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NOTE: So I debated as to whether I should hold off posting this until like Thursday or Friday, but that’s not my style. I know Chris is an amazing writer and will probably use this against me, but this is the best I got and I’m pretty stoked about it. So, Chris, now it’s your turn to make sure this shit is memorable. Do it up mang.


This ladies and gentlemen is what we’ve been waiting for, is it not?

Two of the very best in the business, going head to head.

One who is beloved by the fans, holding a title that is of no consequence to this match and hasn’t lost in several months.

The other, loathed by all, a former holder of that same title of no consequence, who hasn’t lost in several years.

This is going to be epic, right? This is exactly what all of you people have been waiting for. Fuck the battles, you want a war.

And who better to give it to you than Unknown and Lost Soul?


I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but how many times have all of you allowed yourself to think that there could be a chance that I fail? How many times have you been lead down this path to only be disappointed in whatever savior you throw at me?

Every time.

Well, almost every time. I mean, you guys didn’t think that Ravenous Sinc Mercier could really beat him did you?


Regardless, we let’s get this thing rolling…

Because it’s just a matter of time before you realize that Unknown was nothing more than a statistic…

Kick it.

Lightning bursts throughout the picture as the thunder cracks immediately after. Rain is drowning out every blade of grass, turning the soil beneath it into mounds of mud. There is no other lighting than that which is provided by the lightning and the moon, but the storm is making it difficult to see the scene with the torrential downpour blurring your vision. It takes several moments for your eyes to adjust until you can realize just what you’re looking at.

A hill. Nothing else around it other than some trees, brush and flooding rain water. But what’s atop it is likely going to be the main attraction.

Although initially it looks like nothing more than a silhouette, as you get closer, it’s clear that the structure is in fact as black as the night you’re surrounded by.

A church.

An unholy church.

Where the stained glass windows should have been are blackened wooden boards. Every feeling you could have that tells you to turn around and leave is ignored as you inch closer, to see exactly what could be inside. But before you reach the doors, you look up in hopes to see that this is God’s church. That you are not in fact walking into a realm of evil.

But the terror seeps in when you realize that in fact, it’s the exact opposite. The familiar cross at the top of the steeple has been turned upside down. Just as you had expected.

Then, you realize what you must do.

Run. That’s what your head and heart both tell you. But your body refuses.

Before you can will yourself to turn around, the big double doors suddenly open. Welcoming you into the abyss.

Is this the end?

What have you done wrong?

Do you have a choice?

Almost as soon as you ask yourself these questions, you approach the door. You peer inside but see nothing. As you finally cross the threshold into the church, the doors slam behind you, thunderously echoing throughout.

You continue to move forward, your hands extended on each side, feeling the prayer benches on your way to the pew. And just as you reach it, the strike of a match can be heard as you see a flame dancing towards the wick of a candle. Once there it freezes, just like you have.

And when the face of the devil emerges into the glow, you want to let out a scream until you realize you are no longer physically there.

In fact, you realize you never were physically there. This has never been about you.

Because this is all about him.

And what’s in store for his next victim.

Do you remember what it was like? Doesn’t this help you remember? There was a time years ago where you welcomed in the darkness. A time when you were even more enigmatic as I was. Nobody knew anything about you other that you treaded through the nightfall and used it to your advantage.

An opponent will always fear what it doesn’t know.

And an opponent will always fear what it can’t understand.

A few years ago, I would have been able to understand you, but know you? Shit you were a complete mystery.

Lost Soul smirks, the flame from the candle glistening off of his eyes as he continues.

But now you’re not the same man you used to be.

Before you terrified opponents. Hell, you even intrigued me. Caught my eye as someone to watch. I actually enjoyed seeing what you did to other people. The horror and havoc you caused were beautiful.

Now, though, you’re nothing more than Brad Payne. Someone who had an edge when in the darkness. Completely untouchable, but spurned it just when things were getting good.

You stepped out of it. What for, I have no clue, but whatever edge you may have had going into this battle was completely lost the moment you did it.

See, you’re still very mysterious, but hanging out in the twilight has exposed you. Maybe not enough to the rest of those that are set in your crosshairs, but I see your true face.

One of a coward that couldn’t accept who he was.

One who grew distasteful against those that helped him reach his pinnacle.

And one I’ve been sent to drag back into the abyss.

Lost Soul pauses as though he hears something in his head. Several moments pass until he nods with a smirk, almost as though approving something, and regains his focus.

You hide behind your eloquent speech and your metaphors to maintain your mystery to the rest of the world. It’s also what makes you a fan favorite. Nobody can figure you out, but they all believe that you are here for the greater good.

And there’s nothing in your actions to suggest otherwise.

I’ve been a poison in this place every time I’ve appeared. Taking out the best that EPW has to offer before leaving when there’s nothing left to destroy. I suck the blood out of this place and leave it dry.

