The Champion in a bad mess

The Camera open's up to music playing.

Warren - IT'S... FROST!!!!!!

[Frost comes vaulting down to ringside to the adulation of the fans as Jack Money spins around in surprise. All at once she comes hurtling in with a flying dropkick, smashing the stop sign straight back into Jack Money's face, those characteristic shades exploding as he falls to the concrete in shock!]

Warren - She did it! She's saved Death Angel!!!

[Money rolls out of harm's way, slowly backing up the ramp with an evil smile, his eyes now revealed as they pierce into the heart of Angel's surprise saviour, while Frost stands between him and the wobbling Angel.]

Driver - I guess this is her answer on whether she would join Faction Elite Eight or not!!

[Death Angel suddenly slumps over, the adrenalin no longer able to sustain him, and quickly Frost catches him, trying her hardest to hold Death Angel up as Jack Money disappears from view. Getting up, Violet begins to run down the ramp, concern in her eyes, but just then Frost leans in and plunges lips first and KISSES DEATH ANGEL ON THE MOUTH!!]

Warren - WHOA!!!

Driver - She really does want to be in Faction Elite Eight!!!

Warren - That was a totally unexpected moment right there!! I guess those rumours are true!!

[Angel recoils in shock, but is too injured to fight her off as she continues to kiss him, her hands running up through the hair on the back of his head; just then Violet looks up, spotting them both, her eyes filled with a sudden sadness at the sight. She looks jealous. Distraught. Quickly Frost pulls away, herself surprised by her own actions as she turns to face where Angel is staring...]

Warren - Violet doesn't look happy...

Driver - But she's a lesbian; why would she be jealous of Death Angel being kissed by Frost... oh I see...

[Slowing down, Violet walks closer as Angel struggles to stay on his feet, Frost, looking ashamed, helping him along towards the OSW Secretary. Violet grabs a hold of Angel on the other side, her eyes never leaving Frost as both women begin to help the severely injured OSW Champion up the ramp, the fans still going nuts.]

Warren - I don't know what sort of love triangle is going on there but I do know that OSW Champion Death Angel is in a world of hurt right now, and at EYE OF THE STORM, he gets to meet the person who put him there...

Driver - That's if he can compete with a broken wrist...

Warren - That's right... This has been me, Warren , and my partner Driver...

Driver - And this was OSW Wreckage...

Warren - See you next time at our TWO YEAR ANNIVERSARY PAY PER VIEW, EYE OF THE STORM!!!

[Fade to black...]


***************************************************


Excruciating.

The pain almost unbearable.

It was by no means a clean break...

Death Angel howled as they moved closer towards the curtains to the back, shaking the very earth to ruin with his deep, reverberating scream of searing, unquestioning, agony...

Or at least it felt like he howled and shook the world...

In reality, he released nothing more than a low whimper which hardly registered on anyone around him as he was led out of the Arena and through curtains to the heavily populated back, hopefully towards an awaiting ambulance, and hopefully to salvation beyond it from this uncomfortable agony that wracked him so vehemently, threatening to engulf his senses completely.

Angel's wrist was broken; almost shattered into a thousand pieces, the pain taking over every single part of his anatomy, radiating outwards, courtesy of one opportunistic individual, who had targeted Angel as the focal point of his aggression...

Jack Money...

He'd pay. He'd pay dearly, and at Eye of the Storm, Death Angel would destroy him!

But for now he was still reeling from suffering such a hellacious beat down.

Angel was not stripped of life but of vitality by this foul attack, his body no longer able to function properly through the agony. It was a pain was so severe, so excruciating, that even someone as resilient as Death Angel found the most simple of tasks, such as walking, too much of a burden to bare, all but paralysing him with every step, forcing him to almost hop.

If only his pride hadn't forced him to refuse that gurney...

He couldn't let Jack Money affect upon him that little indignity; Angel was never one to be wheeled out of any arena after a match. Always, it had to be on his own two feet, although at that moment it was hardly on his own power as he found even his head too heavy to hold up without external support.

Seemingly lifeless, it drooped downwards and lolled on his chest from the pain.

Instead of walking unaided, Death Angel had help for the seemingly eternal trip under each arm, propping him upright as they walked him onwards; two beautiful women, each different from the other but equally attractive and complex.

