*GORE IN CD WARNING* Tyrant Of Nightmares

Unaired Footage
London, England
Abandoned Warehouse
February 4th, 2021


The sky is a widow’s sky, bedarkened and weeping. The clouds are churlish and Kraken-cruel. They cough out great gouts of water and thunking balloons of sopping moisture. It teems down in a biblical deluge, flooding the rivers, drowning the fields and overflowing the drains. It is a Noah’s-Ark cataclysm of rain, an unending cataract of water sluicing from the sky. The rain is incessant. It snaps and crackles like bracken pods in a bushfire. The flood-gates in the atmosphere opened up, and no-one is there to close them back up, it seems.


The boots made a squishing noise as the hooded figure walked in the rain; the hooded figure looked like they were carrying something big over their shoulders. They had bags in their hands too that seemed rather heavy. They also had the hood up as they continued to walk as the heavens continued to open up, but that was the good old English weather for you. The hooded figure had got out of the rain and into what looked like to be an abandoned warehouse. They then dropped whatever they were carrying on to the floor, which made a loud thud that echoed its way around.


One of the bags is dropped to the floor, making a noise like wood hitting concrete as the figure carefully placed the other one down on the floor. That’s when the hooded figure grabs some stuff from the bag, stuff that looked like wood. Once they carefully placed it on the floor, the hooded figure grabbed what seemed to be a can of something that they poured all over the wood carefully placed on the ground. Pulling a small box out of their pocket, they pull out a match and strike it before flicking it at the wood on the floor. It must have been the fuel poured onto it that causes the fire to rage up as the lit match hit the wood. Finally, we get to see who it is as they take the hood down to reveal a very excited and happy Pyro looking at the fire as he inhales, taking in that smell of fuel.


“This shall be my place to stay while in London. My little sanctuary as such. Just me and my beautiful thoughts.” Pyro says talking to himself out loud. 


The fire is burning wonderfully as we now get to see what was on his shoulders, a pig, one that had its legs tied up and its mouth gagged too. It was still alive as it laid on the floor, but escape was no option for the poor thing. Grabbing the axe from its sheath attached to his belt, he briefly headed out of the warehouse before returning with what looks like a tree trunk. Placing it on the floor, he gets to work on it with his axe, eventually managing to make a seat out of it. Pyro then puts his axe back into its sheath on his belt as he admires his handy work.


In the warehouse that Pyro was in, there wasn't just the smell of fire in the air, but the smell of death was too, and the sick fuck that Pyro was this was better than any hotel. Pyro takes a look around, his eyes lighting up with joy when he sees a hook hanging from one of the beams and what looked like dry blood everywhere. He was either in an old abattoir or some sick torture place, not that it mattered to Pyro what one it was. Pyro walks over to the pig, throws it over his shoulder and heads over to the hook. Once he was there, he used all his strength to throw the pig onto the hook.


The squeal from the pig was sickening; even though Pyro had gagged the pig, you could still hear the loud squeal. Pyro had hung it upside down and now untied the legs before taking the gag of the pig who tried to bite Pyro’s hand. He quickly stepped back and threw a right punch at the pig's head hitting it between the eyes.


“You fucking bastard!” He holds his right fist, He knew it wasn’t a good idea to punch the pig, but he did it without thinking.


Grabbing the axe, Pyro took it from its sheath and then cut the pig's throat with it and just stood there as the pig started to bleed out. It wasn't long before a puddle of blood was underneath where the pig was as Pyro watched ecstatically as the pig died. Looking down at his axe Pyro smirked. “Damn, that’s tasty.” He says, licking all the pig's blood from it before placing it back into the sheath on his belt.


As Pyro walked back over towards the fire, he licked his lips, managing to get the stray bit of pig's blood from the side of his mouth. Once at the fire, he took his axe from his sheath and placed it on the tree trunk seat he’d made and sat down next to it. He takes the necklace that was tucked underneath his clothes and holds the melted wedding ring set that just looked like a blob of metal with a hole in it now. He looked at it every day to remind him that love was an emotion he didn’t want or need.


Thinking about his wife he once loved, he hated her so much right now. She took everything from him, made him into the monster he is now and let the voices in his head win. Pyro couldn’t and didn’t want to fight his violent and disturbing impulses no more. He knew that whatever it took, he had to do it, and he had nothing to lose. Sliding the necklace back under his clothes, he got to his feet and kept punching the side of his head.


“Do not let thoughts of them distract you, Pyro. It’s just you and I now, give in and become the shepherd who leads the sheep to the slaughter.” Pyro stops punching his head and tilts his head to the side, smirking sadistically.


