"I have all of the characteristics of a human being: blood, flesh, skin, hair; but not a single, clear, identifiable emotion, except for greed and lust."
-Patrick Bateman
-----
Channel 13
There was a camera set up in a small room. A wood stool sat in front of a black backdrop. Bright studio lights illuminated the stool inside the lifeless room. Off camera, the door to the little room could be heard opening, then closing a few seconds later. A man wearing a mask stepped to the stool and childishly sat on it, facing the camera.
The mask only covered half of his face, and looked like it had been peeled from the skull of another human being. In fact, it looked like this half mask, from the face, to the hairline, and beyond that, had been peeled from the skull of Sebastian Everett Bryce the Third. The eye hole and the place where his ear should have been had been cut out. It looked like fresh blood was sticking to the edges of where the face was peeled. The other half, the unmasked portion, was painted in the black and white design of the Tempest.
He sat upon the stool in a button up dress shirt, freshly pressed black dress pants, and shiny black shoes. He smiled behind the Seb mask, steel blue eyes that seemed as dead as the face he was wearing.
"Can you tell us your name?"
The voice came from behind the camera.
"My name is Sebastian Everett Bryce the Third," he responded, as if interviewing for a job.
"I notice you have an English accent, Sebastian."
"Call me Seb," Leatherface grinned.
"Okay, Seb, can you tell us how you found the Global Coalition? We're dying to know where you came from. You know, where you really came from. Your secrets are safe with us."
"Okay," Seb said, clearing his throat. He paused for a few moments.
"I guess it began around the same time everyone already thinks it did."
"Your path to professional wrestling, you mean?"
"No, I mean, this hungering."
"Okay. Tell us about it. How did it begin?"
"I was twelve. You know, I never had anything to worry about. I was born into a rich family, never had any reason to feel the way that I have since puberty. It must be some sort of... chemical imbalance that resulted from a bad puberty. You know?"
"You mean, like a bad seed?"
"No, I mean like a bad reaction to a natural human process. It was the first sign that I wasn't... normal."
"Fair enough. What happened?"
"I was twelve. I knew I would inherit the family business. I was popular amongst the other kids my age. Everyone wanted to be Seb's best friend. Everyone wanted to see the brand new stuff that Seb got that week. I mean, I wasn't Richie Rich, but it sure as hell felt like it."
"Okay. Please... continue."
"Anyway, I went to this local wrestling event. And while I was there? I had an epiphany. You know, that's where--"
"We know what it means. Go ahead. Tell us more."
"Oh, right. So, I looked around, watched the guys in the ring, and realized, no one gave a shit about me there. It wasn't about me. In fact, I didn't get any attention. Everyone was so focused on the wrestlers in the ring, no one cared who I was. It was the first actual time in my life that I felt like I wasn't the center of attention."
"How did that make you feel?"
"It woke something up inside me that has been in control of me ever since. Call it lust, or greed, whatever you want. But, I had to be the center of attention, again. I physically got sick at that event. Just the thought of being second best, in any atmosphere, it made me ill."
"Some might define that as obsession."
"What are you? My fuckin' therapist?"
His eyes pierced through the man behind the camera.
"I'm simply offering an explanation for your state of mind, that's all."
"Yeah... well keep them to yourself. I know what I am."
"Sorry. Well, what happened then?"
"What happened? Well I went back home to my world where I was the center of attention. But it never quite left me, you know? That I stepped into a world where I wasn't the center of attention. It could have been any world that treated me that way, and it would have hooked me. I mean, sure, I stepped into other worlds after that where I wasn't the center of attention, but it didn't hit me the way it did the first time I experienced it. Obsession? Yeah, maybe you're right. Maybe I was obsessed."
"So what did you do, then?"
"I worked my ass off, for the first time in my life, because I was determined, obsessed as you say, to be the most popular, envied person in that world."
He paused, gazing down at the ground.
"I... didn't really tell you everything that happened that first night."
"Oh? And what happened?"
"I can't really describe how it made me feel, other than ill. And then I guess I blacked out. The next thing I knew, the place that the wrestling event was held in, was up in flames. I don't even remember where it was held at. You would think I would remember all of the details of my first time, right? But I don't. I don't remember the name of the place. I only remember the rage I felt when I was overlooked by everyone else for these sweaty, shitty wrestlers who could hardly do a hip toss. I can say that now that I've reached the status that I have, you understand."
"Of course..."
"Anyway, I do remember the screams. I remember them begging for their lives. I remember the way some of them looked at me, reaching for me, desperate to be saved. At that point, I was the center of attention. I was the most important person there. They fucking loved me then, didn't they?"
"Well, what did you do?"
"I let them burn."
He grinned behind the Seb mask.
"I see. And then after, you decided to train to be a wrestler?"
"Yes."
"Tell us about your first show."