Under one arm, Violet: dark, intelligent, vibrant, feisty. She always was thinking ahead, always had something to say. She was the love of Angel's life but also she represented his biggest defeat, because in that love Angel knew he could never have her...

Under the other arm, Frost: bright, exuberant, shy, hopeful. She was the one least likely, and yet she in one fell swoop was able to show Death Angel more compassion, more physical interaction than he'd known in so long. She was a revelation...

Deep down Angel could feel something was going on between them both but he wasn't sure what, and truth be told at that moment in time he couldn't even care less; the pain had robbed him of his humanity for the time being, leaving him nothing but a whimpering, almost salivating beast in need of help just to walk.

Help just to breath!

For a moment the world seemed to just fall away as another wave of throbbing pain hit him, and with it Violet disappeared into a crowd of OSW Aides, a cell phone shoved almost into her face as she glanced back worriedly at both Angel and the object of her own affections, now the sole helper in Death Angel's quest to make it on two tortured feet.

Frost was still with him...

That beautiful goddess who, only moments ago, did something that surprised him, while at the same time shaking him to his very core.

All with a simple kiss that made him question himself and his future...

However the pain overrode any such feelings, leaving him to limp on without the added help of Violet. Angel struggled to stay upright, the pain from his wrist not the only thing dragging him down, but all at once he spotted someone, sat by one of the refreshments tables, a beer in his hand, a smug look about him.

Daniel...

Death Angel could never let someone like him see the Champ in such tatters...

Like easy prey...

Frost shook as she shouted something into the din of the populated hallway, Angel struggling to hear her words over the throbbing between his own ears; his match had really taken it out of him.

Before them both Daniel stood up, cranium catching the light as he rose to his full height, two inches taller than Death Angel before him. He bore a cocky expression as he answered Frost's obviously derogatory, though unheard, comment.

"Wasn't my business" he smirked, eyes glinting with inner arrogance, "I'm not a part of your little group, am I? Why should I have a reason to help you out?"

It was true.

Earlier in the night Daniel had offered his services to a less than receptive Angel.

My how things had changed since then...

Angel knew that this man, this arrogant martial artist, this legitimate athlete, was right and yet for him to stand there and gloat, it sickened Death Angel. He felt himself boiling with inner rage but with no ability to unleash it. Instead, outwardly, all he could do was allow his head to slump away, but this act was swiftly countered as the near victorious Daniel simply lifted Angel's face back up to him, eyeing him with that same cocky stare.

"You know how good I am Death Angel." he sneered, self importantly.

Once again Angel could not deny it, nor could he argue that his match with Daniel a while back had been anything other than gruelling. Deep down the Champion knew that he was looking at the future of OSW, and regrettably it looked as if he himself was becoming the past, especially if Jack Money had anything to do with it...

Jack Money...

"I can help you stop Jack Money for good, but I need to know you trust me." Daniel continued. "So, what do you say?"

Trust.

'Daniel' and 'trust' were two things that Death Angel found as odd to be spoken aloud in the same sentence. In truth, some time ago when they faced each other it was Daniel's minions, the former DarkSide Society, had helped to deliver punishment for what Angel had somehow accomplished during their match...

Daniel's defeat.

There was no way Angel could ever trust this man, but at the same time this wasn't just about Death Angel anymore...

There was a stable in need of fresh meat, and he himself would need backup in the ensuing time before the big Pay-Per-View, after all, it was obvious that Jack Money had by no means finished in his attempts to weaken Death Angel ahead of their title match.

Death Angel grunted to himself in annoyance.

He knew that the only way to defeat someone like Jack Money would be to fight fire with fire, and Daniel represented that deceitful element, that destructive trump card needed, but as Angel contemplated this, Frost took his grunt as a signal to continue onwards and so she tried to walk him forwards, his own feet travelling against his will for reasons unknown.

Tearing himself away, Angel knew what was needed, even if it angered him to do so.

"Daniel!" he called out, causing the man himself to turn back to face him.

Reaching into his pocket with his good hand, Death Angel pulled out the specially embroidered 'Faction Elite Eight' wrist band and regarded it between his fingers. He'd had them specially made for himself and Patrick, and for any future members, back when he'd decided after his last run in with Daniel that the stable would be reborn...

This one was meant for his friend.

