cape. Asgard jumps as Eviscerator swings again, the blade barely missing his ankles. Asgard waits for Eviscerator to take another swipe. Eviscerator swings a third time, and Asgard stomps down, pinning the blade to the top of the pillar. Eviscerator roars in pain, and Asgard plants his free foot on Eviscerator’s face. He kicks hard, and steps off the arm. Eviscerator falls, twenty feet from the top of the pillar. He throws out his arms to break the fall.

“Oooooh!”

A sickening crunch and the crowd’s collective groan, and Asgard peers over the pillar. Eviscerator lies, blood pooling around his body and soaking into the dirt. One of his arms pokes straight through his back, having impaled him through the stomach. Eviscerator gurgles a few times, spitting up blood before finally dropping, and ceasing to move.

Killbane: “Well, isn’t this a surprise!”

Asgard hops from the pillar, landing softly on the ground, and looking at the fallen enemy as he passes.

Killbane: “Eviscerator has been defeated…well done, Asgard.”

Asgard stares at Killbane, gritting his teeth.

Killbane: “I suppose I should offer you your freedom. You won, after all.”

Asgard turns to head for the gate, which doesn’t open. Killbane stands from his seat, shedding the heavy coat he wears. He vaults over the railing, landing with a heavy thud behind Asgard. Asgard turns to see Killbane charge him. He tries to fly out of the way, but Killbane manages to grab hold of Asgard’s ankle. Asgard kicks frantically, trying to escape. Killbane roars, and pulls Asgard down, throwing him to a ruined wall. The wall fails to stop Asgard, who crashes straight through the bricks before rolling to a stop in the dirt.

Killbane: “Time for round two, Viking!”

Killbane approaches Asgard, lifting him by the throat. He slams Asgard into a pillar, cocking his fist back. He throws a punch, but at the last moment, Asgard wriggles free of Killbane’s grasp. Killbane’s fist drives into the pillar, taking a chunk of the stone out of it. Killbane turns to see Asgard swoop down, lifting Killbane off his feet, carrying him high above the coliseum. He drops Killbane, then zips down, tackling Killbane to the gut, speeding his descent to the ground below. Killbane wrestling with Asgard in midair, and finally manages to get the upper hand. The two hit the ground hard, Killbane using Asgard to cushion the blow. Dust flies in every direction, shrouding the battle in a cloud of dirt and debris.

Slowly, the dust settles…showing Killbane, getting to his feet. He The crowd cheers wildly as he lifts Asgard by the throat. He throws Asgard towards the gate, which bends as he hits it. Killbane charges as Asgard struggles to his feet, and sends a hard shoulder block, sending Asgard airborne again. Asgard hit’s the ground, struggling to get to a vertical base. Killbane moves towards him with frightening speed, lifting Asgard once again. He drives his fist into Asgard’s stomach, then again to his jaw. He lifts Asgard above his head in a military press, then brings him down across his knee. Asgard’s back bends at an unnatural angle, and he rolls to the ground, not moving. The pained and horrified expression on his face tells me Asgard is still conscious…but his back is broken, and he’s been left paralyzed.

Killbane holds his hands out to the sides. All around, the audience gives their enthusiastic thumbs down. Killbane grins, and grabs Asgard by the cape, draggin him towards the fallen Eviscerator. Killbane grabs Eviscerator’s free arm, and plants his boot on Eviscerator’s back before pulling at the arm, severing the blade from the flesh. He stands in the center of the arena, looking around at the audience.

“Killbane!” “Killbane!” “Killbane!” “Killbane!”

Killbane lifts the blade in one hand, and lifts Asgard by the throat with the other. He plunges the blade into Asgard’s back, cutting down his spine. Asgard screams, flailing his arms, trying to break free. Killbane tosses the blde aside throws Asgard to the ground. Killbane plants Asgard, face-first, into the dirt as he digs his hands into the fresh wound in Asgard’s back. With a sick crunch, he tears the ribcage apart, blood spraying across Killbane’s chest and arms. Killbane slowly reaches into the open wound, and carefully removes the lungs, which collapse in on themselves. Asgard sputters and gasps for a brief moment, then ceases to move entirely, and the lungs stop struggling. Killbane raises Asgard’s lungs high above his head with a roar, which the crowd delightfully cheers on. Killbane rests the lungs on Asgard’s back. I cringe, looking away from the scene as Killbane gets to his feet, raising his blood-stained fists in victory.

