Purge #1

[PURGE]

The screen flickered black for a few seconds and then flashed to another location, a Mortuary of sorts. On the screen was a masked figure lying, flat out on one of the mortician slabs. He laid there in just a pair of leather trousers and a mask which covered his entire face. Sitting patiently at the back was a woman dressed in a slutty school girl uniform with face paint on as she suggestively handled a Kendo stick. There was also a group of figures stood in the background. From ceiling to floor, the entire room had been covered with scripture, thousands of handwritten pages torn from notebooks, plastered haphazardly on the walls, and held there by filth and grime. The figure was looking up, through the skylight, at the stars above. Squinting trying to see them through the rain drenched sky. “So the sinner Havok; our new World Champion, the ruler of the roost as such,” the figure said. “You've got yourself what you’ve always craved for? What you’ve always wanted. You are the guy they are all looking up too. But mark my word Havok, that title belt brings grief, it is cursed. You now have a target upon your forehead. But the Purge can help you with your sins.” The woman had a look of disgust on her face. “The Purge will show Havok what sins he has by converting his followers to our way of thinking and not the sinful thoughts of their master,” the Preacher said as he turned and leaned his legs over the side of the slab. “I did hear from one of my congregation that you’ve tried to hide yourself away from the people now but I see the management of the company didn’t give you that option. When I convert the Skulls of Grimm and they become part of my congregation you will see what it is to be all alone but that is not just now.” He sat up. “But I digress with my introduction of sorts,” the Preacher continued. “The Purge have arrived in the United Kingdom, to Wrestle: UK to be exact. We have come to cleanse those of this promotion of the sins that are reflected within all of their souls. From top to bottom this promotion has sold their souls to some higher power in rise from the ashes of their former selves into this entity we see now.” He stood up and walked over to the work bench. “Oh the wrestlers think they have got a choice in this?” he said. “How quaint, how very quaint. We have come to judge you all, be it the Bastards for their blatant arrogance or someone like Donzig for his petty cowardice hiding behind the rest of his family.” Evil seemed to radiate from all in the room. Sister Jezebel just laughed manically whilst two of the brothers turned and looked at her. The Preacher reached out onto the workbench, and grabbed an electric saw; Turning it on the blade whirred into life. “The debut this week of two of my congregation against Neon Bushido,“ he said. “When the final bell tolls, when the referee raises the members of the Purge’s arms in victory we will have added them to our congregation. Neon Bushido will have no worries about bowing before their saviours.” He turned and looked at the camera. “What?” he asked. “You think you can deny me? Do you think you’ve got much of a choice?” There was a venomous look in the Preacher's eyes as they looked through the cover of the mask he wore. “This has got me thinking Mister Blood,” the Preacher continued. “Why should we just leave it with just these untested duo when there are many more in this wrestling promotion that need their salvation? Teams like the Skulls of Grimm, the Dark Star or even those sinners who even use the moniker of the Bastards should be happy to have their salvation shown to them.” A smile appeared on Sister Jezebel’s face as she danced around. “This is going to be an interesting show my friends,” he nodded his head and caressed the side of Sister Jezebel's face. “But I don’t talk all the time for our Congregation. We are a collective of saved souls.” He walked towards the other work surface before he looked into a mirror. “So like it said, it got me thinking,” he said. “I’m going to get a contract drawn up. A contract that will show the world that sinning doesn’t pay out.” He looked at himself in the mirror one last time before he turned to the camera again. “We all fall victim to the games that wicked people play,” the Preacher continued. “I am different because I have beliefs. I have spent the majority of my life trying to understand why these horrible things happen to me. Why me? Is it because I have a faith of sorts?” Sister Jezebel smirked at the camera. “So I can’t believe it came out like it did,” he said. “We have surprised the audience of this new promotion by signing on to bring my Congregation to the masses and converting the sinners to my faith. I have decided to try and make a name for ourselves in this promotion and not live off of anyone’s name.” Someone clapped off screen. “It was funny how people would be underestimating my brothers in my match this week,” he said. ”That is why being the underdog going into their debut match is no different than they are usually classed as. We have been the underdogs in every big match since we decided to become a name of our own and this will be no different. We are not like one of these other teams in Pro wrestling with being all flash and no substance as all of us are true fighters and the world will see that we are serious business.” He caressed the side of Sister Jezebel’s face again who laughed at something that had gone through her head. “But this will be an amazing first show and I promise this that we, the Purge WILL convert the Neon Bushido,” he said. “Take my word. The word of the Preacher is gospel.” Jezebel played coyly with her pig tails as the camera went to black.