Pyro gets up to his feet, having got comfort from the voice clearly inside his head. He heads over to the bag with the wood in it and grabs some of it out of it. Then he walks over to the axe on the tree trunk seat and picks it up, followed by heading back over to chop some of the wood up.

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Aired Footage
London, England
Abandoned Warehouse
February 5th, 2021


The warehouse is a damn horrible and cold looking place, the only light source being from a man-made fire. There is a big tree trunk beside the well-made fire which had been made into a seat. The craftsmanship of it is clearly done by a very skilled person with an axe. The person in question is none other than “The Messiah Of Fire”  Pyro himself. He had his beloved axe in hand as he chopped up more wood for the fire. “The Nightmare” was clearly in his element, in a surrounding he was most comfortable in too. As he was finished chopping wood, he throws his axe towards the big tree trunk, and it sticks into the end of it nicely.


The wood that Pyro had just cut, he grabs and scoops it up into his arms and carries it over to near the fire and dumps it onto the floor. He then walks over to the big tree trunk he had crafted into a seat and sits down on it. Pyro clearly felt safe where he was; after all, he had set up traps around all the ways in and out of the warehouse. There was no way anyone was getting in or out of the warehouse unknown or unharmed, just the way Pyro liked it. You’d be stupid to even try anyway because Pyro wouldn’t hesitate to throw his axe straight at you.




The laughter from Pyro is exceptionally creepy as it echoes throughout the warehouse; the laughter is enough to send chills down anyone’s spine. Grabbing his phone from his pocket, Pyro types in whatever he was as his laughter dies down.


“Being a tyrant throughout history hasn’t been a good thing at all. Especially when it comes to just some of the cruellest tyrants from back then. Let me only select half of those tyrants to tell you about.


I’ll start with one of history’s oldest, cruellest and most unpredictable tyrants Caligula from 37AD to 41AD, and in these four short years, he restored treason trials, causing the death of many. Records show that the first six months of his reign were relatively moderate, but after this, he worked manically to increase the unconstrained power of the emperor, attained new lands, both for himself and for the Empire, and led a campaign of sadism, extravagance and sexual perversity for the remaining three and a half years of his reign.


Enver Pasha… He began his career as a Turkish military officer before rising to power, leading the Ottoman Empire in both the Balkan Wars and the First World War. His army suffered a harsh loss at the Battle of Sarikamish, and this prompted his systematic destruction of Armenia, having chosen the Armenians as the scapegoats for his defeat. The term ‘genocide’ was created to describe this event, and the 2.5 million deaths are a testament to his evil.


Then we have Oliver Cromwell, who led the Roundheads to victory over the Royalists in the English Civil War, and was one of the signatories of King Charles I’s death warrant in 1649; this was just the start of his autocratic behaviour. History has not been kind to one of Britain’s few non-Royal leaders in nearly two millennia, with Cromwell being widely regarded as a regicidal military dictator by many. His treatment of the Scottish and Irish Catholics is particularly derided. His religious rulings were highly controlling and led to death tolls in genocidal numbers. Plus, he will forever be remembered as the man who took Christmas.”


Putting his phone beside him, Pyro grabs a couple of logs he’d chopped earlier from beside him; Pyro then chucks them onto the already roaring fire. Once he was done, he picked the phone back up from beside him.


“Next up, we have Porfirio Diaz, who was once seeming to be the great liberator of Mexico; Porfirio Díaz quickly proved himself to be an authoritarian who ruled with an iron fist, albeit for an impressive 27 years. As is often the case with dictators – and really, this is quite a truism – their main focus is on themselves rather than the people they are ruling over. Díaz took control of Mexico from Manuel Gonzalez, who had refused to relinquish the presidency, as was required by law. Díaz then hypocritically went on to do the same, centralizing the government, achieving total control, and arguably destroying (or revitalizing, according to some) the country’s economy. Díaz later announced that Mexico would have presidential elections and rig the results, sparking the beginning of the Mexican Revolution. 27 years is all it takes for the oppression to become too much.


Then comes Fu Sheng, the original and arguably ‘the worst’ tyrannical leader of one of the world’s most consistently powerful nations. ‘The One-Eyed Tyrant,’ as he was lovingly called, Fu Sheng was an emperor who ruled the Former Qin Kingdom. His nickname came from the fact that he had one eye and was so self-conscious about this that he would have people killed if they used the words ‘devoid of,’ ‘without,’ ‘lacking,’ or any other utterance that would remind him of his shortcomings. He led a violent and cruel regime, and some of his sadistic tendencies included boiling live animals and skinning both live animals and humans. He was deposed while drunk and sentenced to death by being dragged by a horse. A humiliatingly illustrious short reign of terror.


