Never piss off an sleeping monster

A thunderstorm cracks the area, the flash of lighting reveals a closed cemetery gate, as the rain pours continually the sounds of thunder continue to roll. Minutes feel like hours as the time passes by almost like sand flows through an hourglass, lightning slams down lighting the gate of the cemetery once more. The rain slaps the pavement making it sound like a baseball bat cracking a baseball into the stands, stumbling you make your way for dryer ground. The sounds of thunder crack again as the gate begins to open, at this opportunity you make haste.

Making your way though the twists and turns of the cemetery you seek shelter from this horrific storm, tripping you slide knee first on the paved roadway. Feeling as if your breath was almost kicked from your body you begin to raise to your feet, feeling the rain hit your body reminds you of pellets shot from a children’s BB gun. You continue to stumble down the path as the thunder and lightning continues to slap the earth around you.

Once again you slip and this time losing your footing you slide into a mound of dirty, struggling to get to your feet the lighting cracks around you once more revealing a disturbing site. You’ve managed to slide right into a fresh and open grave, the mound of dirt you current rest upon fresh as the storm you’re traveling in. The sound of booted feet can be heard slightly through the sounds of the rain, looking up you gasp, the horrible view of a shovel comes crashing down on you. Silent, the rain disappears, your vision blackens, and your body becomes numb.

Darkness…

The lightning cracks down on the open grave, the body laying motionless a man with long sopping wet hair covering his face he stands over it holding a shovel. His head is tilted to one side, his attire is horrifying, and he is shirtless, dressed in what looks to be prison overalls wrapped around his waist. The sleeves hang freely blowing in the cold harsh stormy wind, and from what can be seen tattoo’s roll up both is arms and meet across his chest. He stands there his head tilted to one side, almost if he is enjoying his handy work.

The lightning cracks again, this time flashing on the open grave stone, and again, this time the view is more focused on the stone itself. When the lightning cracks again it reveals the writing on the stone “Dan Alexander, forever his Darkest days.” :.

Kiss the ground you walk on savior, because someday someone will retire you forcefully.

.: A raspy voice creeps from the twisted man, his head remains tilted, and his eyes fixed on the unconscious being. :.

The Internet is a disease; it’s a plague that rots the minds of the youth, the common cold of the 21st century. The problem with the internet is the fact that it provides the world with false visions, false hope, and false reasons to believe in something that isn’t true. Such is the World Wide Web, and the massive amount of misinformation. Burry your idiotic minds behind some webpage’s of misinformation, your rumors fuel the conspiracy theories.

.: He begins to kneel down, seems to be checking the vital signs of the downed person, his eyes focus on the injured person his head continues to tilt the other way now as his fascination with the person seems to slowly decrease, almost like a feather on the wind he stands from his kneeling position. :.

Crimes against humanity, the serial killer… War brings the fear, as your minds begin to rot away. Panic as you may, but homicide is the true answer to this question. Broken bones, shattered glass, the Ridicule's reign will never last. Such is the issues of this business, you crave the attention, the upward climb, but when your there it’s a matter of time. Dan meet this once and forever will you remember the horrors you experience within the ring. I am not like the millions that have stood before you claiming they will be the end of you existence, I will not claim to have distain for you, I choose not to follow the flock of mindless sheep by saying I am the man who will end your careers, because quite frankly I could end your career at any moment. I don’t care who wins, who loses, and who even walks out of the arena that night, why you might ask, simply because something different never harmed anyone in a mass quantity.

.: The lightning crashes, the rain hammers all around him, with little to no effort he rolls the unconscious man into the open grave with his booted foot. He then takes his fist and places it into the palm of his hand and begins to crack his knuckles, repeating the process with his second hand. :.

Dan Your resume to me is simply a piece of paper, where you have been is just the road that brings you to where you are right now. I mean no ill respect to you puppet, we known not one another. But mark my words you are staring down the barrel of a loaded rifle and if the trigger is pulled it will make a fabulous mess, I have no issues attempting to strip the flesh from your unconscious body, nor do I have any problem stomping your brains in until you stop flopping around like a little guppy.

