Truth, Consequences and Championships: Part I

[Zachariah Blood]

The main floor of the upscale hotel is quiet in the early morning hours, the pristine marble floors and glass-topped tables devoid of fingerprints or other stains serving as proof that the cleaning detail here does a bang-up job. A raven-haired woman stands behind the main desk, going over the morning's paperwork while the prattle of some talking head on a random news station is heard over in the lounge area. We turn our attention this way, seeing only two occupants of the area at present. One is an older woman setting out items for the guests' breakfast and the other is the one and only Tyler Harrison, The Unforgiven's newest pledge for lack of a better term. It's a rare quiet moment for the young man, sipping coffee from a mug and idly doing the crossword in the day's paper. A nibbled-at muffin, blueberry from the looks of it, rests on a small plate with some butter still soaking into the top just to the right of his hand. From time to time he looks up from his scribbling but then turns right back to the paper. The woman setting up breakfast comes over to him, briefly disturbing him.

Cook: Can I get you anything, dear?"

She has a kind of grandmotherly air that puts a person at ease. Tyler looks up at her with a small smile and shakes his head.

Tyler Harrison: "Nah, not gonna be here too much longer. The life and times of a soon-to-be-championship wrestling team, ma'am: always on the go!"

Cook: "Oh, you came in with that pair the previous evening. They're a dangerous-looking twosome, dear. You sure you can trust them?"

The woman was too perceptive for Tyler's liking but he brushed off the concern with a shrug.

Tyler Harrison: "They need me, though. Would be lost without me."

He flashes her a grin when out of the corner of his eye he sees something in the parking lot...something that makes that smile disappear and has him standing so quickly that he nearly upsets his chair.

Tyler Harrison: "Son of a...I thought they were just yanking my chain! Shit!"

Leaving the cook standing there dumbfounded, Tyler bolts out of the lounge and skids on one foot almost comically as he darts toward the elevators. A large, bald man in a black suit gets out of one side of a black SUV in the parking lot, holding the rear passenger door open for a woman in white wearing a hooded cloak over her dress. From the driver's side steps a mountain of a man in black jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt, said hood drawn up and over his features. Tyler jams the 'Up' button several times before the door dings and he practically dives into the car, jabbing the '6' button over and over.

Tyler Harrison: "Come on, come on, come on...!"

Inexorably, the car arrives at the destined floor. Tyler glances but once at the room directory before dashing down the hallway to his right. He comes to room 611 and slides the card he was given into the slot. He pulls it free when the light turns green and bursts into the room, face-to-face with a sight he hadn't expected.

In the room's queen-sized bed lay Lady Rayne, the sheets drawn up to her chest but no higher, one leg extended from under the covers and draped over the top. She looks almost angelic in her slumber but from the looks of things...well...that sheet's probably all she's wearing. Next to her, resting on his stomach with his bare back in plain sight is Zachariah Blood, the so-called incantation tattooed along the length of his spine in plain sight. He's the first to open his eyes and, upon seeing Tyler standing there, he snarls like an animal. Tyler, not realizing he's staring at the still-sleeping Rayne, backs up against the wall as Blood rolls out of bed and glares at him.

Zachariah Blood: "What the fuck time is it, Harrison?! And what the HELL are you doing in here?!"

Tyler tries to splutter out a reply but when it isn't fast enough for the Masochist's liking he grabs Tyler by the collar of his shirt and shoves him back against the wall firmly.

Zachariah Blood: "Boy, you'd better answer me..."

Tyler Harrison: "C-Car! Black! Two guys in black and one woman in white! Y-You told me t-to..."

Lady Rayne: "Pet...?"

Rayne's sleep-thickened voice sounds as she sits up, only cognizant enough to put an arm across her chest to keep the sheet from dropping. Zachariah, staring into Tyler's eyes, goes dead silent at the stuttered words. In seconds his hands are off the young man and he's darting into the other room. Rayne watches this curiously, then turns to Tyler with a smirk. The way her wild, unbrushed hair falls about her face and shoulders is dangerously alluring and she knows she can toy with the young Harrison.

Lady Rayne: "What, Tyler? Like what you see?"

Tyler Harrison: "I, ah...oh, shit...there's people here like you talked about! What're we gonna do?!"

Her smile fades immediately and her attention snaps to the room Zachariah ran into.

Lady Rayne: "Zachariah!"

Zachariah Blood: "I know! I'm getting out shit together! Tyler, make yourself useful and stand watch outside the door!"

Tyler Harrison: "Stand watch?! Isn't that a little, I don't know, conspicuous?!"

Lady Rayne: "Get your ASS out there, boy! NOW! If you see them, whistle as inconspicuously as possible and head for the car!"

He almost trips over himself in his haste to reply, does Tyler. Zachariah comes out of the back room in his cargos and a long-sleeved t-shirt. Rayne darts in after he exits, still holding the sheet around herself. As he throws their things into one of the duffel bags, Zachariah can be heard cursing to himself. Rayne dispels any illusions of women taking too long to get ready by being fully dressed in less than two minutes, stepping out in jeans and a tight black top under her leather jacket, their other bag over her shoulder.