"Well, I had gotten into really good shape. I had suppressed what had awoken in me for four years. So I thought maybe it was just a fluke. A one off, as we call it in the business."
He chuckled, as if he had told a really clever joke.
"I thought it was over, is what I mean. I thought I could be normal, and forget what I had done at twelve years old. I knew it wasn't normal."
"But it wasn't over?"
"Nah, not even close."
He sighed, gazing down again.
"But my first show, it was a little different. The promoter, he wanted to put me on first, to open the show. Do you fucking believe that? At sixteen years old, I had a perfect body. My abs were chiseled. My body looked like it had been carved by the gods themselves. I even had those lines down below my abs that pointed the girls in the right direction, if you know what I mean. And this cunt wanted me to go on to open the show? So, we had an altercation backstage."
He cleared his throat.
"I remember, I grabbed him by his suit and shoved him against a wall. I threatened him. He fired back that he was in control and he was the boss or some shit. But, he knew that at that point, he didn't have any control. He looked into my eyes and he saw that thing had awoken once again. He wasn't looking into my eyes. He was looking into the eyes of the devil. Needless to say, I closed the show that night.... and then fucked the most attractive woman there. Lost my virginity on my first show. You believe that?"
"Interesting. Was that all that happened that night?"
"...no. See, the guy I closed the show with, he got a better response than I did. A few even booed me. Can you believe that? Well, after I finished the girl, I went to his house."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I'll never forget that one. Looking through his bedroom window as the flames grew. When he woke, he tried to escape his room. But someone had wedged something in front of it."
He looked up and winked.
"I still remember him running to his bedroom window and our eyes locking. In his panic, all he cared about was escaping. He even left his wife in the bed. Fucking coward. He didn't even see what I was holding. Not until it was too late. He ran and dove through the window like he was some fucking action star. But real glass, it cuts. And it cut him pretty deep, too. I think it must have gotten one of his main veins in his arm because it was spraying pretty good. And when he rolled out in front of my feet? I started the chainsaw and cut him to pieces right there in his front lawn. Steal my spotlight, will you?"
"I see. And... nobody witnessed this? I find it hard to believe."
"He lived and died out in the middle of nowhere. There wasn't a neighbor for miles. The wife suffocated, and eventually burned, in the fire. And that was that. Honestly? That was more exciting to me than the wrestling show or fucking that girl."
"Whatever happened to the girl?"
He shrugged.
"I don't know. I never saw her after that night."
"Anything else?"
"Nah, not really worth mentioning. Not until I lost out on the family business."
"What happened there?"
"My father realized what I was. He told me how disappointed he was in me, how much of a disgrace I was to the family. But he didn't dare turn me in and make himself look bad. No sir. Because that would ruin his own legacy."
"How many people had you killed up to that point?"
"I don't know. A lot."
"Do you remember anything about any of them?"
He thought for a moment, and chuckled.
"There was one incident. I had risen in status at this point. I couldn't have been older than twenty. I had my circle of followers, mostly my type of people, the ones who were so impressed with me and my possessions. The ones who crawled on hands and knees for me. But, there was a rival, and he was starting to become as popular as I was. And his followers watched and I could tell they were laughing on the inside. And he was so happy with himself, you know? He was so fucking satisfied with what he was accomplishing. Well, there was a night when I followed him and his followers."
He cleared his throat again.
"They were going to a campfire or a party with a bonfire or something. The thing that stuck out to me, was how they were all constantly talking about how hungry they were. It was as if they hadn't eaten that day. Maybe they were fasting so they could eat his ass like they did every other night."
"Well, that's inappropriate."
"I apologize. So, I followed them to this place. Again, way out in the middle of nowhere. He never saw me. Of course, you never do see the shot that takes you down, do you? It was the middle of the night. Everyone was in their tents... or cabins... fuck, I can't remember what they were sleeping in. Well, anyway, I tied him up to some contraption I put together, so that he was being cooked over this fire. I left a note and then took off. And they never found out it was me."
"What did your note say?"
He nodded in response, smiling behind the Seb mask.
"It said, 'If you're hungry, why don't you try a piece of your friend?'"
"Fascinating."
"It wasn't long after that, I was banished by my father. I didn't care, I had my sights set on bigger things now, anyway. It wasn't his business I was obsessed with. It was this business. And I had to be the the most important person in it. So I came to the States. Where my hunger grows, and so does my legacy."
-----
"It's not fair."
Tempest was all that could be seen. Tempest and his championship on his shoulder. He clutched it.
"It's not fair that you think you can step into my division and take this from me, just because of what your name is."
He tapped the metal plate, glaring into the camera.
"And this is my division. It's been my division for fifteen months. Even those notable champions after me, they were molded in my image. I am their GOD!"
He opened his mouth wide as he said 'God' and his pitch became startlingly deeper.
