Silence...

[The Morning Star]

~{ Tuesday August 4th 2015
1: 19 AM PST
Location unknown }~

The second the camera activated it was clear who the video was for. There was only one person in the entirety of U.W.A. That used the type of camera which blessed the U.W.A. Fan base’s screens all around the world. The feed was plugged directly into a small hand held camera.

The camera wasn't held by the Enigmatic Michael Rivers however. It was the same feminine nails as was seen before. This time they were painted midnight black and the fingers were as pale as normal. The image jumped and shook as the woman shifted on the chair where she sat.

The camera was pointed at the doorway leading into a low rent motel bathroom. The light of the bathroom was off, but little bulbs of black light were screwed into the lights around the mirror giving the entire room a eerie blue glow.

Leaning on the sink was the topless form of Michael Rivers himself. The truly magnificent thing however was how the wings tattooed on his back seemed to glow in the black light. As if the outline of the wings had been done in black light ink.

The dark feathers stood as shadows but the outline glowed, as if by some mystical power. Most would know it was simply black light ink, but none the less, it was truly a spectacular sight to behold.

His multi colored hair hung down over his face and the remnants of the nights make up still lingered on his face. In the mirror as he stared at himself the figure in the background rose to its feet. It was definitely a woman. Blond hair and short. She was wearing nothing but a short robe, as if she had just gotten out of the shower.

The woman stood in the doorway, but with the black light glow, and the camera in front of her face, it was impossible to see her face. Only the curves of her body.

Michael: “I confess myself......disappointed.”

The woman slowly eased around the corner of the doorway until she came out of the view of the mirror but kept the camera on him the whole time. Michael reached out and pulled a still burning cigerette from the ashtray next to the sink and took a deep drag before dropping it back in and blowing the smoke from his nose.

Michael: “I broke his hand. SNAP....and yet no one takes notice.”

As he spoke the word “Snap” Michael reached up and make the snapping motion like he was breaking a stick and then giggled madly. The giggling however lasted only a second before his hands slammed down on the sink palms first and the camera shook as the woman jumped in shock.

Michael: “That littler piss ant Silver Baron.....gives Cole Hunter my credit!”

Michael then turns and looks over at the camera, a demented look on his face. Not inhuman, but simply demented. As if you were watching the documentary of a insane asylum.

Michael: “And then that little mother fucker has the nerve to talk about......”

Before he can finish the woman hissed through her teeth and Micheal’s eyes came up to where her own were and he frowned.

Woman: “Ah sweetie. Spoilers.”

Michael: “Did you know who you sounded like.”

Woman: “Something that FLOWS.....as sweetly as it SOUNDS?”

Michael offered this woman a faint little smirk and then grabbed the cigarette again off the counter and took another hit. With it still between his fingers he motions to her with two fingers and then lowers his eyes back to the camera.

Michael: “.....Thats why I made the deal I did. To teach people not to take me for granted. Silver Baron. Frazer Freeman. Craven. Hell, all of those little bitches needed to be taught a lesson. So.....i worked out a little arrangement. A little quid pro quo, you might say......”

Woman: “And how did that work out?”

Michael suddenly smirked beneath the make up and wealth of hair as his face was right at that moment clouded by a exhale of smoke.

Michael: “You saw Mayhem's end.”

Woman: “Quid”

Michael: “Silver Baron.”

Woman: “Pro.”

Michael: “Frazer.”

Woman: “Qou.”

Michael: “Craven.”

Michael offered her a little chuckle when they were done. He had made it clear he would collect, but at his own time. When he was ready. Planning is what he does. What he is best at.

Michael: “You may be wondering about my conversation with Father Goose.”

Woman: “Not really, but I am sure....the rest of them are.”

Michael: “Beyond the clouds he can hide all the tears. In his own little world, he's safe from the worlds wicked fears. However in all their hearts, they fear his demands. Their minds won't accept him.....”

Woman: “They will never understand.”

Michael: “Quite.”

Michael offered the woman a little nod and then turned and looked back into the mirror.

Michael: “I do however. I understand perfectly. I understand what he did to Jade......”

There was now a little catch in his voice and his eyes narrowed.

Michael: “I do not like it, but he has no crossed the line, so I leave him to his ministrations. I do however understand it. I understand why he chose Craven and the Knights. I also know why he chose Jeszika Gautier....They all share the same common weakness.