Finally, I’ll go with a man who we can all learn a lesson from Maximilien Robespierre, up to a point, if it seems that what are you doing is noble enough and benefits the country to a significant extent, people may judge you more kindly. But history isn’t kind. Robespierre was a highly principled leader and arguably one of the more enlightened European leaders of the time. He went far to secure France‘s reputation as a forward-thinking state. His ideas may have placed him as incorruptible, but his actions cemented his place as a tyrant. The systematic killing of his enemies in order to realize his ideals is quite alarming. The person who can easily justify radical and widespread murder is the person that should be the most feared.”


Shutting off the phone, he slides it into his pocket before picking up an iron rod from the floor to poke the fire.


“I guess you’re all asking what that has to do with you and secondly why I would choose to read them out?


Well… Just some of the cruellest tyrants from history, and I choose to read them out because none of you in this match are even remotely willing to do anything close to what any of them have done. I can admit that I definitely wouldn’t do a lot of it, but there is stuff I’m willing to do that none of you lot involved in this match are. I hope you watched my last match, saw how I was set on fire and was more upset the fire was put out than actually losing. I’m willing to make history by adding my name to the list of the cruellest tyrants. Now I’m not going to do anything to the extent they all did, but what I will do will put me down as the Tyrant of Nightmares.


I will happily set you on fire and watch you burn, even tie you up and make you watch as I burn whatever or whoever is dear to you, and that’s not all of what I’m willing to do. I’d also be happy to spill your blood or mine, and last but not least, I’ll do whatever it takes to hurt you physically and mentally as I really don’t care about any one of you.”

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“There are several people in this match, each one of you with a lot to offer and to lose. That’s where you all differ from me, I have nothing left to lose, I have nothing to care about, and that’s what makes me a dangerous man. I have things to say about everything single person involved in this match, and I’ll make sure I say it all without holding back. If you don’t like what I have to say, I beg you to come and make me bleed and make my fucking day by hurting me!


I’m going to start with Bruce McLeod, a man who's only had one match in Project: Honor, and that was a Dark Match. I don’t give a fuck if you’re a veteran who's been a ten times champion somewhere else. Don’t you dare think you can walk into Project: Honor and take the space of someone who was previously in the Legacy Chamber Match. It doesn’t matter that you won your Dark Match; that doesn’t mean you can just volunteer yourself to be put in that match. There are far more deserving here in Project: Honor than you, and as for Matt Knox, I thought better of him than to just offer you a title shot for a title he doesn't even have yet, but he isn’t in this match, so he can fuck off and read Edgar Allan Poe.


Bruce… I’m not a nice guy and never will be; when it comes to stepping in the ring, I don’t do nice, and I definitely don’t show mercy. So whether it’s you, Frosty the Snowman or even my dead Granny rising from the grave, I’m going to do whatever it takes to end you and get what I want.”


Having poked the fire enough, even though the rod was hot and burning his hand, he takes great pleasure in it as he puts the rod down and smiles, looking at his hand.




Oh, that’s right, the forever undefeated Julius Fairweather, the man who got his ass handed to him by The Silver Scot, Bruce McLeod. I swear you must be as fucking delusional as the guy that kicked your ass. The F Word fucking sucks, and so do you, Julius. I’m going to crush your throat into a PULP; you better hope that it’s just FICTION and not FACTUAL.


Before I move on to someone else, Mr. Fairweather, The Edge and James Edgebrook are far better than you and The F Word. I hope Gordon Ramsey sues your ass or, even better, sticks your head between two pieces of bread and calls you an idiot sandwich.”


There was a six-pack of beer beside the tree trunk seat that Pyro grabs; it was Budweiser. Apparently, it’s a well-liked beer here in England. The beer was them screw cap ones; Pyro grabbed a bottle before placing the rest back down. Twisting the cap off, he flicked it away and took a couple of mouthfuls of his beer.


“Meh… I’ve definitely had worse, I suppose. Talking of worse, we have Victoria Strader up next. The woman who thinks Project: Honor is trying to kill her, and I’d pretty much agree with her because she is in a match with me. You see, unlike your uncle, dad or grandad John Nash Strader, you’re not going to beat me. Just be thankful that it isn’t an Inferno Match because John may have won, but that won't happen again, especially by another Strader!