"And I am the God of this division. What have you done to earn a spot in this division? You've spent your entire time involved with the World Championship, and you were tamed by Hide Yamazaki. And now, you feel like you need to get your confidence back up by picking on the Chaos division? A division that you undoubtedly look down your nose at on a regular basis."
He pulled the belt from his shoulder and held it out in front of him, showing it to the camera.
"This... isn't the World Championship. The sophistication that you're accustomed to doesn't exist here. Everything you know, it burns."
He glanced at the Global Coalition's Chaos championship, the way that a pirate might gaze upon his once lost treasure. Tempest had become what he originally vowed not to be: obsessed with an accolade. Monsters sometimes do have human traits. And vice versa.
"I've watched your confidence replenish. After failing in the main title division, over and over, you were forced to fall to a new level. It's ironic that you participated in the Level Up event a few weeks ago, Sebastian. It's ironic because you haven't 'leveled up' in quite a long time. In fact, you've lost levels of rank consistently, for months. I've watched you."
He chuckled, bringing the belt back to his shoulder and tapping it once again.
"I watched you turn on your Uncommonwealth partner, to try to get an edge and sneak your way to championship status. But... that didn't quite work out for you, did it Sebastian? No, it was Hide who benefited from that split, wasn't it? You created the monster of Hide Yamazaki, by releasing him from your grip that was holding him back. The truth came out after you split ways with him, that Hide Yamazaki is better than you! The truth, that Hide carried you, became clear. And then you fell further down the spiral."
He spat in front of him in disgust.
"That was supposed to be your moment! But you failed! Over... and over... and over... you failed! So you had to reposition yourself. And you began targeting... me. Because you need to reestablish yourself as being relevant. It's what the High Society needs to do, isn't it? But you're mistaken, Sebastian. This is an even worse decision than your decision to knife Hide in the back."
He mimicked a British accent:
"But, excuse me, I've pinned you twice, you cunt."
He spat again in disgust.
"So you have. You've defeated me twice this month. But on Monday, at Ignition, you're in my fucking world. A world that you High Societies have no clue what you're getting yourselves into. It's a different storm when you begin adding chaos. A pretty boy like you?"
He rolled his eyes, grinning behind his face paint.
"Stepping into a Towering Inferno match? This could make you... or it could break you. You're out of your element, Sebastian. I'm not going to just let you waltz into my world, and let your immeasurable ego take it over. Nah, not without breaking you. I'm going to absolutely pick your soul apart."
Sighing, he slung the belt across his other shoulder.
"I'll give you some credit though, Pretty Boy. You came looking for me. It isn't often that the prey searches for its predator. But here you are, begging to be transformed. Make no mistake, though, you will not be using me as a stepping stone to reclaim your status in the Global Coalition."
The camera zoomed out a little, revealing a black backdrop behind him. He stepped forward and sat on the stool in front of him. Stroking the Chaos championship, he continued.
"The Towering Inferno. A sane man would be nervous to step inside this structure. Only two of these happened before us, Sebastian. In my eyes, it makes this championship match mean even more. Engulfed in flames. To be... or not to be? There is no question. You'll find hell through me, Pretty Boy. I wish..."
He hesitated.
"I wish it was someone else. But I can't do what I expect you to do. I can't overlook you. You're a dangerous Pretty Boy, in your own element. But even a frightened animal is unpredictable when you have them cornered. Don't think I won't be prepared for that. You will have my undivided attention, Sebastian. I promise you. When the flames are extinguished, and the EMT's have finished tending to you, and carry you out of the arena, you're going to wish you hadn't switched businesses. You're going to wish you stayed home. And when I gaze out, holding this..."
He slapped the plate with a growl.
"You, and any skeptics, will realize, that I have established this division, as my division. And this world, as my world. Chaos will reign in napalm on this night."
He slipped into JC Loophole's persona briefly.
"And dog will hunt!"
Before slipping into... whoever the hell he's been since coming back from the rubble he was buried in.
"Sebastian Everett Bryce the Third... we may not be the main event. But if I have it my way, we will burn the house down..."
The farmhouse. He jolted back in his stool, suddenly haunted by the image. His breathing increased, so did his heart rate. His eyes bulged from their sockets as he hugged the Chaos Championship. Blood seeped from his mouth. He had bitten down too hard on something. He finally gazed back into the camera.
"Literally! ...you will eat these feelings of loss."
He tried to smile, but it looked more like an expression of pain. He whispered...
"Open wide."
He giggled, but it also came across like he was in actual pain. The fear of losing an object that he suddenly fell in love with was beginning to consume him.
"When I'm finished with you..."
His voice became shaky, maniacal.
"The Final Girl herself won't be able to recognize your face. You'll be sorry you ever stepped foot into my world."
He managed to grin again, blood stains on his teeth. He stepped off the stool and closed his eyes, breathing heavily as he tried to come back to himself. An audible click could be heard, before the camera went black.