"Long Live The King." — Bloodbath II.

Wrong place, wrong time.

That’s how Jason came up short in his chance to become The Ace of the company — by just being in the wrong place at the wrong time — and the more that he thought about it, the more it hurted deep within him. To come as close as he did, to be so confident that he was destined to be the champion, to be so sure that he’d walk out of the Tokyo Dome with the Prime and the Legacy Championship in his hands. To have it all ripped away from him by being in the wrong place at the wrong time was a killing blow to everything he once had. Confidence, egotism, killer instinct. All of it was gone. All that was left was an empty shell of a man who claimed to be the everything that held together this company.

The only question he could even begin to ask himself is if he can bounce back stronger, tougher, and more smarter than before. If the come up from where he last fell off was going to be a rocky road or will things be as they were meant to be intended. To find out where the road would take him and where he could find a way to fix his past mistakes. The show had come to an end, the fire had been put out on Jason Long’s foot as he soon walked his way to the back, not leaving any permanent damage on his skin. The ring gear of Jason Long has been ripped to shreds along the right leg — where the flames engulfed upon his body — as he continues to walk through the backstage area and dragging along his Project: Honor Prime Championship.

As he makes his way to the locker room, he continues to look around in the hopes of seeing Savannah around at all. But the more he looks, the more he realises that she hasn’t returned just yet. Within that moment, he felt worried for her. Wondering if she’s somehow made any contact between the beginning and the end of his match. All he could ever hope for now was her safety. Jason soon walks into the locker room and is greeted with both Nathan and Dominic standing up and hopping over the couch to grab onto Jason.

It’s clear that it wasn’t just Jason who was worried during the night. His younger brother held onto Jason tightly, which felt awkward for him to act but then as Jason looked at Dominic, he could see the same look of worry on his face.

That’s when he senses it. Something wasn’t right. Something went wrong whilst he was gone.

“What happened?” he questioned. “What’s going on? Where’s Savannah? What’s after happening? And don’t fuckin’ bullshit with me because I can feel it, I can just feel it within me, just tell me what’s after fuckin’ happening.”

There’s a moment of silence as Dominic lets out a sigh. “Savannah hasn’t come back yet.”

“Wait a minute, what do you mean she hasn’t come back yet?” Again, he questioned. “She told me she would be here by now, she told me she would be back before the end of the match and see me hold the Legacy Championship—”

“Nobody has heard from either Savannah or Kit since they both left this evening. That was roughly around six hours ago. I don’t know where they are, I haven’t got an exact location of where they went, and I have no idea when they could come back either.”

It takes a moment before Jason would begin to move again, pushing past both Nathan and Dominic to step closer to the couch within the room, where he would rest his Prime Championship and lean down onto the couch itself. There’s a sickening feeling that makes his stomach churn in a way, that feeling of wanting to vomit hovered over him as Dominic patted Jason on the back to make sure he can feel somewhat better. But just behind him is a television screen that’s playing the ending to Night of Honor’s second week, that’s when Nathan taps Dominic on the shoulder.

“Dom, mate. Dom. Dom! You need to look at this, mate.”

“What is it, Natha—” he pauses and he looks. “Oh no. Oh no, dear god no.”

“What’s going on?” Jason soon adjusts himself and turns around to stare at what they look at. And as he looks, he stares in disbelief and in shock. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

That’s when he takes notice of what both of them look at — and to their absolute horror as they watch — seeing Arik Holt standing and alive, breathing the fresh air outside of the Tokyo Dome, before he could utter out the words that would soon haunt Jason forever.

“I’m the new Fallout General Manager, sir.” he exclaimed. “You have a wonderful night and enjoy your trip back to the states!”

In that very precise moment that they stand there and stare towards the television screen, Jason begins to sweat profusely as he begins to fear the worst for Savannah and for Kit, as he leaps over the couch and rummages through his gear bag to find his phone. As he soon turns the screen on, there’s no new messages. Nothing. The whole world felt like it was collapsing all around Jason, all of his worst damn nightmares were coming to life, and to top it all off? The safety of the one that he cared for the most is at jeopardy at some unknown location that he isn’t even aware of.

