----------------------------------------------------------- (Immideatly following Adrenaline) -----------------------------------------
The Scene opened up with Lisa Courier walking down the hallway as Adrenaline went off the air, more than likely on her way out for the evening. She stopped, however, when she heard the sounds of a struggle coming from the direction of the trainer’s office. She stopped, and looked down a darkened, adjacent hallway where the office is located and waited for a few moments, but heard nothing else. She stared for a moment, before shrugging.
Lisa: It must have been my imagination.
She went to walk away, when she heard another sound coming from the office. She frowned for a moment, and turned in its direction. Her journalistic instincts kicking in, she slowly started to walk towards the Trainer’s Office. She suddenly jumps back in shock as the door flies open and someone slams into the wall, before slumping down, apparently unconscious. She shrieks and goes to get help, but is suddenly pulled back and finds herself staring into a familiar pair of shock-bright green eyes.
Syn: Now, you weren’t about to, uh, go off and scream for help, were you?
Lisa said nothing as she looked at Syn in fear, noticing that mixed in with the greasepaint he wore, there was a large amount of blood on him. She turned slightly to look at the stage-hand that Syn had assaulted, and paled when she saw a large gash along his forehead, as well as blood spilling out of his mouth. Her attention was brought back to Syn as he gently cupped her chin and turned her head to where she was looking him in the eyes.
Syn: Now, as you can see, I’m a bit (Syn pauses, searching for the right word) unbalanced at the moment, with what happened in my match and all. Unfortunately for him (Syn turns Lisa’s head to where she is now looking at the unmoving form of the Stagehand) he tried to stop me when I wanted to go back out to the ring and have a nice, little talk with Christopher Flair and John McHenry; Something about me being in no condition to make that kind of rash decision, or something of the sort. I was a bit too preoccupied with finding a blunt object to hear the specifics of what he was trying to explain to me; but I’m sure it wasn’t something I wanted to hear.
Syn, with his free hand, pulls out a bloodstained tire iron from behind his back, causing Lisa’s eyes to widen in panic at what he may do with the weapon.
Syn: So I had to use a very, uh, unique method of mine to make him see my point of view. (Syn gazes at the tire iron) And for some unforeseen reason, he started to bleed. Badly. (Syn’s look turns to one of pure malice) Do you want to know what that method is, Lisa? I could explain it to you if you like, although I must warn you: It’s exceedingly MESSY after the first 30 seconds, but after a few moments, you won’t even remember it.
Lisa stared into Syn’s eyes and, to her absolute horror; there was nothing but madness and evil intentions seen in them. She slowly shook her head no, and Syn gave a small smile, before letting go of her chin.
Syn: I thought you would see it my way. (Syn gives her a small pat on the head, the smile still in place) Now, if I were you, I’d leave for the evening. (Syn gives a small, manic chuckle) I mean, you look very exhausted.
Syn watched as Lisa again nodded, and too several shaky steps back, before quickly walking out of sight into the direction of the parking lot. Seeing that Lisa had been taken care of, Syn slowly turns to look at the stagehand, an evil smile forming on his face.
Syn: Now that I have that little problem taken care of, what will I do to you, hmm?
Syn slowly walked over to the man, before coming to a stop right next him, a look of contemplation on his face.
Syn: Hmm…I could leave you here for someone to find... (Syn thinks about it, before shaking his head slightly) no. As amusing as it would be to see the reaction of certain individuals to this little mess of mine, I have a…â€Better†alternative.
Syn crouches down to where he’s next to the stagehand, before slapping him lightly to wake him up. Syn frowns when he doesn’t come to right away. He stands up, walks back into the Trainer’s Office, and then comes back out seconds later with a small glass of water. Syn calmly looks at the unconscious and bleeding stagehand, before splashing the water in his face, effectively waking him up for the moment.
Stagehand: (Groggy, dazed and confused) hmm?
Syn: Rise and shine Mr. (Syn reaches into his pocket and pulls out an ID, before giving it a once over) Reid. You and I have work to do. (Syn paused, as if just remembering something) Oh, and don’t worry about the little ringing in your head, it’s more than likely the concussion from either the tire iron or the wall.
The stagehand tries to get back up in order to escape from Syn, but ends up dropping back to the ground in a heap.
Reid: Wh-what d-do –
Syn cuts Reid off.
Syn: What do I want from you? Well, you see, it’s rather simple. (Syn reaches down and yanks Reid back up to his feet, then roughly pushes him against the wall, a small frown formed on his face) you see, you tried to stop me from going back down to the ring, and I didn’t like that. Not. One. Bit. Now, I considered leaving you here to bleed out and lapse into a shock induced coma, (Syn gives Reid a predatory smile) but where would the fun in that be, hmm?
Reid tries in vain to struggle and somehow get away from Syn, but he’s too weak from blood loss to put up much of a fight. Syn, who hadn’t even noticed the attempt, continues to speak.
Syn: No, no I decided that you’re going to help me get what it is that I desire. You’re going to be my bargaining chip for the evening.
Reid, still trying to escape Syn, tried to talk his way out.
Reid: Bu-but the show…
Syn chuckles darkly
Syn: Silly Reid. The show doesn’t end until it the last fan leaves. And, unless I’m mistaken, we still have very fan in attendance for whatever featured match that is scheduled. So (Syn pulls Reid along) lets go greet the masses.
