[ANDREWS] On fire and pulling teeth (Xtraction Match)

[Steele]

"So... I've gotta play nice, have I?"

The disembodied voice almost seemed to echo in the darkness, the screen a pitch black as the distinct West-Country accent of AK Andrews spoke in a low, menacing tone.

"There are so many despicable things that I want to do to them all... Black, Dackle, Ozymandias, Grace... but I've been told that for just one night, we've gotta all get along. Direct orders from the higher-ups. Not my words."

"But just beware, my temporary friends, that once our Xtraction match is over, then our contract is through. I'll humour Duke, I'll play by his rules. Once we win, there are no boundaries I will not cross to advance myself at your expense."

"And let me just say one thing... this match, the Xtraction match. It sounds like pulling teeth. How fitting, as that is exactly what I intend to do to my opponents across the ring."

A harsh scraping sound is heard, and a flame fizzes into life in the center of the screen. The red glow of the match dances and casts an eerie glow onto AK's face. He slowly brings the match toward his face, lighting an amber flare on the end of his roll-up cigarette, which glows red hot as he takes a drag to burn the paper.

He holds the match in front of his face, turning it here and there to watch the flame slowly creeping up the wooden taper.

"It's such a beautiful thing isn't it, fire? Think of all the progress we have made as a species. So much of human existence propagated by the first human to tame fire. Yet, tame as it is, we are completely at its mercy. Wildfires strip vast swathes of land barren... an errant ember will decimate somebody's home and livelihood, rip through streets and towns and raze buildings to rubble... burn a person to ashes until there is nothing left but a memory."

The flame inches down the matchstick, threatening to burn the tips of AK's fingers.

"You can use a flame for light, for warmth, to cook with or to build. You can use a flame to light a beacon, to warn ships of dangerous waters or to call for help. And you can use a flame to maim, to torture, to kill... to entertain..."

Just as the match looks like it is about to burn out, AK lifts it up and the flame catches on something close to the camera. A bright halo of light travels along what appears to be an oil-soaked rag or wick of some description, that withers and turns to ash as the flame carries on along its length before finally setting ablaze two torches behind him.

From the light of the torches we now see the bigger picture. AK is sat in a tiny stone-walled room, the torches burning brightly amidst a tangle of razor-sharp barbed wire that hangs in messy coils on the back wall.

"And none shall be more entertained than I to step into that ring in the Extraction match, to be fought under Double Hellfire Deathmatch rules! Oh, yes! Those words sound like music to my ears..."

He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, a wicked smile on his face.

"On two sides of the ring, the ropes are replaced with barbed wire! On the other two, flaming torches! Only broken glass and thousands of needle-sharp thumbtacks could make me feel more at home! Bravo! Hats off to whichever sadistic bastard came up with this match!"

"And to discover that I will have not one but five victims to burn and tear and gouge and... ooohhhh, yess... this is a match that I have been waiting my entire life to be a part of..."

He takes a long, drawn-out puff of his rollie and exhales a large plume of smoke straight up to the ceiling with a satisfied sigh.

"And who are these brave souls who dare to step into such a hellacious match against representatives from the most violent, bloodthirsty, depraved wrestling federation in the world? Who are "Team XHF:AU"?"

"Sang-Hyun Lee, I don't know what to expect from you. Your face is scarred from a lights-out deathmatch, that much I know, but you were up against the hardcore specialist Kira Izumi... how did you ever survive? Clearly you are tougher than you look, but that's not very tough at all and coming from a man smaller still than you are, you should probably be very afraid."

"Rob Arnold... Oh, Rob Arnold. The one good thing I can say about you is that you come from the greatest city on Earth, Bristol. But that's where the pleasantries end, my friend, and I intend to show the world - and you yourself - that you should stayed retired, Rob. I'm going to usurp you to become Bristol's greatest export."

"Scorpion! Ah! Finally! Somebody with a name! Too bad though that it's tarnished from your pitiful showing at End Of Days... just like Rob Arnold, I'm going to make you regret ever deciding to re-lace your boots and thinking that you have even a chance in this match."

"Stormcrow... what can I say? You think you've got PTSD now, motherfucker, wait til you get through this match! You'll be waking up screaming at night, begging and pleading to whatever God will listen to take you back to the killing fields, to take you back to the Gulf, to the bloodshed, to the death; 'Anything!' you'll scream! 'Anything to rid me of these nightmares!' Only they won't be nightmares of enemy soldiers coming for you in the dead of night, snatching you from your bed... having to endure the pain of witnessing your squad mates being blown to smithereens by an invisible landmine... torn to shreds by machine-gun fire... They'll be nightmares of ME and Team Firestorm tearing your pathetic excuse for a federation limb-from limb, burning the flesh from your bones, stringing you up on the barbed wire as a warning of what can be expected from us!"

AK chuckles devilshly as he takes the last drag from his cigarette, throwing the tiny shred of burned paper to the floor, and pulling another freshly-rolled one from behind his ear. He does not light it yet.

"But there is one man on your team who just might have the experience and the know-how to carry the rest of you through a match like this... they call him 'The Messiah of Hardcore', Price."

"Now Price, I don't know what the fuck you've been smoking to claim you've been reincarnated and all that... but I definitely want to try some. See I think you're just some wannabe fuckin' poser who's come along and picked up the name, taken a dead man's identity and hoped his legend could stick to you because buddy, I've got some news for you. If you die, then you die. So Price, or whoever you may be- I'm here to show you who the new 'Messiah of Hardcore' is! And let's just suppose for a minute and say you really are Price... you've already died once. And now you're cursed to roam this Earth forever, right? So that must mean you can't die. Not again."

AK takes a Zippo light out of his pocket and in one fluid motion he opens the lid and lights the flame. He holds it up to light his new cigarette, and takes another long drag. Blowing smoke at the camera, he makes his final declaration.

"So you can't die. But you're gonna fuckin' wish you could."

AK flicks his cigarette at the camera, then simply stands up and walks away.

We see only the burning torches wrapped in barbed wire against the bare stone walls, before slowly fading to black.