"This is mine," he whispered.
He was gazing down off camera. It wouldn't be hard to guess what it was. And you're probably right if you did guess. As Daedalus backed up with the camera, the Global Coalition's Chaos championship came into focus, its leather strap gripped tightly in Tempest's clutches.
It couldn't be seen, but Daedalus was wearing bandage wrapped around his head, like they do in the cartoons when enduring a head injury. And he certainly did just that less than two weeks ago. The bandage was tied at the top of his head in a messy bow. Tempest, on camera, still had some bruising from the war he was involved in. Ironically, Koznar seemed to take the most damage from that war. He stood off in the shadows behind Tempest. It was difficult to see in the darkness, but his arm was in a sling, also not unlike those seen in cartoons. Two black X's had been painted across his eyelids. He stood with his eyes closed, as still as a statue.
Tempest's face was half-painted, but both of his eyes had red, upside down crosses upon them. These were done with paint... probably, representing what he did with Montague's blood. His eyes didn't leave the championship for a long time. When he spoke again, it was the resurrected JC Loophole who spoke for him. He almost seemed to grin as his eyes slowly rolled from the belt to the corners of his sockets, peering into the camera.
"And I took it... because I wanted it."
He set the belt neatly on the ground in front of him. The Astro Creeps were filming inside what appeared to be an abandoned building of sorts. It was hard to tell what the building was, or even its size. But it certainly seemed... vacant. And vacant for some time. The tattered and torn, stained wallpaper in the frame gave that away. Shards of glass that had fallen at the hands of a child's summertime dare to a friend glittered around the Chaos championship. Tempest knelt before it, and then dropped to his hands, crawling across the belt like an insect. A faint clicking sound could be heard in the back of his jaw.
"So... I ripped it from the grasp of the Magician. Unfairly?"
He hissed a bizarre giggle that whispered harshly in the emptiness. It echoed the way voices do in houses that just had their furniture removed.
"Or resourcefully?"
He stopped crawling, straddling the championship and gazing down at it.
"Try not to get too uncomfortable. This is all a show. Init?"
He shrugged and picked up the championship, holding it at eye level. Slinging it over his shoulder, he got to his feet and turned towards the camera.
"We'll get to that," he whispered. "First, I'd like to talk about my frustrations with Montague Cervantes."
He glared into the camera. His jaw trembled.
"Montague... I knew it would be a laborious task to take this from you. I prepared the way I did because I knew what this championship meant to you. I was prepared to endure tricks and illusions that I didn't see coming. I knew what I had to do to counteract your style."
He sighed, absent-mindedly tapping the metal plate on the belt.
"And... it still almost wasn't enough. Do you have any idea the frustration of knocking a man down over... and over... and over... and over... and he just... keeps... getting back up? Can you feel the... rage... that I felt when I would peer down at you, only to see you getting back up for more?"
He paused, never taking his eyes off the camera. Behind it, Daedalus grinned.
"You're a nuisance, Montague. You're a persistent little insect, an unbearable, frustrating ball of violence... And you're everything that I want in an enemy."
He grinned.
"I've been seeking you out for over a year, and I didn't even know it was you I was seeking. Already am I craving another bout of creative destruction with you. But it seems that I may have to wait for that. Patience... is a virtue. One way or another, you and I... aren't finished. I think you agree with me, don't you?"
He continued to smile as the camera was shut off. When it came back on, it was Daedalus centered in the eerie building. Koznar and Tempest were off camera somewhere, but their shadows scurried and danced about.
"Hello," Daedalus said.
"It's been some time since I've spoken to anyone other than Tempest and Ny-Otep. I'm reaching out to Tempest's opponents this week."
He looked down, showing some contempt.
"Opponents. Plural. Now, I don't know what any of them can say to convince themselves that they're in a favorable position, if we're going by even their standards. Of the four men in this match, only one of them won at Infinity. None of which were Tempest's opponents. I mean, I suppose they could say something along the lines of being hungry to get back on track, but is that so?"
He raised his eyebrows, as if someone were actually going to respond.
"Is Dave Rydell hungry? Or is he the tired old wolf going through the motions? The wolf that never led the pack, who always knew his place in the shadows, who watched time pass him by, but he can't accept it until he fulfills a false destiny... which may never happen."
He held a hand out, calming the backlash from his invisible audience in response to his last comments.
