Chad Mason [vs] Ruby Winters

February 20, 2012
Chicago, Illinois
Sacred Springs Cemetery

Jennifer Young: "I don't like being here."

I shine my flashlight ahead, illuminating the ground.

Chad Mason: "We won't be here long."

Jennifer Young: "You couldn't have done this during the day?"

Chad Mason: "The ground will harden up overnight. The longer we wait, the more difficult it's going to be."

Jennifer Young: "I hardly think it's going to do much in the next few hours."

Chad Mason: "I need to know."

We continue walking, my light shining across different headstones. I hold the light in one hand, and a shovel in the other, turned upside down so that the spade sticks in the air, and I can use the handle as a walking stick. We move quietly, avoiding the graves and stones as we go. The graveyard looked a lot different at night. Part of me agreed with Jenny...there was something inherently spooky about the place. But we were here for a reason, and I intended to see it through to the end.

My flashlight comes across a headstone, and I stop, staring down at the freshly dug earth. My eyes run across the engraved stone that marks the grave.

"Charles Brian Matthews
May 17, 1985 - February 18, 2012
Brother. Father. Friend."

Jennifer Young: "I can't believe you're about to do this...

I frown, and grip the shovel in my hand.

Chad Mason: "Hold the light."

I hand the flashlight to Jenny, who groans, and shines it on the grave. I slowly begin digging, moving the dirt from the hole. It was easier than I had expected. The ground was still freshly dug and soft from the funeral earlier today. I toss the dirt aside, burrowing deeper into the grave....until I heard a satisfying clunk of the shovel hitting wood.

Chad Mason: "Found it."

Jennifer Young: "About fucking time. Hurry up, the sun is starting to rise."

I dig away the dirt until I'm able to open the top half of the split-lid coffin. There he is. Chuck Matthews, lying beneath a pane of glass, just as he was in the funeral home earlier that day.

Jennifer Young: "See? He's dead. Still. Now let's go."

I stare at Chuck for a moment. I don't know what I had expected, really. I had stood there and watched him lowered into the grave. I had seen the procession. I had been at the funeral...how could he have possibly escaped? Maybe he really was dead...

Chad Mason: "Something isn't right here..."

Jennifer Young: "Will you stop saying that? Why is this so hard for you to accept? He's dead. His body is right fucking there. Give up this weird crusade of yours. Chuck is gone, Chad...there's nothing left to investigate...nothing to see. Let's go back."

Chad Mason: "Hold on..."

I stare at the coffin for a moment. I slowly raise the shovel, and before Jenny can stop me, I bring the handle smashing into the glass, shattering it.

Jennifer Young: "Are you insane?!"

I pull the body from the coffin, dragging it up out of the grave and laying it on the ground above. The body is cold to the touch, and there's something strange to it...something that didn't feel quite right.

Chad Mason: "Feel it. Something is strange about the body."

Jennifer Young: "Yeah, maybe because it's a DEAD BODY."

Chad Mason: "Seriously, touch it."

Jennifer Young: "No."

I stare at it. I had seen pictures of bodies before...but there was something surreal about this one. Maybe it was because I knew the person...but there was something else.

Chad Mason: "Look at his arm."

Jennifer Young: "What about it?"

I point at Chuck's right arm. It's bent at an unnatural angle. It didn't appear broken. Rather, the arm curved, as though there were no bones in it at all. I slowly grab the wrist, bending it.

Chad Mason: "He has no bones in his hand."

Jennifer Young: "What?"

I turn the hand over, looking at the back. What appeared to be finger bones and rigidity in his hand was in fact a hard layer of...something just beneath the skin in the back of his hand. There were no finger bones. No wrist joint...nothing. I stand up, grabbing the shovel.

Jennifer Young: "What are you doing?"

I take a deep breath, and raise the shovel before spiking it into Chuck's throat. The shovel runs straight through, lopping the head clean off. Jennifer screams.

Jennifer Young: "WHAT THE FUCK, CHAD?!"

I kneel next to the body. No bones.

Jennifer Young: "I'm gonna be sick..."

Jenny gags a few times, and dry heaves. I ignore her as she steps away. Blood oozes from the wound in the body. I run my fingers through the puddle forming on the ground. It's sticky, but there's a feel to it like jelly...something different from normal blood. I smell it.

Chad Mason: "Jenny!"

I look back at her. She shakes her head. I stand, my fingers still soaked in the stuff.

Chad Mason: "This isn't real blood. It's some sort of petroleum jelly or something. Thick enough to make the body look stiff, but thin enough for someone to pose the body."

Jennifer Young: "So...it's a fake?"

Chad Mason: "It would certainly seem that way."

Jennifer Young: "Are you sure?"

Chad Mason: "Unless you can think of a way to remove all bones and internal organs from a body, then yeah. I'm sure."

Jennifer Young: "So...where did the decoy come from?"

Chad Mason: "I don't know...I'm going to take the body home and examine it. Maybe get some sort of lead."

Jennifer Young: "So...you were right. Chuck has to be alive then. Or at least, his body is somewhere else."

Chad Mason: "I think he's alive. I think he staged this whole thing. It's too perfectly executed."

Jennifer Young: "So what next?"

I look at the my hand, still smeared with the fake blood.

Chad Mason: "We figure out where this body came from."

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Chad Mason: "Ruby, my dear...welcome to Round Two of the Battle for the Briefcase Tournament.

A tournament that I myself have been a part of on two separate occasions. The first time, I went to the finals, and lost to Ruben Ricardo Leon...and the second time, I won the whole damn thing.

This time...I'm going to repeat my performance, and I'm going to become not only the first man to win the briefcase twice...but I'm going to use it to take back what is rightfully mine: The IWF Championship.

And you, my lovely Natural Law comrade, are going to help me in this endeavor. Last week, I had Beno walk out on your match. I pulled the strings. I looked out for my fellow Natural Law friends, and I ensured that you would walk out as the victor.

Now that we're here in the second round, it's time you return the favor. Make this easy on yourself, Rubes. Throw the match. Send me on to the semi-finals, where I will continue my path back to the top. Lay down. Give me this victory.

Or...you can fight back...and if you do, I will not hesitate to show you why I am the leader of Natural Law. No matter how you slice it, I'm walking out this week with the victory, and the coveted spot in the final four.

I don't want to hurt you, Ruby. I think it would be better for both of us to simply stick to my master plan. You don't want me to hurt that pretty face of yours, do you? But you know if it comes down to it...I have no problem hurting you to get what I'm after. Just as I have no problem hurting any of my opponents.

So what's the call, Ruby? This is your test, my dear. Exactly how far are you willing to go for the good of Natural Law? Will you challenge the leader? Will you accept the loss, knowing that I will always provide for those who are loyal to me? Or will you fight? Will you try your luck, try and wrest power from me...only to inevitably fail, and show the world why I'M the one in charge here?

I think you'll make the wise decision, Ruby. Don't disappoint me."