But Patrick was missing, and right now Angel needed backup, even more so than he needed the warmth that Frost ironically brought to his soul at that moment.

Patrick's wrist band, the 'FEE' wrist band, was tossed in the direction of Daniel, who caught it expectantly, that smirk developing into a knowing smile.

He'd won.

Still, Angel knew to keep his eye on him, and as the old proverb stated, 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer...'

With that, Death Angel turned away, driving onwards despite another wave of pain vexing him. They turned the corner together, Angel and Frost, both breathing heavily as they finally soaked in the tranquillity of this generally less populated corridor.

Taking this as his chance to inspect her, Angel slowed his gait to a crawl, pausing to stare at the visage of the Ice Queen before him.

She looked back to him, taking in the battered and beaten form that he now represented; their eyes locked, and Angel felt time drift away as he tried, beyond reason, to read this woman before him. And yet, like all women, he couldn't figure out just what she was thinking. However, at that moment he quite fancied the idea of finding out...

Exploring her femininity...

Meanwhile, deep within Frost, somewhere previously touched only by one other, she felt a weakness. Or at least she viewed it as such, trying desperately to control herself and push it away. It was too late, however. The feeling began to radiate outwards and engulf her, much like the pain that was afflicting Angel as excruciatingly as it was tender to her.

"I wonder why she kissed me..." Angel thought to himself. "I wonder if maybe she..."

But Violet...

Even entertaining such thoughts of romantic reckless abandon felt wrong for Death Angel, especially after he had longed for her for so long. He could never turn his back on this huge part of his life, after everything he'd endured, everything he'd given up, just to prove his love...

And yet...

This was a love that had never once been returned...

This was a love that had been entirely one sided, and had left Death Angel emotionally tortured and scarred. And because of this, because of this lack of commitment, Angel still couldn't help but entertain such thoughts about Frost, regardless of how apparently adulterous to his feelings they were.

Frost...

A smile crept across her face as she focused upon his blue eyes; she could easily see the struggle going on behind them as she wiped his cheek tenderly with a gentle thumb. Luckily for her, she had less trouble reading men...

"I think," she purred almost enticingly, trying to hide the worry in her voice for his condition, "we need to get you checked out."

Death Angel nodded, despite the weight of the world trying to wrench his head free.

He had no idea what the future would bring between them, but as he felt the pitter-patter of his own blood spill down onto his bare chest from the open wound on his forehead, Angel knew that she was right. For now he had to move on to where medical attention could be attained...

"Death Angel!!"

Suddenly another familiar female voice rang out, the last syllable fading out as Violet accidentally caught this tender moment between Angel and Frost, finding herself pausing in the corridor with trepidation and jealousy at the scene. Death Angel looked up, quickly flinching at the possibility of being caught out, despite Violet so adamantly portraying a lack of love towards him in the past.

Lack of love...

Even so, Death Angel couldn't help but feel the tension, unsuspecting as to why this would be the case, never realising that Violet's heart lay with Frost while his still belonged to her, and all the while Frost presented a new element, though one still not entirely understood by Death Angel...

Shaking his head free of such calamitous thoughts, Angel looked deep into Violet's shaded eyes, still feeling a swell of great emotion for her as he remained entwined in the arms of another; Frost tried her best to keep his weight bolstered, supporting his form.

With a small amount of pain inside, Violet quickly ushered for them to follow, eyes never leaving Frost's form as she spoke.

"There's an ambulance waiting for you this way..."

And so they followed.

In silence.

"This is awkward" Angel thought to himself. "What have I got myself into now?"

Despite the pain of his broken wrist and beaten form, this was...

It was worse...

And all because Death Angel couldn't fathom exactly what was going on between them, and hated not understanding...

"Women..."


***************************************************


Nearby, the ambulance screeched to a halt amidst the milling crowd that had gathered at the scene outside the OSW stadium. Quickly two EMT's raced through the people, trying to clear a path for the emergency vehicle to creep closer.

Such a commotion...

The back of the ambulance loomed in as Death Angel was helped outside, the English weather, normally something he was used to, now chilled him to his very core, making him involuntarily shudder for a moment, and with it the sickening feeling of splintered bone scrapping on splintered bone all but turned his stomach.

"Ugghhhh..."

Angel groaned aloud, trying his hardest not to vomit from the pain...