I go out there to receive the pain just as much as I do to dish it out. John felt what it was like to go against me, Victoria. Ask him, ask him if I’m like any other man. I hope you were paying attention to my match against Aiden Reynolds, yes I lost that one too, but when he broke my nose, that was the most exciting feeling ever. The struggle to breathe and the pain combined was orgasmic. If you were paying attention, you would’ve seen that during the match, without even thinking about it, I reset my broken nose and carried on wrestling. Are you willing to go above and beyond the lengths I am, Princess?

I FUCKING THINK NOT!”

Reach beside the tree trunk seat he’d made, Pyro picks up his beer, downing the rest of the bottle. He then throws the empty at the wall opposite him, the smile on his face so satisfying as he sees the bottle shatter. He gets his second Budweiser from the six-pack and unscrews the cap once again, flicking it somewhere in the warehouse. Pyro then takes a couple of mouthfuls from the bottle before placing it on the tree trunk crafted seat beside him.


“Kallie Reznik… Congratulations on your Tag Team Title win elsewhere; just know that’s a team effort, and in this Wargames Match, you have no one to watch your back. You’re so gullible that it would be better if you actually did have someone in the match on your side. That person could have been me, Kallie. We could have been best friends, but you wouldn’t accept the present I got you. Maybe I should bring that dead pig’s head to the ring, the blood dripping onto the floor as I do. Then when you get in the ring, I’ll make you accept the gift when I shove the fucking thing on your head, Miss Piggy. Savour that Tag Title win, because come Wargames, you’re going to get a reality check when I drop you on that cute head of yours, now OINK off!”


Getting up to his feet, Pyro grabbed his beer and walks over to something that seems to be hanging from the beam in the warehouse. On closer inspection, it was a fully grown adult pig hanging upside down with a hook through it. Below where the pig hanged, a puddle of blood clearly from the pig is where its throat had been cut. “I killed this for you, Kallie!”


Pyro now heads back over to where he was sitting and once again sits down still with his beer in hand. Now back to sitting where he was previously, he downs that beer and throws the bottle onto the fire. He then grabs another from the six-pack, now leaving just three in there; he unscrews the cap, and you’ve got it, like the previous two times, he flicks it wherever.


“Kasey Winterborn, you’re up next. Don’t really know a lot about you, but I have noticed that you have a couple of wins to your name. Cherish them and make the most of them while you are still able to. You haven’t faced anyone like me, and you definitely haven’t met anyone like me. It doesn’t matter what you say, whether it’s I’ve seen guys like you before, or you don’t scare me, blah, blah, fucking blah!


I don’t care if you’re not scared, and I sure as hell don’t care if your boyfriend Lil Petey cries when I disfigure that pretty face of yours. At least you’ll still have the bright long hair of yours; maybe he could make use of that. I could always pull your hair out of your head, strand by strand, Petey could stick it on his blow-up doll version of you.


Enough of you anyway. Up next, let’s go for the other two Fallout participants. I can’t be bothered to address them separately. All Kayla has done since joining Project: Honor is bitch about not being booked. Then gets a Dark Match and fucking bitches and moans about that. Maybe it’s just who you are, someone who bitches, or you’re on your period and on the warpath. You may well be the "Dreamkiller," but I'm "The Nightmare" that you could never kill.


I don’t care what you say or do, you’re not going to be the Tyrant of Project: Honor; that also applies to Jason Long and everyone else involved because I am the Tyrant of Nightmares, and after Wargames, I’ll be the Tyrant of Project: Honor too.


Speaking of Jason Long, The King of Project Honor, The King of Professional Wrestling, The King of Losing Twitter Accounts and last but not least, The King of Spam. Only two of them are actually real, and they’re definitely not the two that Jason and that ego of his would claim. The King of Losing Twitter Accounts and The King of Spam is what he's truly The King of. Just know that I’m going to dethrone this so-called King, and I don’t need an army to do it by force either.”


Still, with the beer in his hand, Pyro now guzzles down the third one and tosses it over his shoulder, and it hits the floor, shattering into a million pieces. He grabs himself a fourth beer and once again unscrews the cap and flicks the bottle lid away.


“Let’s get started on the Proving Ground competitors, one of which I’ll be facing because I’ll be the last one standing for Fallout. I’m the only one capable of taking what is thrown at me by the Fallout competitors and the Proving Ground competitors in this Wargames Match. This match is a damn clusterfuck if I say so myself, but that doesn’t bother me at all because it means I get to receive more pain and give out a hell of a lot more pain too.