“I need to go find Savannah, I have to go and find her. I don’t even know where to begin looking but I just need to go around and find her — wherever she might be.” The sheer panic in his voice makes Dominic head over to Jason and hold onto him, trying his best to calm him down but it doesn’t seem to work. Sweating and panting as he breaks down into a panic attack in Dominic’s arms.

“I need to find her, I need to go and find her, I can’t leave her out there on her own, she might fuckin’ need me, please just let me go and find her!”

Nathan walked over to the door and soon exited the room, locking the door behind him and keeping an eye out in case anyone dared to try and barge into the room, and in those moments that they both had alone, Dominic held onto Jason as much as he could. Trying his best to keep him calm, trying his best to soothe him and allow himself to not be worrying and panicking for the worst outcome to have happened.

Minutes have gone by and Jason is back to being seated by himself, Dominic is seated on the couch as he watches Jason like a hawk, waiting to see if he’ll make even the slightest of moves. Jason moves his head up slightly, glancing around the room before dropping his head back down again, allowing himself to take a deep breath. He checks his phone again and like before — there’s nothing.

The future couldn’t have looked more duller than it has before. There’s no Christian DeMarco, there’s no Rock Johnson, there’s nobody who could save anyone from what nightmare the brand new season was about to bring with Arik Holt in charge of Fallout. Jason knows that the bad blood between himself and Arik Holt was at an all-time high but even then, this was going to the extreme to gain the upper-hand. To gain the advantage. In his mind, he knew that he wasn’t going to abide by the rules that Arik Holt could set out onto him.

If he barely listens to Christian DeMarco, then he’ll be damned if he begins with Arik Holt.

Jason began to move as Dominic watched. Standing up and finding himself looking towards the television screen that broke the news of a chaotic scene just outside of Tokyo City and there being three remaining survivors. The picture showed Savannah as the news reporter soon spoke with the news that the three were rushed into a nearby hospital and are alive and well. In that moment, Jason can feel himself becoming calmer than before. That feeling of worry, that feeling of panic, and that feeling of stress soon faded away. And now, all it came down to was one man. The one problem left.

Arik Holt.

And lord knows, Jason was going to do anything and everything in his power to get his hands on him.


Click.

"It was a rough end to the season, I'll be the first to admit that.”

Though his voice is the first thing we hear, the opening visual shows us the Project: Honor Prime Championship. As the camera soon panned back, we’re met with the sight of Jason Long as he finds himself seated with his right leg hovered over his left. With the glass in his hand, he takes a drink from his glass of whiskey, before placing it back down onto the table at the side.

“I had everything set to become the Legacy Champion — I made the promise to become the champion — and yet, I messed up and I couldn’t complete the job that I was assigned to. I realised on that night that maybe something was telling me that it wasn’t the right time. Something was telling me that it was not going to be my moment to become the Legacy Champion. And although I never did at first, right now — I have accepted that fact. I have accepted the fact that whoever or whatever has chosen my fate, has somewhat ruined me for what was a foreseeable future, and I am totally okay with that because I’ve been really waiting for a real challenge since I defeated Kayla and Savannah and become a double champion. Now look at us, look around you and see what has become of Fallout since Night of Honor, because you have Elena reigning terror all of the time and now you have Arik Holt as the General Manager of Fallout because he fired Christian DeMarco and took his role.

And now look at him, trying to cause some rampage around here and act as if people are going to listen to him as he tries to take over the fuckin’ brand and use for his own leisure. I’m not sure what brand he thinks this is but this is primarily a brand where nobody likes the fuckin’ cunt, does he expect things to go so beautifully? But right now, I know where he stands and at the moment, he is not in my way as I look towards what awaits me, and what my next defense of this beautiful championship awaits for me. When I watched this man gain a contendership spot to the championship, I felt a little bit happy about it. I had that feeling that I knew I was getting into something good — and rightfully so since our previous encounters in the past have been notably fun — but I felt it was against someone that deserved this spotlight. They deserved this chance. They deserved to be in the position they are in right now.

Of course, I am speaking about you, Julius Fairweather.