Busy bodies. Wannabe heroes. And there is no better taste then the tears of a hero who realizes that he....has lost it all.

HOWEVER! Do not allow that to fool anyone into thinking that I fear Cole Hunter. Or his Five. They are evil. They are twisted.....but at the end of the day they are......”

Woman: “.....Mortal.”

Michael: “....Yes M'Dear and I.....”

Woman: “Am....so much more.”

The woman had a little pure in her voice at that. As if those mere three words ignited a fire inside her that burned with desire. That seared her soul with lust. Michael heard the tone and grinned into the mirror over at her before shifting his eyes back to himself.

Michael: “.....Royal.....Blood. I will ignore them. For.....i have no desire to trust a partner. Not yet. And while they may be descended from Royalty, I am descended....from Divinity.

God trumps King boys. Remember that.

That of course brings me to Miss Gautier herself. Her very first match in U.W.A. since her unfortunate incident and she may.....end up facing me. Facing.....the devil himself. I cannot wait....to taste the tears that stream down her face when she realizes....she failed.

Failed to make an impact.....failed to make a impression. Failed to right the wrong. Failed....everyone who counts on her. That is all that awaits.....failure and sadness. Tears.....and agony. Agony....”

Michael reaches down and grabs two handfuls of the water from the sink and splashes it over his face, running his hands up and down his face, further smearing the make up that covered his face. As the water dripped down slowly he looks back up at the camera.

Michael: “And then there is Bob Brooks. Coming off a thrilling victory over the red hot Danika Bayne....he ran down everyone. He ran down Vince Jones......Sentinel, Travis and Danika. He ran down the Kenyon Sisters and so many others.”

Micheal’s voice dropped to a quiet whisper as he asked.

Michael: “Why not me?”

After a brief second pause he continued, now again in his normal tone.

Michael: “Am I not worthy of note? Did I simply get overlooked? Did he forget I even existed? The man who crippled the World Champion....i don't expect to be in the main event now. I don't expect the World Title....I simply expect....notice.

Someone to look around and notice that I am here. That I am dangerous. He took the title from Amy Zing and claims he is the rightful Champion.....i broke the World Champion's hand. ME. I will be damned if I will be over looked by a photographer who happens to be on a winning streak.

Bob, you think you are bad? That you.....deserve notice because of your bad actions.....by wanting to avenge the woman you wanted so badly to see naked. I wonder what you would do.....if you found out I didn't want to SEE her naked, but I wanted to MAKE her naked.

Not of clothes. No, that's to simple. I want to strip her of all she holds dear. Her self respect and dignity. I want her to never be able to look herself in the mirror again! I want her to look at herself and see what I have done. To her. To you. To everyone.

I want to sit and listen as all of you scream, tied to the stakes as fire dances over your flesh. I want to SMELL you, as the sweat rolls down your bodies as you shiver in terror as the thought of what is going to happen.

And you think.....people should....fear....you?”

The woman holding the camera couldn't help but giggle at that and Michael again lowered his head and splashed water on his face to wash the make up off and then looked up again.

Michael: “There are still so many possibilities. Ashley. Bethany. Vince. Frazer. Silver Baron himself. Craven. Sentinel. Kyle Travis....oh....the possibilities are endless. All I know for sure.....is that I will not fail. I cannot.....this is my Kingdom now.....and it's about time the peasants realized it.

Realize....or I will have to start leaving a trail of bodies in my wake. I will not make some fake show of force. Or brag about the things I have done. I.....don't have to. My actions here will speak for themselves.

Broken Hands. Broken Psyches. After last weeks promise and the beating that followed.....Broken friendships. I leave a trail of broken toys in my wake. This is not a threat....this is an example of the things I have done. The results of my own actions.

Or....the ones you know about. If you only knew the truth.....in time I suppose. I am growing.....impatient. Irritated by people's impertinence. The time draws closer....if only to bring the one thing this world so desperately needs.”

Michael then turns and grabs a towel off the rack and dries his now make up free face and then looks directly into the camera.

Michael: “Silence. This world needs......”

The final word wasn't spoken. Like so many others times in his life he allowed his actions to speak for him. When he reached out and grasped the cords on the back on the camera and pulled them to darkness, he literally gave the world.....Silence.