.: If a wide toothed smile could be seen on his wet hair covered face one would assume it could be seen now, he seems to enjoy the moniker of pain onto others. :.

Oh… what a lovely site that would be, the millions of fans witnessing an injustice to humanity. Would make for great reality television don’t you agree Mr. Alexander? As I mentioned earlier Mr. Alexander, I am not your friend but your enemy, I am just a man here to do a job, sadly standing between me and my job is you. And for that a bit of suffering maybe in order to pay the toll to the gate keeper, appease his wraith and live another day, be defiant and you may not make it out on your own accord. I am not an unreasonable man Mr. Alexander, unstable maybe, unreasonable no. I am fair when I choose to be, I will not ask you to not bothering showing for this meeting it’s simply a childish request, even a rookie mistake. But I do ask you this Mr. Alexander, bring everything to this meeting, bring your “A” game, bring the kitchen sink and even the sound truck, because for long as I have a pulse I will continue to mane and ravage. I will make your worst nightmares feel like fantasy dreams, I will first break your body and then your mind, I am like a broken clock, I tell no time. I will be the end of the line…

.: With his left hand he reaches up and places it directly on his left jaw, and with his right hand he places it behind his head on the right side, as the rain continues to pour down and with a swift motion of his hands he cracks his neck. As lightning begins to crash all around and the roll of thunder claps around him his evil guttural laughter can still be heard. His head tilts to the other side as his body spasms from the laughter. :.

Forgive me, the thought process of “norm” could never understand you or I, the fearful cattle that travel day to day fearful of the unknown, waiting for the “terminally ill” to upset their precious little balanced lives. It seems to me Dan Alexander is going to have one hell of a climb to make against Mac..

.: He reaches his left hand up near his face, extends his index finger and places it on his chin almost as if he is now thinking about something. He continues to hold his pause in speech, and then his raspy words slip his lips. :.

Hmm… Dan do you know what I am capable of? Do you know what is to come from this meeting? Can you handle the seer destructive force that is lying in limbo here? Valid questions or the ranting of a lunatic… HA! No one will ever know Dan, that’s the joy of being me. They say I am a few straws short of a bunch, and like you I am misunderstood, I am simply put… Me. And you are you, and the world is round… Believe me Dan, I want you to, seek your inner self and rely on instinct, I ask you to pray to the heavens for forgives for that matter, yet it makes no difference we are all just pawns in this little game of chess. I don't respect you Dan you have done nothing to prove it, I will cherish the damage I cause onto you, and I will in joy making you scream for your life.

.: Reaching into his pocket he draws a cigarette, lighting it he takes a haul from it. The pause as the smoke filled air stays in his lungs is breath taking; the rain continues to pound the fresh dirt all around him. :.

Dan the time draws near ever so close for you to Step into the Ring not With Death Angel but the Return of the Mad Man the Syco One the one and only Syco Angel the one person that ended Brenton Cyrus.

.: His head tilts to the right surveying the area around him the relentless storm doesn’t fail to disturbed the surrounding area. The winds a steady howl, the rain constantly beating the ground in a rhythmic tapping, and the rolling thunder continues to add to the harmonics of the storm. :.

An artist I will be, slowly breaking down the body of the men who stand before me, painting a picture in their bloody. Carnage is fitting for the industry don’t you think? Dan you will feel Pure Pain after all, motionless is the bodies, medics could be called, fans will not disappoint, for this is the beginning of an era, sadly though… Believing the rumors will only cause false hopes. Singapore… Singapore… allows the caning to begin little puppets. Singapore… Singapore… free from these chains of guilt.

.: He takes another drag of his cigarette, pauses to allow the smoke filled air to seep into his lungs and the another drag follows it. :.

Answer me this, what will you do Dan Alexander once you step into that ring with a man you can't kill.

.: As he takes another haul from his cigarette, he lets it slip from his fingers and it crashes to the mud soaked ground below. Uncontrollable laughter can be heard leaving his lungs as he turns and walks away. The lightning crashes down once again, this time causing haze, when the haze fades he is gone like a specter in the night. :.