Arguably, the baddest motherfucker on the brand right now — if not, of all time — and you, Julius, have always impressed me when it came to things like this. That is no secret, I could have told you that any day of the week even if we’re not opponents. You’ve been someone that’s had my back in any circumstances where I needed it and I have done the same for you. We’ve teamed before and look where it has gotten us. You went on to become the Tag Team Champion with Pyro and I became the star that I was destined to be. Prime Champion. Noble Champion. Main Evented the biggest event of the company’s history. We’ve both had our comuppences since then, Julius. I’m sure you would agree on that too. And I wouldn’t want to make things change at all. I really wouldn’t want that to happen. But here we are, heading into Bloodbath, and it’s me and you.

You haven’t had a chance like this since you were in that pile that was a part of Drago Santiago’s first set of challengers to this exact championship. Since then, what have you done? Apart from the Tag Team Championships that will forever have that stank on them of the previous champions, what have you done since then that’s even close to noteworthy? Because, as I look back to those things you’ve done, all I can see is just match after match with nothing towards it. And it made me realise why that’s the case because I remembered who Julius Fairweather was. And the more I remembered, the more I soon realised why that could have been and why you only have gotten your next chance now—

Because you just don’t have it.”

A half-smile soon grew on his face.

“And sometimes, that’s okay. Sometimes that’s alright to not have that it factor. Have you seen some of the people that try their best to lead this brand, Julius? Some of them barely have hit the ground running with an it factor and yet, they try and they miserably fail at what they attempt. And what am I meant to do about it? I can’t ask whoever is in charge to run a gauntlet and whoever survives has a real it factor in them and can become a real challenge. Because everyone’s going to try their hardest and even if the winner survives from beginning to end, you have to look back on his track record and see that he’s only temporarily holding that it factor until it’s beaten out of him. Which is where I lie with you, Julius. I’ve seen you lose out on many and many championship contenders spots before in the past and it showed me that you didn’t have that factor just yet.

You didn’t show that killer instinct that’s commonly used around here. How are you going to survive when you have zero killer instinct within you to carry yourself across the finish line, mate? At that point, you’re carrying the dead weight of what you want to use and it’s going to hold you back when you get into the real shit, the championship match. And then, what are you going to do? Put up a good fight and hope that — at the end of the day — you might just get lucky and become the champion that you were destined to become. Bring forth a war and pray to god that you might survive and you might walk off of the battlefield with the championship in tow. Send me to hell and drag me around like a fuckin’ puppet and hope that the devil keeps me down there and makes sure I don’t come crawling back up again.

Because I can tell you the many that have attempted those same methods, Julius, and they have not succeeded in doing so. As a champion, I’ve seen it all in my time. You can put up a good fight but I’ll put up a better one and kick the fuckin’ shit out of you. You can bring forth a war but I’ll leave you trembling in the trenches with a damn rifle pointed to your head. You can drag me through hell but I will stomp your head into the ground and leave your skull on a fuckin’ pike to be used for decoration. Maybe it’s not clicked into that head of yours, Julius, but I can do all of that because I have that fuckin’ killer instinct that’s needed to survive on this brand.

May I remind you that you are on Fallout? Not the bullshit goodness that Proving Ground has to offer. When you are on this brand, you better have a good fuckin’ killer instinct within you and that is why I have been the champion that you see before you today because I have that killer instinct deep within my roots and rushing through my veins. It’s why I’ve defeated Drago Santiago. It’s why I’ve defeated Savannah Sunshine. It’s why I’ve defeated Kayla Richards. It’s why I put an end to Elena DeDraca only for a burning rope to ruin it. It’s why I made Syndicate re-evaluate everything he had to offer. It’s why I survived an entire roster load of people in a Battle Royal and came out on top.

Because I am a fuckin’ killer and yet, nobody has dared to put me down for good. And I can assure you — along with everyone else — that’ll never ever change so long as I live, as I breathe, and as I thrive to become the best of the best that this fuckin’ company has to ever offer up. And that’s what makes us different, Julius. Because I adapt to my surroundings and I adapt to whoever or whatever I have to face. I’ve slain those that have stepped forward for my championship. I’ve slain those that thought they were way too good to be beaten. And I’ve left them laying in the ring like it’s a fuckin’ crime scene. Because whilst I am a cold-blooded killer inside of that ring?

You — Julius Fairweather — are a simple one trick pony.”

His whole demeanor changed. Tone and all. Jason soon leaned forward and brought his arms down onto his knees. Cocking his head up as he stared into the lens of the camera.

