CONTENT

Title: AND THE ABYSS GAZES BACK
Featuring: Yeshua Pandemonium
Date: 08/10/15
Location: Unknown
Show: Victory XXXIX

AND THE ABYSS GAZES BACK
 
Parts of the screen slowly lightened to reveal what appeared to be the silhouette of Christ on the cross. The shadow of a bird fluttered into frame, landing on its shoulder.
 
The figure came into focus to reveal it was a scarecrow with a large black crow sat upon on its shoulder. The scarecrow was perched atop a rundown two-story tenement building, which was at the end of a dead end street.
 
The sound of a rumbling engine and booming sound of some mainstream hair rock preceded the arrival of an ominous black stretch limousine. The driver's side door opened. Out stepped a large black man in a white chauffeur's uniform. He stepped around to the passenger's side rear door and opened it.
 
A beautiful woman in a business suit exited the vehicle. Her blonde hair was tied back revealing a stern look upon her beautiful face.
 
“Bart,” she said. “Get my bag.”
 
”Got it right here, boss,” Bart said.
 
“Good,” she said. “Follow me to see our new signee.”
 
Bart followed her up the steps and into the building. He followed every step watching her from behind. The halls were lined with flickering jack-o'-lanterns. Bart limped after her up the creaky stairs to the second floor.
 
”Sweet Jesus,” he said. “Somebody in this building sure loves Halloween, eh boss?”
 
“When I want the opinion of the help,” she said. “You will be the first to know. Until then, keep your comments to yourself or you will face the back of my hand. Got it?”
 
“Yes, boss,” he said. “Sorry, boss. It won’t happen again.”
 
She stopped before a door adorned with strange voodoo paraphernalia. The loud noise of sex was coming from within. She pounded on the door and waited.
 
A bald, huge man answered in a filthy bunny costume. She pushed him aside and entered through the door to a filthy packrats heaven. More Halloween decorations, piles of junk, old newspapers and garbage filled the room. Birdcages stuffed with chickens hung from the ceiling. Overfed cats lay everywhere. Sitting among it was an ill-tempered conjoined woman, watching three TV's, each playing a scene from different porn film. 
 
Sitting next to him was a one armed tattooed man breathing from an oxygen tank. One of the conjoined women acknowledged her, and then went back to watching TV. Bart followed her down a long hallway. It was a taxidermist's wet dream, lined with every dead animal imaginable. A dead dog was crucified to a heavy wooden door at the end of it.
 
She snapped her fingers and motioned for the bag. Bart handed over the bag.
 
“Now go and wait in the car,” she said. ”I have got this.”
 
Bart limped back down the hall. She knocked on the door.
 
A voice from within answered, “Who is it?”
 
“It is Miss Smythe,” she said. ”I am the representative of the United Toughness Alliance. I am here with the contract to sign.” 
 
The door opened and she entered. The door shuts behind her.
 
A figure sat on a chair in this room. He was wearing brown robes with the hood pulled up which showed the black and yellow mask that covered his face that seemed strangely familiar. It was Yeshua Pandemonium. Beside him was another man. It was the midget associate of Yeshua’s whom he called Dobbie. He was dressed in a complete copy of Britney Spears “Toxic” video costume completed by his long beard.
 
The flame of a single candle affronted the surrounding darkness. She stared at the dancing nimbus and felt her pupils alternately contract and dilate with each hiss and flicker. From ceiling to floor, the entire rooms had been covered with scripture, thousands of handwritten pages torn from notebooks, plastered haphazardly on the walls, and held there by filth and grime.
 
She opened the bag and removed a bundle wrapped in plastic.
 
 “Give it here,” Dobbie said matter of factly. “I am Yeshua’s advisor on all these matters.”
 
 “This is it Yeshua,” she said bluntly. “I manage to pull some strings and have got your client a match on our next Victory show in London, England.”
 
“A match?” he asked. “Who is to be his first victim?”
 
Dobbie unravelled the bundle, revealing some paperwork.
 
“Your first match is against one of the UTA’s biggest talents,” she said. ”This guy is a UTA Hall of Famer so it will be a real test for you. Ron Hall is a big star in the company, Yeshua. He is one of the biggest talents that we have signed on our roster. He goes by the moniker of the Southern Rebel.”
 
Dobbie chuckled before he looked at Yeshua.
 
“Really?” he asked. ”A Southern Rebel? How much of a piss stain is this cretin? Does he not know who you are?  He consented to this match willingly against Yeshua?”
 
“Yes?” she said without knowing what he was talking about.
 
“He thinks by hiding behind that moniker that Yeshua will not give him a fitting end?” Dobbie said. “He will be defeated for his sins against the flesh. From the South he’s bound to have slept with a family member or two.  Being from THAT part of America they are all so inbred that they get more and more retarded the next generation on.”
 
Yeshua smiled a sinister smile from behind his mask as he looked down at her.
 
“There was a time when the slow and stupid were routinely picked off by predators and the harsh conditions,” Dobbie said. “These flawed humans tended to die off before getting a chance to propagate their defective genetic material.”
 
Miss Smythe did not look impressed.
 
“There was controversy in how my boy was brought here lady,” he continued. “The UTA is so full of ego’s that Yeshua will have fun showing them how to really compete without that level of intensity holding them down. They will be free lady. Do you know about free will?”
 
“Free will?” she said not amused.
 
“This Ron Hall,” he said. “Does he think because he is a Hall of Famer that Yeshua will be scared of him? Will the old timer think that he has an advantage because he is a veteran of the squared circle? Do you know what Yeshua endured? He has endured a hell of a lot in his life so far and this will be nothing.”
 