“Killbane!” “Killbane!” “Killbane!” “Killbane!”

I quickly slide out of the arena area, running back down the hallway, looking for any other path. I spot a small door branching off in the Hall of Blood, and slip inside. Another hallway. I run, and take a sharp right at the end of the hallway. I follow the winding paths, my instinct acting as my guide as I navigate the building. Finally, I come to a stop. Ahead, a massive door with Killbane’s mask design engraved into the wood. I slowly walk up to it. No security. No guards. Nothing. I rest my hand on the grip of the gun, and kick the door in, drawing the weapon. I lower it upon realizing that there is only one man in the room: Killbane, sitting at a desk, his back turned.

Chad Mason: “You’re a difficult man to find, Mr. Hemming.”

Killbane turns calmly in chair, looking at me.

Killbane: “Call me Killbane.”

I step into the room, looking around as I slowly approach Killbane.

Chad Mason: “Not much security here.”

Killbane: “I don’t need it.”

I look at him. Even sitting down, he isn’t much shorter than I am. I raise the gun, pointing it between his eyes.

Chad Mason: “You know I could kill you right now if I wanted to.”

Killbane stands at full height, and I get an appreciation for exactly how big the man truly was. I crane my neck to look him in the eye, my gun still pointed to his forehead.

Killbane: “No…you couldn’t.”

He steps forward, and instinctively, I take a step away. Killbane circles around his office, stopping at a mini-fridge, and taking a bottle of old whiskey from it.

Killbane: “So, Inspector. What brings you out to my coliseum. Come to enjoy the show?”

He pours himself a drink, and pulls out a second glass.

Killbane: “Drink?”

Chad Mason: “I’m fine.”

Killbane: “Suit yourself.”

Chad Mason: “You killed that man.”

Killbane laughs.

Killbane: “Asgard? You’re damn right I did. And it was beautiful, wasn’t it? And Eviscerator! Beaten! I can’t say I saw that coming.”

Chad Mason: “Why did you do it? Revenge?”

Killbane: “What, you think I killed him to avenge Eviscerator? Nah. He was insane. Totally out of his mind. You know he spent ten years rotting in Cavington Institute? He lost his arms in a fight with Asgard. I broke him out of the Institute. At the time, I was working with The Edge. He helped to create his new arms…and what a weapon he turned out to be. Eviscerator…good guy, usually. Crazier than a shithouse rat…but a good guy when he was with his friends. We’ll miss him, I’m sure.”

He takes a seat, and lifts his mask just enough to expose his mouth, so that he can drink from his glass.

Killbane: “Good stuff. You can sit down if you like.”

Killbane seemed eerily calm. The monstrous brute who had mutilated Asgard now sat, just a few feet away from me. He was unarmed, and unguarded…while I stood with a gun in my hand, which I could put in his head at point blank range at any moment…and yet, he sat there, drinking, his eyes locked on me behind his mask.

Killbane: “You have nothing I want, and therefore, you have nothing to fear. Go ahead. Sit.”

I cautiously take a seat. Killbane looks me over.

Killbane: “You’re a detective.”

I nod slowly.

Chad Mason: “Private Investigator.”

Killbane: “You’re not here to arrest me, or you’d have brought backup.”

Chad Mason: “I was told you may be able to help me.”

Killbane: “That right?”

Chad Mason: “I’m on the hunt for a man known as Kryptic.”

Killbane stops drinking, and slowly sets his glass down on the desk. He leans back in his seat, looking at me.

Killbane: “And what would you want with a guy like that?”

Chad Mason: “I have my reasons. Mr. Eastwick told me you might be able to help.”

Killbane: “Shocker? He’s an idiot. He went and blew his face to shit, and he blames the entire world for it. You know why he’s like that? Because he got careless. And eventually, his recklessness caught up to him. Then, boom. No more Shocker. He’s been pissing his life away in the Institute for years.”

Chad Mason: “But he had a motive to kill Kryptic. He says he didn’t do it.”