Suddenly the distant sound of a siren rang out into the cold London sky, actually penetrating Angel's mind despite the agony he was in. In the distance another ambulance sped off down the road, its occupant enclosed but all the same Death Angel knew who it was, or at the very least believed he did...

Blake had also suffered in their match up that night.

He'd goaded Death Angel, toyed with him in an effort to unleash the darkness within, and the results left him battered and beaten, and yet somehow still alive.

In truth, Angel didn't unleash the personality of his evil side entirely, just the ferocity of this demeanour. He'd tapped into this much needed resource thanks to the help of Slater who, all those months ago, he'd learned several techniques to calm and control the monster within from...

For reasons unknown to him Blake had requested to look into the belly of the beast as it were, the evil maelstrom of chaos that Death Angel had unwillingly harboured within the deep, dark recesses of his fractured psyche for a lifetime. Drake had claimed, during their match, that to look at this dark reflection he'd somehow be able to see the real him...

What did he mean?

Could it be that Blake was also afflicted with his own personal demon, much like him?

It was all pain induced speculation but Angel knew that it couldn't have anything to do with the virus; that had already been eradicated and disappeared from public consciousness long ago, before Death Angel himself was taken from OSW, snatched by his psychologically scarred uncle...

This was different.

This was nothing to do with Death Angel.

This was Blake's own internal second personality, with its own origin and demeanour, and it wanted out, much like the one within Angel. Maybe that was why he wanted to see Him so strongly? Was it for mutual friendship or complete dominance that "The Sick One's inner monster wanted to connect with Angel's evil side?

They didn't call 'The Sickness' Blake for nothing after all...

But at the same time once Angel considered Blake a decent person. He was a true rising star within the ranks of OSW's roster, and someone who at one time Angel had considered a future protg of sorts, were it not for life and the machinations of others getting in the way, ruining all plans as often they seemed to do.

Somehow, while Angel's attention was elsewhere, though, Blake had changed.

He'd drifted from the path, and maybe a second personality was the reason. After all, Angel could sense it. He could smell his own, so to speak. And now this duel creature was after Death Angel for unknown reasons...

But how?

How did he get this information about Angel's dark presence?

Beyond the pain, beyond the suffering, Angel's mind turned to thoughts of the one man Blake had claimed was the source of this information.

Patrick...

He was a true friend. Angel's best friend in all of OSW in fact, a friendship rivalled only by his relationship with Violet, but still that always left him wanting more. Indeed Ppatrick, followed closely by the missing Larry Sheckler and Chris Sheckler, had always been there for Angel, until recently. After John, Angel's jealous Tag Team Partner, had trapped him in a locker for some stupid prank, everything seemed to unravel.

Patrick was now missing...

And in his absence the evidence that he was not as good a friend as Death Angel had always believed began to mount up.

The bribe from Jack Money found in his bag...

The fact that he'd told Drake about Angel's affliction...

All of this set alarm bells ringing for Angel, making him doubt everything he'd believed for so long about his good friend...

"Huh?"

Alarm bells really were ringing.

Angel paused, both in his thoughts and on his faltering feet as he turned his head to look back to where the source of this unwanted auditory intrusion was being projected from. Despite feeling almost blinded by the pain Angel watched as TV Editor Rick came running out through a fire exit, causing the fire alarm to sound off, OSW World Heavyweight Belt in hand.

Angel's Heavyweight Belt...

Rick paused as he saw the true extent of the damage in first person, the belt almost falling from his grasp as he gasped in shock. A gash in Angel's forehead was still bleeding heavily, and the grotesque angle of his left arm as Angel tried to cradle it close to his chest indicated that it was broken.

Shattered even...

Other than that, he appeared to have suffered no other serious injury. Rick could only hope that he had no spinal injury, but the fact that he was being held up by both OSW's Secretary and one of its rising female stars brought that into question for him. One of the ambulance's crew jogged over and began tending to the now barely conscious World Champion as he eyed his gold in Rick's hands.

"Oh, I missed you..." Angel weakly joked with slurring words as Rick handed the title over to Violet.

"Just you get better, man." Rick quickly added, noting the look of concussion in Angel's half open eyes before stepping back to allow the paramedics room to open the ambulance doors. Angel tried to nod back but his head was too heavy, the pain from the fall and from the wrist taking his breath away.