Dobbie got in her face, well after he climbed on a box. His face was a mere inch from her face. For a good few seconds they looked each other in the eyes. Evil seemed to radiate from both of them.
 
“It’s not a thing he forgets easily,” he said. “He may tell you about it one day, about the time within first the prison and then the asylum, and honey South of the border those places ain’t like the Hilton you get in this country.”
 
He turned around and shook his head.
 
“This company may be full of pussies that think if they shout loud enough that they can get what they want and Yeshua will break those pussies……Lube optional,” he said. “They will learn to fear that mask like everyone else that has had the misfortune to cross paths with him. To be honest lady without the mask even though he’s got those scars you’d get along with him but once the mask comes down, all bets are off.”
 
“And you believe all this mumbo jumbo?” she asked. “It is not just his gimmick?”
 
“His sadistic tendencies and moments of extreme violence will not go unnoticed,” he continued blatantly ignoring her. “I have a calming effect on him but I can only do so much honey. Ron better get in his beat-up pickup, put a bit of Freebird on his 8 track and head back into the mountains and hope that he doesn’t find him.”
 
She shrugged.
 
“London should be fun,” he said. “Have the UTA got up to date insurance? Do you think Yeshua will be afraid to put it all on the line to make his debut mean something? He will bring it all; he will use any weapon that he finds around the ring, even his own body. He has before and will again.  And he will be the biggest star your company has.”
 
“So you’re telling me you believe he can do that so fast?” she asked mockingly.
 
“Tortured and shackled away sent his homicidal tendencies over the edge lady,” he said. “An incident happened which facilitated his freedom and he escaped into the wilderness. Eventually he found his way to the city I lived in and our paths crossed. I was the first person other than his absent family that showed any interest in him. With my guidance, Yeshua learned to harness his anger and unleash it only when there was a benefit to be had. Yeshua began rescuing people that people had turned against, secreting them away in what used to be an asylum and transforming them into his Apostles of sorts.”
 
She turned and looked at Yeshua who had stood up and had craned his neck slightly to the side as he looked back at her.
 
“We moved around Mexico after the authorities thought that Yeshua was a cult leader with vision of grandeur,” he said. “It was here that he saw his first wrestling match. He watched lucha libre upon the little portable black and white television that we had set up in our little apartment whilst I and his other Apostles went out and earned enough money to keep the authorities off of our backs.”
 
Yeshua slowly walked up to her.
 
“America called and we managed to get our Green cards……..” Dobbie stated. “……sort of. That is where a visionary wrestling company approached us. I don’t need to tell you this do I? Do I? Are you not their representative?” 
 
“Yes?” she said.
 
“The world was dead but nobody had thought to tell it yet,” he said. “How would someone have the audacity to presume that it could keep a secret like that from it? That was the bare truth of it, and it pleased my charge. Oh, there were things to be done yet before that day, debts to be paid and webs to be spun or broken, but the weight of the inevitable had settled across the way and weft of the world. Time was running out, and the beast was all but bled white. All good things do indeed come to an end.”
 
“My friend knew of things like that as that was what drove him on,” he said. “He remembers it well from the times he was a Priest, when he believed in Jesus and all that mumble jumble bull shit.  If Jesus had been told he would go unto the Earth, and live in poverty, ostracism and torture and finally die horribly on the cross in the name of his Father would he have done that for you, do you think?”
 
“No,” she said. “He wouldn’t have.” 
 
“Everyone carries within their own demons,” he said. “They manifest themselves in many ways. The difference with my charge is that his demons are real. Not the petty that run wild in normal people but……………”
 
He stopped as Yeshua walked right up to Miss Smythe. His deformed hand caressed the side of her face but stopped upon the crucifix she wore around her neck.
 
“Miss Smythe,” Dobbie said. “That piece of wood, it confounds him. Suffuses him with mortal dread but fear is in the mind. He remembers as the nails were driven through his limbs into the cross whilst he was locked away in Mexico.”
 
Yeshua looked at the cross, despite his native horror of it, put out his hand and gripped it. Smoke rose from his hand, burning his flesh. He held on with steely determination. His face did not betray the obvious searing pain.
 
“Like pain……………” Dobbie said. “It can be controlled.
 
Finally Yeshua let go, and took a step back and turned and looked directly at Dobbie and nodded.
 
She looked directly into Yeshua’s eyes. Evil seemed to radiate from them. A shocked look crosses her face. She pulled back realising that she was out of her depth.
 
Yeshua mumbled something.
 
“What?” Miss Smythe said.
 
“Really?” Dobbie said to Yeshua. He turned back to Miss Smythe. “Do you not understand him?”
 
“No?” she said. “What did he say?”
 
“Seems like he has found his latest toy,” Dobbie said. ”His last one was……….broken.”
 
“Broken?” she asked before she realised what his intention was. ”Hell, no! I am not part of your deal to join the UTA. I will not come quietly.”
 
She threw herself at Yeshua who just grabbed her like a rag doll and slammed her to the floor. He stood over her as she laid their stunned. He started chanting in some weird language again.
 
After a few minutes of this a low humming can suddenly be heard, upsetting the chanting. Persistent and annoying at first, it grew violent, rising angrily in tempo. Yeshua pulled up the bottom of his mask revealing the scars around his mouth. He put out his arms as if in crucifixion; and looked up at the ceiling.
 
His mouth opened, and then it erupted. From out of his mouth like a black congealing miasma, at first it looked like an indistinguishable mass, then it became clear.
 
They were flies, thousands and thousands of bloated flies. All too quickly the swarm engulfed Miss Smythe before suddenly they disappeared as quickly as they appeared.
 
She sat back up and smiled. “Blessed be Yeshua.”


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