Lady Rayne: "They know! I told you this would happen!"

Zachariah Blood: "Not the time, Mistress! There's only three of them but it sounds like one of them is the big man! We need to get out of here yesterday! If it ain't important, leave it!"

Lady Rayne: "I already have everything put in! Let's just go!"

The two bolt for the door just as Tyler is about to whistle for them. Up the steps are the two black-clad man mountains and the woman in white. The bald man in sunglasses points at the three, shouting in an Italian-accented voice.

Alessandro: "Traitors! Hold it where you are!"

Tyler Harrison: "SHIT!"

Zachariah Blood: "Move your asses!"

They bolt for the steps at the end of the hall. Seeing that they're escaping, the others give chase. Tyler, Zachariah and Rayne have a head start but not by much. Zachariah is taking steps two or three at a time while Rayne's rapid pace lets her keep up with him. They're nearing the bottom when Tyler almost goes ass over teakettle thanks to a cleaning cart left by one of the lower doors. Zachariah yells over his shoulder, the footsteps of the other three coming after them growing louder.

Zachariah Blood: "Fall behind and we'll leave your ass, Tyler!"

Scrambling up, Tyler snatches a broom and a mop from the cart as he catches up to Rayne and Blood, bolting out the door with them. Both give him a look as he fiddles with the cleaning utensils but get it when he slides them between the handle of the door and the wall. It would buy them a few minutes and the three head for their car parked a few spaces from that particular exit. Tyler hops in the driver's seat and guns the engine and no sooner does Rayne's door close (Zachariah already in the front) than does Harrison floor it, peeling out of the parking lot in a hot rush. There's nothing but dust left behind when the big man in the hoodie busts through the door, splintering the handles of mop and broom. He stares after the cloud of dust in their passing and mutters something under his breath sharply. The woman in white turns to Alessandro in response.

Woman in White: "Call Faust and tell him they got away. We move on to Plan B."

Alessandro: "As you direct, Priestess."

The woman turns to the other man in black and wraps her arms around one of his, rubbing her cheek against his bicep soothingly.

Woman in White: "We'll find them...don't worry."

The man nods only once as we fade to black briefly...

---

...and return to a much calmer scene, one set closer to One Night in Hell. Lady Rayne is pacing back and forth in what looks like a gym set up in the backstage area of the Tokyo Dome for use by the stars of APW. Her silky black trench flows out behind her with every step, the white button-down top and tight leather pants giving her a look of power and control even if her actions don't show much. Zachariah, meanwhile, in black tank top and red shorts, is doing a set of lat pull-downs within sight of his Mistress's pacing. After two sets (that we're privy to), he finally lets the weight slide quietly back into place and turns to stare at Rayne.

Zachariah Blood: "Stop dwelling on it."

Lady Rayne: "Don't tell me what to do, pet. Remember your place."

He smirks briefly, but doesn't press the issue. He instead towels himself off a bit before taking a draw from his water bottle.

Lady Rayne: "...how in all hell did they find us?"

Zachariah Blood: "Doesn't matter. They did. Now we react accordingly."

Lady Rayne: "How can you be so blasé about this?!"

Blasé is one word for it. Nonchalant or outright lacking in fucks would be others. Zachariah looks at her over his shoulder with his eyes narrowed a bit.

Zachariah Blood: "Because in two nights we're fighting for the World Tag Team Championships. Forgive me if I put a little more energy and care into putting down four assholes on our way to championship gold than I do a bunch of religious zealots mad because they were beaten at their own game."

Rayne stares incredulously at Zachariah as he continues.

Zachariah Blood: "Our former benefactor and his cronies aren't going to be a factor in this match. We'll have to worry more about the desperation of men like Hopkins, Bailey, Hollywood and Savage. After the last several weeks even a fool can see that they're outgunned and overmatched against us. And as soon as Sentinel and Talon are here, we're going to say that to their slack-jawed faces for the world to see."

Lady Rayne: "That was too close, pet. If Tyler hadn't thought fast, and you know how much of my mind that blew, we wouldn't be here to become champions."

Shaking his head, Zachariah folds his arms and stares up at the lights.

Zachariah Blood: "He's sharper than he lets on. At least, he'd better be. If we have to resort to our back-up plan, things are going to get nasty real quick."

Lady Rayne: "After last time, that's our only option if things go sour. You know as well as I do that they won't go quietly."

Zachariah Blood: "I know..."

It's one of those rare times that Zachariah's face isn't twisted with some negative emotion or straight-up malice. It's a cross between thoughtful and concerned. Rayne sees this look and for some reason it calms her a little...or appears to.

Lady Rayne: "You know there's no turning back if we go this road."

Zachariah Blood: "That's never stopped us before."