"Now, hold on. We like Mr. Rydell. We really do. But he's a disposable weapon. We'll pick him up, we'll inflict pain with him, and then we'll discard him when we see a better weapon. Take that... as you wish. But, we do firmly believe that under the right influence, Mr. Rydell could capture the championship that has eluded him all of these years."
He winked.
"All he has to do is... follow us."
He giggled, adjusting the comical bandage on his head.
"Six or eight months ago, I'm certain that many people would have laughed at that statement. But... I don't know, I feel like the laughter has become quieter recently. It isn't such an absurd thought that the Astro Creeps may be the answer to the question: How can I become relevant?"
He turned and paced slowly in front of the camera, one arm behind him pressed against his lower back. He looked like a lawyer pondering his next question for the witness.
"The Astro Creeps... we... liberate folks. We free them. And most of the time, it requires us to destroy to create... Usually, those that we recreate fight it at first. They fight it, but eventually, they let us free them. They shed their skin, and find their redemption through us. In the case of Dave Rydell? There's a path that leads to the clearing that he's seeking. All he has to do is, follow us."
He smirked, and eventually let it grow to a huge smile. He even giggled again.
"The other two in this match? Well, it's easy to overlook Booooooolz. But, we aren't the type to make the same mistake with others, that others make with us. Did you get our valentine, Randy? I only ask because it held a warning inside it. A warning that became a prophecy, didn't it? We told you. There is something inside the Final Girl that has turned her... predatorial. It's us, Randy. We're still inside her, manifesting and building our hive."
His good-natured smiling and giggling had disappeared.
"If you were paying attention, when you stared into her eyes, you saw us there too. Could you see beyond her iris, the knowing, unsettling eyes of the Tempest? Could you see the eye of the storm? Or were you even paying any attention at all? Are you too wrapped up in yourself to pick up on our presence?"
He shrugged, not unlike the way Tempest had earlier.
"You'll know our presence this week, Randy."
He glanced down, a sudden thought seeming to irk him.
"And finally, it seems that Sebastian Everett Bryce the third is finally sinking down to our level."
He rubbed his hands together, again pondering like a lawyer. He pursed his lips before he continued.
"Social media is a fine place to hide behind a keyboard, isn't it Sebastian? You get bolder, you get funnier, more light-hearted and playful. Well, we don't like that version of Sebastian. We don't think that version of Sebastian is very much fun."
He made a pouty face to illustrate his disapproval.
"We want the version that betrayed his partner. We want the brutal, unapologetic rage that burns inside you. The part of you that's afraid to rear its ugly head because you care too goddamned much about your image. It was, essentially, the reason behind your failures against Hide Yamazaki, a world champion who has been sitting on the throne for far longer than he deserves. But... that's not really our interest right now. If it were, our remedy may even silence that fat-mouthed manager of Mr. Yamazaki."
He held up an index finger. Wait a minute, it said.
"Now... do you really want to play this evil little game with us, Sebastian? Are you certain that you want to dance around us, indirectly making your jokes about us. Poking the bear, so to speak? We won't pretend that it doesn't delight us to see you've been so mentally dismantled by your rival that you've decided to come pick a fight with the likes of us. After all, we love a beautiful new mind to infest."
Tempest could be heard giggling.
"I imagine you're the type to make a sarcastic joke even with the barrel of the gun pointed at your face. Where most would be annoyed by that, I admire it. You face your fears with comedy. Those who are there for comic relief, however, usually meet their demise pretty quickly."
His face grew solemn, his eyes gazing deep into the camera.
"As you, or anyone else on this insufferable roster, consider stepping into our world, we want you to mull over something. I mean, really think about what I'm about to say to you."
The camera glitched, or seemed to, and suddenly Tempest was standing next to him. Koznar towered behind them, right in the middle. Tempest twirled a wooden baseball bat in his left hand, as if he were a member of the baseball Furies.
Come out to play-a-yay.
"We are the prophecy and the omen. The psalm and the curse. We're the demons that crawl through the cracks of time and space, and waltz through the corridors of your aching mind. We're the disease that doesn't have a cure. We are the dread in your belly. The panic in your head. We are the cosmic creatures that haunt your dreams and free your screams. We are Astral Creeps and Astro Creeps. And... holy Miss Moley, I got me a live one!"
He looked around at Tempest and Koznar, who helped him finish the last sentence as they laughed and giggled, sharing a laugh. The camera shut off with the three of them hootin' and hollerin' in their own amusement. Audio could still be heard as the laughter died down.
"If you'll excuse me, old friends, I've got a window to crawl into. If you don't mind."