When I’m gone, there is no life. It’s baron. And when it rebuilds, that’s when I return.

EPW’s cyclical process of being demolished and reconstructed will forever leave it susceptible to me. Only when there is nothing left will I become a ghost. Remembered as the man that left EPW in rubble and ash.

And that’s where you’re supposed to come in. Mercier, Lockness, Izrah and Black couldn’t do it. But it’s all been culminating to this moment.

You are supposed to be the cure to the poison.

You will be David and slay Goliath.

The problem is, when you step into that ring with me, your metaphors are useless. Your rhetorical speech will leave you high and dry.

And I’m pretty sure David was much bigger than you were.

The only thing that will be poetic for you at Date with Destiny will be how magnificent and spectacular your downfall will be.

Lost Soul takes a deep breath, gathering himself before continuing.

Seeing as how this is the first time our paths have intertwined, I would usually explain to you the dire position you have placed yourself in. That going up against this monster is practically a death wish.

But you are actually going up against more than you or anybody in the past has ever bargained for….

This time it’s different. You aren’t just going one on one into this match with Lost Soul.

No, this has gotten much more personal.

Lost Soul’s face hardens as faint whispers can be heard in the darkness, possibly coming from the prayer benches in front of the pew, but it’s impossible to tell in the darkness. At first they are unintelligible, but as his pause lengthens, not only are you able to catch a word or two, but you notice how distinctive the voices are.

How...otherworldly...the voices are.

This time I am going in with an army. An army that wants to castrate you for what you are. For whom you’ve become.

And for what you left behind.

It’s not nice to forget about friends. You should have learned to appreciate what you had because the powers they gave you were limitless. And when you turn your back on this type of power…well…let’s just say they know how to get even.

If you don’t know what I’m talking about, maybe I should take a page out of your book and use a metaphor to make it crystal clear.

You left them in the dark.

Forgive me if it’s a bit basic, eloquence isn’t exactly my strong suit.

But now that I think about it, it might actually not be a metaphor in this case, seeing as how it’s actually quite literal.

The whispers have now reached a level in which they can be deciphered, but it’s still hard to catch everything as they all are talking at once.

...why did you leave us...

...come back...


...we miss you...

...we need you...

...we love you...

The voices sound apologetic, almost pathetic as they plead for his return. Lost Soul’s gaze begins to fade, a devilish grin replacing it.

They reward those that appreciate what they give you. Hence why I’ve been so successful. They’ve kept my bloodlust up and given me the strength to tear opponent’s limb from limb.

You should know how it is. You used to have that ability. But now what? Are you trying to prove you can do it without them?

That you can be a good guy, turning your back on what made you and getting by on your own talent? Let’s be real, your talent will only get you so far and certainly won’t get you through me.

It’s commendable to a certain degree that you’ve been able to last this long by yourself and I know you truly believe you could continue to do so, especially if you could get through me. But that’s where your reality is skewed. The size difference isn’t just a disadvantage.

It’s daunting. Overwhelming. You are going to have to do the impossible just to make it out of this alive, let alone with a victory.

And even if you do survive, you won’t receive sanctuary. It doesn’t work that way. Not in my world and certainly not in theirs.

Nobody here forgives and forgets.

The voices turn from pathetic to anger.


...nobody leaves us...

...we want our fill...

...we’ll drag you home...

...get him!...

...make him suffer!...

Lost Soul's grin still engulfs his face.

If it isn’t clear by now, you haven’t been paying attention. My loyalties will always be in the darkness. I will always do what I can to please the furious souls around me.

And they want you back.

Not so that you can use them. You abused that privilege. Now they want you back to abuse you.

You probably could have avoided me altogether had you just stayed where you were. In fact, I would have considered us to be kindred spirits. We could have put together a mean run on this place and cleaned it up much faster than one man ever could.

Instead, you’ve run from it. You bailed. And you’re no longer worthy of immunity.

Your fate has already been decided and the punishment you will take is inevitable.

Lost Soul pauses again, this time though, he focuses on the candle light as he speaks.

I’m telling you Unknown, this is the beginning of the end for you. At Date with Destiny, it’ll be all over. This sham. This rouse. This belief that you could have somehow done it alone. It’s all going to come to a close.

And while I’ll enjoy taking your life, believe it or not that’s all I’ll be able to keep for myself.

Unlike the others, you are not going to fill my quota. You are not for me.

I will not take your soul...

The voices are now at a fever pitch.

...bring him to us...

...we want his body...

...we're so hungry...

...fill us up...

...we want his soul...

...kill him!...

Sudden silence as the voices cease.

...they will.

Lost Soul blows out the candle as the voices return with their demonic laughter until the audio fades out.
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