Reid had no chance to attempt to protest as Syn dragged him by the collar towards the direction of where the ring was located.
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The lights go off in the arena, causing the fans to start murmuring in confusion. Suddenly, “Duality†by Slipknot begins to play and the crowd gives a largely mixed reaction as Syn slowly makes his way down to the ring, a bloody Reid still in his grasp and his tire iron in his free hand. Syn tosses Reid into the ring, before walking over to ringside and picking up a steel chair. Syn slides under the bottom rope and opens the chair, places in onto Reid’s chest, and sits down, ignoring the split crowd as he stares directly at the stage. He calmly picks up the mic he got from Ashley Sparxxx, and then begins to speak.
Syn: Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry to inform you that the scheduled featured event for the evening has been postponed. (The crowd boo’s loudly at that, causing Syn to smirk) You see, it’s being postponed because at the moment, there are some things that I feel are very unsettled at the moment.
Syn gains a blank look on his face as the fans all quiet down so that they can hear him speak.
Syn: You see, two times in the last month that I’ve had Christopher Flair beating in this ring. Once at Breaking Ground, and once more just moments ago, and both times, by a thin, bleached blonde hair, he’s managed to gain a victory over me. (Syn runs a hand through his hair, smearing blood and paint into it) Not by his own skill, mind you, but still, he’s managed to pin me two times in the last month; something no other wrestler in this industry can claim. And while I have never been one to claim to care about wins and losses…well, I can’t just stand by and allow this to stand, now can I?
Syn then tapped the side of Reid’s head with the tire iron with an evil look on his face.
Syn: Now, I’ve more than expressed the want to have BOTH Flair and the fool who has assisted him both times in a match, and tonight I got it. (Syn leans forward slightly, still tapping the side of Reid’s head with the tire iron) I want them in this ring again, but it seems as though, much like before, management will be a bit slow in giving me this match. So I decided to, uh, up the ante.
Syn abruptly stands up and kicks the chair over, before placing his boot right onto Reid’s throat.
Syn: Now, I’m going to give our lovely yet naive employer one of two options to choose from, because I’m sure that from her point of view, any choice regarding me often multiplies into many. She could come down here, politely inform me that she has heard my argument and will grant me another handicap match against Flair and McHenry, and everyone will leave the arena in relatively one piece. (Syn places more pressure on Reid’s throat, causing him to gasp out in pain) Or, she could come down here, predictably attempt to threaten me with something that I honestly don’t care all too much about, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand (Syn gives Reid a curious glance, before giving a sick smile of satisfaction in the pain that Reid was experiencing)….well, let’s just say there will be more than just someone’s blood on her hands if that were to occur.
Syn looks up at the stage, the smile still present on his face as he continued.
Syn: Oh, and you have about…another 20 seconds to decide. I’m not exactly known for my patience these days.
No sooner had the words left Syn’s mouth, Phoenix walked onto the stage, flanked by several security guards, who started to make their way towards the ring. Syn, seeing the security, lifted his boot off of Reid’s throat and yanked him back to his feet.
Syn: Ah ah ah - (Syn hooks the tire iron underneath Reid’s throat threateningly, causing the Security to stop) I wouldn’t do that if I were you. After all, the boy already more than likely has a concussion. You wouldn’t want anything MORE to happen if you were to make me a little (Syn clicks his teeth with his tongue, then smirks at the security) testy, would you?
The security didn’t take another step, but kept their eyes trained on Syn incase he made any sudden movements.
Syn: Good; Now Phoenix, seeing as how this is a matter that I placed in YOUR hands, I would appreciate it if you would kindly give me the answer that I asked of you.
Phoenix stared at Syn with a look of anger on her face as she weighed her options. She doubted that reasoning with the madman in the ring would work (She doubted the man had a sense of reason anyways), and virtually nothing she could threaten him with would work either. It looked as if she had no other choice BUT to go along with Syn’s demands. Calmly, she asked a stagehand for a mic, and then began to speak.
Phoenix: Syn, let me go on record by saying that you will pay dearly for this. I don’t care how or when, but you WILL pay. (Syn looked bored with her warning, so Phoenix sighed) but in regard to your answer, my answer is no.
The crowd starts booing heavily and Syn frowns, before Phoenix continued.
Phoenix: The reason I’m saying no is because I have another match in mind for you. (Syn raises an eyebrow in curiosity) Next week on Adrenaline, it will be Christopher Flair (Crowd boos) vs. Syn (The crowd gives a loud mixed reaction) and Drew Alexander in a two on one handicap match!
While the crowd seemed to love the idea, Syn looked thoughtful in the ring. It wasn’t the match he wanted, but at the same time why should he alone have the enjoyment of taking out his frustrations on the self proclaimed “Son of Godâ€. Slowly, Syn let go of Reid and appeared to be backing off – only to drop him with an Evenflow DDT! Security rushed the ring as Syn slithered out and hopped over the guard railing. He looked over his shoulder at the stage, where Phoenix is looking at him in fury, before smirking at her.
Syn: Oh, and by the way, accept the match.
Syn watched as security called for trainers and EMT’s, before he climbed up onto one of the chairs in the crowd and gave a crucifix pose, to the delight of the crowd. The scene fades to black with Syn looking on as Reid receives medical attention after his assault.