"Put pressure on that now!" the one of the paramedics barked.

Another paramedic quickly applied pressure to the gaping wound on Angel's forehead as yet more EMTs brought over a gurney for Angel to sit on. Frost stepped back, allowing Angel's weight to be dispersed across the stretcher as Violet held onto the World Title.

Suddenly, Frost felt a firm hand on her shoulder.

"Miss, you need to move away now, please."

Frost turned to see a tall Security Guard behind her. Bolgan. She quickly babbled an explanation to him, trying to fob him off somewhat as he stared down at her.

"But... I'm joining his stable..."

Bolgan shook his head, relenting only slightly.

"Well, at least move back there then." he said, pointing back towards the OSW entrance several yards back. Relieved she had not been forced to leave entirely, Frost willingly moved back. She could still see the activity fine from there anyway.

Could still keep her eyes on Angel...

Next the Guard moved over to Violet but the OSW Secretary was quick to point out that she was in charge of him, and to leave her be. With a nod Bolgan briskly walked away, Violet's eyes trailing him until they locked onto Frost's, herself staring back at her.

Their eyes locked onto one another's...

To Violet, this was the girl she'd been eyeing up for some time, allowing herself to hope maybe for a real relationship for once, but for Frost, she was just miffed at the idea that Violet could get to go in the ambulance with Angel instead of her...

Frost felt a pellet of jealousy from within.

"Why does she get away with it?" Frost sighed to herself, not once suspecting that she was the object of Violet's affections, not the man she now regarded with such a warm feeling...

But who could blame her; she'd known, as did most of the OSW roster and staff, that Angel was Violet's slave, or so the rumours would state. After all, he'd been through hell and back to avenge her and to protect her good name. There had to be a reason for such slavery, but Death Angel was a slave that Frost longed to set free.

To break the chains...

Turning back to face Angel, their eyes met once more as the gurney he was on was loaded into the ambulance. Why was it that she found him so alluring? Was it the strength? The unfailing masculinity? Or was it just the simple fact that he was a nice guy for once?

Questions Frost couldn't answer at that time but probably needed to as she stared at him for the longest time.

Maybe it was the beard...

Death Angel's head was moved slightly from view as the stretcher became swallowed by the emergency vehicle, forcing Ange to lift himself back up on his elbows to maintain eye contact, staring back to Frost, this beautiful girl who was now regarding him, despite the blood and the horrible expressions of pain.

Unsure of what to do, Angel simply nodded to her.

She smiled back weakly, as if playing coy, and raised a hand to wave. Death Angel considered returning the gesture but realised all too soon that it would be a sick effigy; after all, his wrist was broken. Still, the idea of doing so amused Death Angel inside, but he knew it was something he'd never really do.

It had been too long without love to jeopardise this.

Suddenly however Violet, face filled with annoyance, stepped between them before disappearing into the back of the vehicle with Angel, the doors soon closing behind to leave a crowd of disappointed well wishers to moan aloud.

Standing there among them, Frost let out a big sigh.

"I guess I'll be driving to the hospital" she said aloud to no one in particular, eyes following as the ambulance started up and began to drive away. Through the glass at the back, however, just before the vehicle disappeared completely from view, Frost caught the unmistakable sight of Violet's face, looking back at her one last time, regarding her with hungry eyes before disappearing from view...

"What's up with that, anyway?"


TO BE CONTINUED

--------------------------the match--------------------------------

You See CC I may No Sell Death and yes I have seen it all and Done it all and Yes I have won World Titles and Lost them and Yes I did Date A Psychotic GM but for what nothing just to do it for fun.

Yes CC you forced me to Tap out so what its nothing New CC.

Corey Casey Not only will you understand that you Don't Fuck with a Angel but you and every one else will understand that Darkness is at the for front because I will make every ones life a living hell mostly Dan Alexander why because you dont fuck with a Syco.

Syco חזר Syco הוא שיחרר הגיהנום לחופשי

أنا أسطورة
أنا الظلام
أنا هبط الملاك
أنا قاعة دبليو إف فريست لفمر
أنا الملاك نقابتي سيكو

I am the Legend
I am the Darkness
I am the Fallen Angel
I am The Frist IWF Hall a Famer
I am Syco Angel