Emmanuelle, Kagome Akaibara, Blair Regent and Alex Slayer are next up for the slaughter. You four have been grouped up because there isn’t anything I’ve found out about you that’s worthy at all to mention. As far as I’m concerned, you’re in the match just to make the numbers up, and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it to prove me wrong either. Looking at the four of you, it’s easy to see while you’re on Proving Ground because there is no way at all you’d survive on Fallout.”


A loud disapproving sigh escapes from Pyro’s lips that echoes throughout the warehouse. Now on his fourth beer, Pyro guzzles down half of the bottle.


“Ozy, Ozy, Ozy! You are someone who I’d thought would be on Fallout. You look like a damn monster, but you haven’t done anything at all for me to believe that you are capable of being the monster you look like. Probably a good idea that you aren’t on Fallout; you’d be shown up and proven to be all bark and no bite anyway.




Ozy, don’t make me fucking laugh. The only thing you’re going to butcher is your chance of becoming the Tyrant of Project: Honor. If somehow you get through the rest of Proving Ground who are involved in this match, just know that I’m going to show you what a real MONSTER is capable of when I BUTCHER you in that ring!”


Drinking the remaining beer left in the bottle, Pyro smashes the bottle against his forehead, causing his forehead to start bleeding as he throws what’s left of the bottle on the floor. The blood runs down from his forehead, covering his face in his own blood, which causes him to just sit there and laugh. “Bleed them thoughts out! Don’t let them hold you back anymore, Pyro!”


The laughter still continues to echo eerily around the warehouse as he grabs his fifth beer once again, unscrewing the cap and flicking it away to discard it. He has a couple of mouthfuls from it as the blood still trickles freely down his face.


“Indy Darling and Shawn Warstein both Champions here in Project: Honor, so I should really suck up to them, kiss their ass and then maybe either one will offer me a Title shot. That seems to be how a certain someone that's not a Champion yet seems to think how it goes. Don’t worry, I’m not stupid enough to think that, and Warstein, you’re safe; I definitely don’t want a Tag Title shot. I hate having to rely on someone else to succeed and be a Champion; it’s why out of you and Indy, Indy is the better man. That doesn’t mean I’m not willing to break his neck though, I’m willing to break anyone's neck to get what I want. I want to be the Tyrant of Project: Honor, and I'm sure as hell not going to let anyone stop me.”


After finishing the fifth beer off, Pyro throws the bottle onto the fire as he runs his hands over his face. The sickest of smirks appear on his face as he looks at the blood on his hands. “They shall bleed out, they shall all bleed out!”


Picking up the last beer and unscrewing the cap, Pyro again flicks the cap away before having a couple of mouthfuls of his beer.


“Last but not least, we have Mark Hunter. A guy who before Project: Honor has probably heard what I’m capable of and who is on mutual terms with me. Well, let me just tell you now, Markus Huntington, I don’t care that we’re on mutual terms, and I don’t care that you are a briefcase wanker either. I hope you don’t make it through to face me because I'm not going to hold anything back if you do. I'll willingly hurt you and enjoy every moment of it, just as much as I “Last but not


“Last but not least, we have Mark Hunter. A guy who before Project: Honor has probably heard what I’m capable of and who is on mutual terms with me. Well, let me just tell you now, Markus Huntington, I don’t care that we’re on mutual terms, and I don’t care that you are a briefcase wanker either. I really hope you don’t make it through to face me because I'm not going to hold anything back if you do. I'll willingly hurt you and enjoy every moment of it. Just as much as I would enjoy hurting whoever else it ends up being.


Whatever you do, just stop fucking complaining about shit and the management, there are already enough people doing that, don’t become a sheep Markie, be a God damn shepherd like me. The best thing you can do is be yourself, not try and follow these little lost sheep because if you do, you’ll be lead to the slaughter just like they’ll eventually be.


Just know this, Wargames is an applicable name, especially where I’m concerned. I love going to WAR, and I sure as hell like playing GAMES too. So I’ll see you all at The Crowning where “The Messiah Of Fire”  Pyro “The Nightmare” earns another nickname…




With that, Pyro finishes off the last beer and gets to his feet. He throws the empty beer bottle as far as he can, laughing as it shatters on impact with the warehouse floor. He then walks over to the pig that is hanging from a hook on a beam in the warehouse. Once at the pig, he grabs the axe from the floor covered in pigs' blood and licks the axe handle clean of the pigs' blood. Once he’d done that, he uses the axe to cut the pig's head off, and all you see is the pig's head fall to the floor with a thud. The last thing you hear is a creepy villain like laughter from Pyro echoing out through the warehouse.

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