“There’s no better way of putting it, Julius. You’re just not fit for this brand. For my brand. For my warzones. For anything that has me within it. You are just not ready for what I bring to the table. You’ve got like some kind of kickboxing background on you but then what? All you are is just some dude with some fancy kicks and that’s nothing special at all. The only reason why people cheer you on is because you mutter out the word ‘motherfucker’ like it’s a full-stop at the end of a sentence. Motherfucker this, motherfucker that, motherfucker everywhere. Like, can you do something more than that? It’s like poking something with a stick and hoping it does something else. You walk around here like a toy doll and mutter out the same fuckin’ word every single time. I’ll give you this piece of advice one time and I mean it being one time only, Julius.

Do something else.

You could be doing anything else in the world right now and it might be the biggest career-defining move you could have ever made but you continue to speak that same fuckin’ word over and over and these small-minded idiots believe you and want to be by your side. Let me put this scenario into your head, Julius. If you do happen to walk out with the championship at Bloodbath, the fans will cheer you on, right? They’ll cheer, they’ll be happy, and in the weeks that come after all of that? They’ll continue to cheer like it’s something brand new they’ve seen. But then it clicks into their heads. Then it starts to become a realisation. They begin to grow tired of you and they begin to look back and think to themselves — why did we support this man when he does nothing else but say motherfucker?

Then you’ll lose all of those eyes on you. Then you’ll begin to lose all of that traction. And then you’ll crumble with nothing to fall back on. And I — as the current champion — will not allow that to happen to the championship that I have rebuilt from the fucking ground up and rebuilt the prestige that this championship has around it right now. I will not allow it to be handed to some one trick pony that hopes saying one word can help him win more matches and become a successful champion. Because I can assure you, I wouldn’t bet on my lucky fuckin’ stars for that to happen.

You’re a flop, a failure, and a constant one at that too. You have nothing going for you and you will never have anything going for you. You should be focusing on trying to defend the Tag Team Championships except for trying your best to become ‘the face of the company and the brand’ when you couldn’t hold a fuckin’ candlelight to those faces of the comapny before you. Do you think that someone like me — the longest reigning current champion within the company of Project: Honor right now — would drop my championship to some bum like Julius Fairweather? Would you think that would be the marketable move for me to make? Would that help me in the long run knowing that I gave the championship up to some bum like Julius Fairweather who couldn’t fit into the same shoes that I left for him? I might not have shown up for quite some time but I’ll be damned if I let someone like you walk in and take my championship and flop in what I achieved to do with this championship.

Remember, I am the history maker. I am the record breaker. I am the realest fuckin’ deal that this brand has and not a single motherfucker alive can topple me down from where I stand. Many have tried, many have dared to attempt it, but they have all fallen down the same route. They have all fallen down the same path. And they have all fallen down under my foot. Because I have the power to do that. I have the power to run through people like it is nothing. And I do not intend to stop right now, Julius.

Not now. Not ever. Because I am the forever champion. The eternal champion.

And nobody can put an end to me.”

A pause.

“It’s crazy though, a month ago I would have said that this is just a friendly competition. I would’ve said that this would be a fight between two good friends. But then I finally snapped out of that and said fuck it. I will not allow anyone to become a threat. I will not allow anyone to come close to taking this championship. And I will not allow it to begin with you. We’re in a brand new era of Fallout, Julius, and these weeks that I’ve had to myself to rethink and reevaluate? They’ve made me realise what I needed all of this time.

I needed to look back. I needed to see what the past would have held for me before I dove into the future. And as I look behind me, I realise that my future is bright. My future holds gold. My future has a legacy behind it. And I will not stop until it becomes mine. So, I wish you the best of luck, Julius. I hope you bring forth something new, you heed my advice, and you put up a damn good fight against me because I have been dying for one.

And I cannot wait to conquer and destroy the next threat to my championship.”

Click.

CANTON, OHIO. — OCTOBER 16TH.

“They see a need for a TRUE SOCIETY!”