Killbane: “He wouldn’t have been able to even if he wanted to. Shocker’s a fool. Kryptic was a genius. Shocker was careless, stupid, and had a sense of pride that eventually screwed him over. Kryptic was brilliant, meticulous…everything Shocker wasn’t, and in every way, Shocker’s superior.”

Chad Mason: “So who killed him?”

Killbane: “I think he’s still out there.”

Chad Mason: “You’re saying you don’t know what happened to him?”

Killbane: “By the time Kryptic disappeared, I was getting paid twice as much working for Snake Eyes. And since Snake Eyes and Kryptic were out of each other’s way, there was no power struggle. Kryptic was none of my concern, and therefore, I didn’t really care what happened to him.”

Chad Mason: “You have a reputation for the men you work for winding up dead. You have portraits in your Hall of Blood depicting those same bosses. They were your victims, weren’t they?”

Killbane laughs.

Killbane: “Well I’ll be damned, the detective figured it out after all! Quite the operation, ain’t it?”

Chad Mason: “You work for them, earn their trust…then kill them?”

Killbane: “Well, that sounds a bit barbaric when you put it that way…but yes, at the most basic, that’s how I ran things.”

Chad Mason: “Why?”

Killbane stands, circling around to a window, which overlooks the arena below. He stares down at the bloodstained sand, and then looks up, over the walls of the coliseum, at the grand city sitting on the horizon.

Killbane: “The Romans believed that if you bested a man in battle, you took all their honor, and all their power, under your hand. There was no honor beating opponents weaker than yourself. But to beat someone stronger than you…to go up against someone you shouldn’t be able to beat…that is a feat. That is something people will remember you for.”

He looks back.

Killbane: “All the greatest bosses of this city wanted me to work for them. Guys like Snake Eyes, like Senator Monroe, like Killer Crow…those guys were bound by one similarity, one commonality between each and every one of them. Power. During their respective runs, they all exercised some level of power over this city. Eventually, they all fell. And like the Romans…I took for myself the spoils of war. I defeated them in battle, and in doing so, I took their power for myself.”

Chad Mason: “And yet, you’re still hired help.”

Killbane shakes his head.

Killbane: “There will always be someone there to take what you have. There’s always some lesser man, trying to claw his way up the ranks. Trying to take the power you have, just as you took someone else’s. It’s an endless cycle of war.”

Chad Mason: “Why the theatrics? Why the coliseum?”

Killbane: “You’ll find that there are two kinds of people in this city. The generals, and the warriors. People like Frost…sure they’re powerful…but they don’t fight head-on. They choose to have their foot soldiers do the work. They have their hired thugs, and they have them do the dirty work. But people like me? I’m a warrior. I fight you, one on one, and may the best man walk out the victor. You saw it with Asgard earlier tonight. He beat Eviscerator…he was the better man. I beat Asgard. I rid the town of another useless, self-proclaimed hero of Cavington, and added another notch to my resume.”

Chad Mason: “You think that changes anything? Regardless of the work you think you’re doing…you’re always someone’s hired thug. You’re the muscle for every big-time crook’s operation. Outside this little arena of yours, your power and prestige means nothing.”

Killbane growls, and turns, grabbing his chair and flipping it. The chair hurtles over the table, and I manage to get out of the way before it crashes into the wal behind me.

Killbane: “It means everything! The thing that Monroe never understood about this town is that money means nothing. Luxuries mean nothing. Political position means nothing. The only thing that keeps Cavington sustained is power. Power through conquest. Power through fear. Power through battle.”

Killbane looks back out the window, staring at Cavington out in the distance.

Killbane: “People will tell you otherwise. People will tell you that I’m just big guns and bigger muscles. And yet, I’ve destroyed more criminals than Redentor ever did. I’ve slain more heroes than Frost could ever dream. I have established myself as the most dominant force this town has ever seen. Eventually people will come to realize that. Cavington is my city…I am its warrior. I am its king. I am its Caesar…and I will fiddle while it burns.”

He stares at the ground, keeping his back turned to me.

Killbane: “Get out.”

I stare at him.