Zachariah shakes it off, the near-permanent, wicked expression returning.

Zachariah Blood: "Our situation with our previous employer is a lot like that which lies with Dying Breed and NewGen, Mistress: they think they have it all figured out but they've been played from the start and are too dense to realize it. NewGen 'turning' on Dying Breed at Asylum and claiming that we did their dirty work? It reeks of desperation. Through the last few months they've had the shit kicked out of them by us and have watched while we did the same to Dying Breed on multiple occasions. Our way works. Theirs doesn't. So they use that tried-and-true wrestling method of ripping off someone more successful. But instead of swiping a look, a move or something simple, they've tried to emulate our attitude. It's happened over and over again since the start of the business, sometimes successfully, sometimes not. After One Night in Hell, the unwashed masses will see that NewGen are the latter case.

But maybe in their case it's just a lack of fortitude. Let's give them a little credit, shall we? They've been fairly successful lately despite us using their skulls to play Kick the Can. Smacking around the champions and getting a few good licks in on us where they could. In fact, some of the less mentally-apt odds makers might have considered them a good choice to win the tag straps. So...why stop doing what works? Why stoop to the levels they claim to have sunken to when, to hear them talk in the past, they didn't have to? I'll damn well TELL you why..."

He narrows his eyes with something resembling a smirk appearing on his face again.

Zachariah Blood: "Because they don't have the stones to go whole-hog on the road we walk. The losses have been wearing on them and they see their oh-so-slim chances of being champions fading away. They still carry the marks from the violence we've unleashed on them leading up to this point and they fight to hide the limps we've given them. Yet despite us taking our share of ass-kickings and defeats from both them and the champions, our pace hasn't slowed and our focus hasn't shifted. We're the only ones out of these three teams who have kept our eyes on the prize. We have everything in proper perspective. While the champions constantly look over both shoulders every other step and NewGen is milking the so-called uproar concerning their shift to the dark side without considering just what that entails...we've been making statements.

The Dying Breed, dominant as people think they are, could barely get past Sentinel in a handicap match at Overdrive. As champions, no matter how good our Destroyer is, they should have made fairly quick work of him. Instead he smeared them all over the mat and ringside like peanut butter before they finally manifested a few coherent thoughts and put him down. And even then it was a skin-of-the-teeth victory. Three days later? NewGen took a walk on the champs. Can't say I blame them, though. I mean, why support the losing side? They could have grown a set and stuck around but it's so much easier to take a walk and claim that it was a grand plan rather than take the beating you've got coming. Despite the albatrosses around our necks in the form of those fops Connor and Murphy we, once again, put the champions in the loss column."

Lady Rayne: "We've set the pace since the start, pet. A few potholes on our road to glory notwithstanding, those shiny gold belts are coming our way Sunday night. NewGen trying to grow a set and the champions' flagging determination are not obstacles to our glory."

Zachariah Blood: "As we've said from the start..."

At that point, Tyler Harrison comes in. He pauses at the door as Zachariah turns to the wall across the way, his back to the pledge. Rayne beckons young Harrison over.

Tyler Harrison: "Talon and Sentinel just got here. You guys ready?"

Zachariah Blood: "As ever."

Lady Rayne: "Bring them along directly, Tyler."

Tyler nods at them both and turns to leave. Rayne stares after him for a moment, her expression curious. Zachariah looks over his shoulder at the door, then at his Mistress. Their eyes meet and something passes between the pair without words. A few moments later, Talon and Sentinel enter with Tyler alongside them.

Talon: "Getting started without us?"

Talon gestures to the setup they have going on, some of which is still being set-up as we see once the frame widens a bit. Rayne flashes her older sister a sparkling smile to which Talon grins slightly. Zachariah turns about as Sentinel walks in, the Silence Behind the Violence looking considerably more intense than usual.

Zachariah Blood: "Speak of the Devil and so he sends his most violent demon. You ready for this, partner? We're due to put on some pounds in the form of leather and gold, after all."

Sentinel's lips curl in a nasty-looking smile and by the simple gesture of clenching his fists we can hear his knuckles popping imposingly. The sound and sight makes Tyler flinch involuntarily.

Tyler Harrison: "It's friggin' creepy when you do that..."

Zachariah can't help but chuckle darkly at the comment while Sentinel slaps Tyler on the shoulder heavily in, oddly, a welcoming sort of way. The new signee manages a small grin of sorts before turning to the door and the camera waiting outside.

Tyler Harrison: "I'm suggesting you guys use your time wisely. Pay mighty close attention to what’s coming. I ain’t forgot the cheap shot I took and my friends haven’t forgotten what it takes to beat any of you. With their ability and my brains, all four of you are going down and The Unforgiven WILL be the new champions!”

Zachariah Blood: "Enough yakking, Tyler! Get your ass in here so we can get this done!"

Tyler gives the camera a wink before ducking back into the gym and shutting the door firmly behind him. We fade to black.