Those words echoed throughout the office that Jason sat within. As he watched the most recent replay of the latest Fallout episode and watched as the many soon came together and formed a group named ‘True Society’. The names included the likes of Valkyrie, Slade Castle, Lesley Adora, Graham Baker, and someone that Jason has a well-known history with — Havoc. All led by the crazed psychopath himself, Arik Holt. Though Jason has not shown up for a single episode of Fallout since the end of the last season, it never meant that he kept his attention focused closely on what Arik had planned next. As he clicked the pause button to look at the group in all of it's so-called glory. He scans the field in front of him, watching and seeing what he has awaiting for him when he finally does decide to show up. When would be the true question.

The supposed defense with Julius Fairweather that was planned out months ago has now been changed up, and now a member of True Society has joined the match to make it a three-way dance for the championship. Havoc was going to join the fray. It was bad enough to have to face him ahead of their match at Hardcore Havoc in OWA but that’s Christopher Sabertooth, not the alter ego. Jason soon brought his head down and began to ponder his mind, trying to figure out if this was worth the hassle that it would bring, if this was worth it to even try and save Fallout from the corrupted mind of Arik Holt.

Suddenly, he hears a knock at the door but doesn’t proceed to lift his head up and see who walks into the room. As the door creaks open, Savannah soon peeks her head into the office room before walking in. She spotted Jason hunched over in his chair and his head dug into his arms, bringing her arm around him and leaning in close to him.

“You shouldn’t have to worry about any of that when you know you’re not entirely ready to come back,” she spoke. “You need to take care of your own health before thinking of trying to start a fight that you probably won’t be able to win by yourself. Just—” she then sighed. “Just take a few more days before making up a decision. I know how much you want to go back there but just give it more time. See how you feel then, okay? I love you dearly.”

With a kiss to the head, she stood back up straight and walked towards the door, looking to leave Jason alone to continue projecting his thoughts to himself- but Jason soon raises his head. Turns to stare at Savannah — who looks back at Jason — before speaking in a soft spoken tone.

“I’m not going to let him win. I’m not going to let him get the better of me- of us,” he exclaimed. “I’ve waited long enough, and I’ve thought about it long enough, and I want back into that ring so I can prove I am no coward. I am not running away from his bullshit. I am charging straight ahead and I will break down the damn wall if I have to. He is not winning against me again. And he is going to pay — along with the rest of those True Society fucks that he has with him — for what they’ve attempted over the last couple of weeks.”

Savannah walked back over to Jason, grabbing onto his right hand. “Are you sure about this?”

“I’ve never been more positive about something in my life. Because I will not go down a quitter, I will not go down running, I will go down fighting if I have to and I have yet to be given a fight with these lot.” A pause. “And remember this, darling— I will do anything for you, just give me the word and I will do whatever it takes. That is a promise I will keep to my grave.”

“Anything and everything, right?”

Jason nods. “Anything and everything. I will do whatever it takes. Just give me the word.”

Savannah kneels down and begins to wonder her mind about the endless possibilities that she could use to grant any kind of wish of hers. She could ask for anything in the world, she could ask for everything there is in the world, and a promise is a promise. But it soon clicks into her head, something she’s been thinking about for the past couple of days, and something she is sure that Jason would love to hear.

“Show up to Bloodbath and kick their fucking heads in.” she whispered into his ear.

“Your wish is my command.”

As a smile soon grew on his face, the two soon locked lips with one another. The days that were to come would be rough but one thing was for certain. The King would be back and he would rain down hell for anyone from True Society. It was a promise he had to keep. A promise that he couldn’t break. And if he were to break that promise, then he would have nothing left but his own sorrow.

And that was something he cannot prepare for.


Click.

There’s no opening vocal as the feed soon comes alive. Just the visual of the large television screen in the background that shows the most recent episode of Fallout — and the key frame of all six members of True Society filling up the screen — as a silhouette walks in front of the screen. The facial features are just visible as we make out the face of the Prime Champion, seemingly dressed to the nines in the finest of his suits, and the championship resting on his right shoulder. Two sudden claps break the silence as the lights soon brighten up the room and we get a full visual of The King in all of his glory, showing off his side profile as he stares off to something out of the shot, chewing on the piece of gum in his mouth.

“True Society, huh?”

A pause.