Chad Mason: “But Kryptic-”

Killbane: “I told you before, I don’t know where you’d find him. If you want my solution, hunt down Masterpiece. When I worked under him, he constantly arranged meetings between himself and Masterpiece. From time to time, he had me make exchanges with her for him. The two of them had some sort of deal going on. If you want to get closer to Kryptic, she might have something for you.”

Chad Mason: “Where would I find her?”

Killbane: “Search Cavington Art Museum. Look for Ashley Borden. Tell her Kill-….tell her Craig sent you.”

I nod, and slowly back out of the room.
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Chad Mason: “The question I have on my mind as I walk into this match…

When I win it, will it be an upset?

It seems everybody and their dog has said the same thing about me as the weeks have gone on. Chad is nothing. Chad is weak. Chad can’t win a match…Surely, then, someone like Steel Angel…Steel, who won the New Blood Championship…Steel who is the current IWF Champion…Steel, a former briefcase holder…should have no problems beating me? When I win at Ragnarok, and walk out as the IWF Champion…will anyone be surprised.

And yet, despite Steel’s successes in the ring, I can’t help but think nobody will be remotely surprised when I win. Why is that, you might ask?

Because I have every advantage.

I have outsmarted Steel at every turn. For the past month, I’ve beaten and humiliated him until there is simply nothing left for Steel to hold against me. He has a championship, which I won for him. He got a shot at that belt with the briefcase that he conveniently didn’t win the tournament to obtain. Me, on the other hand…in my last eight matches in IWF, I’ve won six of them. Which ones did I lose, you ask? A meaningless tag match the week after winning the briefcase, and that infamous match where I lost the briefcase to Steel Angel. The only victory Steel can hold over me, and it was so trivial, because at the end of the day…I still came out on top.

Tell me, is there anyone in IWF who would like to contest that? Steel won that briefcase from me…then held onto it right up until Isolation. What happened at Isolation? I beat up his opponent, and he capitalized. I want you all to think about that for a moment. I beat James Shark. I took the man out of IWF. Your precious IWF Champion, and it was my doing that took him out of action. And yet, here we are, and Steel Angel is the IWF Champion…despite his challenger being the one who beat the champion.

Very well. This week, Steel, I’m righting the wrongs. I’m taking what I should have had a long time ago. I beat the IWF Champion…and you stole the title. Fine. Now, though…you’re forced to fight me. Again. You’re fighting the man who handed you your first world title reign. I ruined it. You were so adamant on beating the champion yourself, and being seen as a legitimate threat. You have me to thank because you couldn’t even manage that.

I, on the other hand…I will have defeated not one, but two IWF Champions before I finally get my hands on that belt…and one of them will be this week, in a one on one match. That’s the beauty of it all, Steel. Your win was tainted. But mine? Mine will be in front of millions of people, watching me step into the ring…into the cage…to take you on…

And then walk out victorious. Another clean victory over you. One more match, Steel, and it’s all over. Your Cinderella story with the IWF title will be only a painful memory in the IWF record books.

And the funniest part of it all? You’ve trapped yourself in some delusion where you don’t think you can lose. You’ve put all your eggs in one basket, and that basket is clearly labeled ‘Nobody Loses to Chad Mason.’

Forgive me for going in and stomping all your little eggs to shit, Steel. Because contrary to what you might think, the fact that I’ve lost every match in the early part of my career…that means nothing. What matters is what’s happening right now. What’s been happening for the past month. Do you know what that is, Steel?

Chad Mason has become unstoppable.

Tell yourself otherwise, Steel. Jump on the ‘Chad is a Failure’ bandwagon. I laugh at people like you. People who are so blind to what is going on in the world around them. People who are so set in their convictions, they will completely disregard visible, observable facts and logic that disprove everything they believe. You think I’m a failure? Look at the path of destruction I’ve left over the course of the last month. You want to continue convincing yourselves that I’m no threat, that there’s nothing for you to worry about?

Allow me to open your eyes.

This week, Steel, I finish the job I started at Isolation. I will bring your whole world crashing down like the walls of fucking Jericho. And when I do…who will save IWF then? Who will be the beloved hero that IWF needs to stop the ‘evil Chad Mason and his evil cronies?’ But, more importantly, Steel…

Who will save you?”