“I understand that you — Arik Holt — like to class yourself as an evil mastermind at work, and recruiting the most deviant and dangerous group of individual misfits that you could find is something that I was- well, I was surprised but at the same time, I wasn’t so surprised by it. I wasn’t surprised at all by the fact that whilst I’ve been gone from Fallout, I’ve had to watch Arik Holt try his best to play devil’s advocate and do anything in his power to create a personal hell for me. A team of some dumb cringe cunt named Valkyrie, Slade Castle who’s… just there, a person who has a guaranteed chance to cash in for my championship — Lesley Adora. And then there’s two people who I have quite the fond history with. Graham Baker and the man that is — for some reason — injected into this match without a good reason to it… Havoc. I have to say, Arik. If this was your option to try and find some way to put the fear of god into me, then consider it done. My timbers have been shivering. My boots are shaking as we speak. The fear has me trembling profusely.

I just don’t think you really get it, Arik. Because as I watch you from the comfort of my home, trying to take the championship away from me in handicap matches, and then assembling teams like you’re all a retarded version of The Avengers, I realise that you’re just doing way too much in one sitting. Hell, I wasn’t even there and all you did was form a group to try and put fear into the roster and into me. I wasn’t even there and you tried to take the title off of me. But then you pussied out of that when you realised that I just wasn’t there. You should have taken the title off of me and given it to either Havoc or Julius Fairweather, because then I would have known that I wouldn’t need to show up on the brand anymore and you can roam freely as you’d like without having the worry of anyone disrupting your plans. But yet, there you are, throwing everything at the wall. Throwing all of that shit at the wall and hoping to god that it sticks for the time being. For someone I ‘complimented’ as an evil mastermind, you are quite clearly the fuckin’ worst at this.

But then I look at the toy puppet that you’ve inserted into this match with me and Julius. I look at who you’ve got to face me and Julius at Bloodbath. And I have to ask one question — why? Why the fuck would I ever want to face off against someone like him? Why the fuck would I ever want another person in this match? Why the fuck would I want to have some member of True Society in this match? But I get, I understand it, I know why you would have done it. You’re just wanting to stack the numbers against me, keep things unfair and use your General Manager role to abuse those powers given to you. Honestly, I think that Make-A-Wish were very generous in letting you have this kind of power.

Though, you have granted me something I’ve wanted. You have given me someone I’ve waited six months for. You have given me Havoc and that — in itself — is probably the best thing that you’ve ever done since you’ve shown up. But even as the best thing you’ve done, you’ve made a major mistake with who you’ve given me. Because you haven’t given me the Havoc that I know, but you’ve given me this knock-off Havoc that looks way too different and acts way too different, and isn’t the same strong force that I’ve sided with multiple times before within the Omega Wrestling Alliance, and this isn’t the Havoc that I knew to cause chaos wherever he went.

The fuck am I meant to do with this, Arik?”

Using his left hand to hover just in front of him, as if Havoc is right there.

“The fuck am I meant to do with a damn cosplayer that pretends to be Havoc? The fuck am I meant to do with someone who wants to be just like Havoc? You tell me what I should do with something like this and then I’ll give this man a reason because let me tell you, I do not want these lousy fucking knock-offs that is just handed to me on a silver platter — I want the real fuckin’ thing. You expect me to work with this shit? You expect me to live in fear from this thing? It’s fucking pathetic, if you’d ask me. But I guess, beggars can’t be choosers and I should work with what I’ve got, eh? I should be grateful for what I’ve been given and another body is perfect for someone like me that’s full of hunger for a fight.

So what has this Havoc done since they’ve arrived? What has this Havoc been able to achieve since they’ve shown up here to Project: Honor? What has gotten them their place in this spot for my Prime Championship? Shall we simply explain the amount of losses that Havoc has slowly gathered against legitimate opponents but continues to slack time and time again. You know, maybe it's me but something just doesn't make sense to me and I'll never understand what it is really. Maybe it's the fact that you've been given chance after chance after chance again even when you flop every single time. Maybe it's the fact that you didn't build your way up to this spot like everyone else has. Maybe it's the fact that — out of everyone that they could have picked for this match in True Society — they had to pick the weaker one. The delusional one. The ill-minded one. Name it and it will be shamed. This person that goes around here calling himself Havoc is no Havoc of mine, but yet, I’m sure when he does decide to speak—

He’ll speak of our past. Our history. Our friendship. Everything that was once there before. I’m sure it’ll be brought up, I’m sure he’ll bring up the fact that I turned my back on Havoc, I’m sure he’ll bring up the great betrayal, I’m sure he’ll bring up the day that I made him weakened and vulnerable in front of millions of people watching around the world. I’m sure he’ll know everything, I’m sure he will, and I’m sure that he’ll walk around wherever he is and tell me that he created me and he made me who I am today. Because that’s the whole point, right? To get into my head and take me off of my game? We’ve been down this road one too many times before and I’m damn sure you know that no matter what is thrown in my direction, I’ll still cut them down and leave everyone dead.

Created me. Made me who I am. That’s quite hilarious when I think about it, Havoc. Because if that’s the case, then your own creation is the thing that almost killed you, isn’t that insane? I love it when you tell me that you created me because it’s quite clear that when you look at my past long before you showed up and took control of me, I was already a major successful star in the making, and I was already on a rise but never met my prime just yet. But with — or without — Havoc, I remained the stone cold-blooded killer that you see before you today. All that you did was allow me to resort to violence first before ever asking questions later. All that you allow me to do is let my anger become my main expression and look where that got me, Havoc. Look where that fuckin’ got me because all I was doing for months was suffer, feel the unmerciful pain that you put me through.

You didn’t create me, you didn’t make me, but I sure did fuck you up. And now? I get the chance to do it all over again, I get the chance to ruin your life once more, and I get the chance to put an end to what I started at Final Destination III. Though, it does suck, having to face the weaker and watered down version of Havoc compared to the one you would see in OWA or even in SSW. And it’s because of you being that kind of Havoc that I have to put you out of your fuckin’ misery and put an end to some fraudulent ‘demonic entity’. And when I do put and end to you, I will do it with the Project: Honor Prime Championship held above my fuckin’ head at Bloodbath. Before I do the same thing to you at Hardcore Havoc and beat you with the respect you’ve been so desperately wanting.

All because you were the mere sacrificial lamb to the slaughter — courtesy of Arik Holt.”

Jason soon chuckled to himself. Adjusting the championship that rested on his shoulder.

“And I know that my recent absence has made many wonder if I was coming back to save Fallout from the perils that it seems to be in right now, and well, I guess this is your confirmation really. Because when I step into the MGM Grand Garden Arena on Halloween, I will walk in with a purpose and I will walk around the entire building looking for some scumbags like True Society, and I will fight off against them if I have to, and I will knock each and every single one of the cunts down. One by one. Knock ‘em all fuckin’ down. Leave them laying in the fuckin’ river. Floating.

Dead.

Trust me, Arik. If you thought I was going to be a weakened down man, you have been heavily mistaken, son. After Night of Honor, I sat back and I let myself go. I really did. And then, I began to build myself back together again and I found that hunger that I was missing. I found that ‘thrive for success’ that I’ve been missing dearly. I’ve found that power, strength, and fucking integrity that I have been missing. But you, Arik. Seeing what you’ve done to me. Seeing what you’ve done to Savannah. Seeing what you’ve done to Fallout as a whole. It brought back that bloodthirst. And now? I look to take back MY BRAND.

THIS WAS NEVER YOUR FALLOUT, ARIK.

THIS. IS. MY. FALLOUT.

I AM THE GOD DAMNED FUCKIN’ KING AROUND HERE.

I AM THE FUCKIN’ PRIME CHAMPION — THE CHAMPIONSHIP OF FALLOUT.”

A pause.

“And I know what is best for my brand, I know what is best for my show, I know what is best for this company. You are not going to take my show, you are not going to take my championship, and you are not going to take everything away from me. So help me god, Arik. I will forever be the thorn in your side so long as you’re in mine. True Society, prepare to meet your fuckin’ maker. Arik Holk, prepared to be greeted with the sadistic bastard who wants his brand back.

Havoc and Julius, come forth. Bring yourselves to the ring. And bring the hell you have supplied.

Because I am not leaving this throne.

I am not leaving my place.

I am leaving Las Vegas with the Project: Honor Prime Championship.

I am leaving Las Vegas with my head held high.

And I will forever reign as your champion.

Your emperor.

Your leader.

Your king.

And I am back to collect my dues.”

A beat.

“Long live the fuckin’ king.”

The lights soon dim. The screen in the background cuts to black.

“All fuckin’ hail.”

Click.