The words echoed through Joe Campbell’s head, perhaps the most poetic summary of his current mental attitude.

He sat at his desk, which unusually, looked somewhat tidy, perhaps another statement about the direction in which his life was beginning to turn, the vodka bottles, the whisky… notably absent, clean shaven, a new haircut… he looked as you would expect from a man who owns a promotion well worth its share of dollars.

And for once, dare it be said?

He actually looked happy.

But then, a case study of what he was currently doing easily told the story of why.

Joe was currently doing what he considered to be, that which he did best; torturing people.

No, not physical torture… not directly anyway, Joe was currently revelling in his favourite pastime, mental torture… facing up to facts, despite being the owner of a successful fighting promotion, despite being absolutely “rolling in it” which of course, was reference to his cash, Joe had a pretty shite life, and one wouldn’t have to be the sharpest knife in the drawer to see why.

His wife, apparently… was dead.

The man who he considered to be the greatest, most profitable and marketable champion his promotion had ever seen.

Was also dead.

In fact, it seemed that death was almost a dark cloud that hung above Joe wherever he went, one of his only friends… ever, Tommy Gunn… left Asylum after several members of his family were killed, that was of course, after a short spell of insanity which saw him go on the rampage.

Everything ends? True… but with Joe Campbell, things seemed to end a lot quicker than nature intended.

It was somewhat ironic that in trying to draw in the ratings once again, Joe was slowly killing his two prize assets, two former Asylum champions, Archangel and Inmate.

Archangel’s was more, or less… broken in two, how he could stand was somewhat or a miracle, after catching it in the Asylum doorway on the way down, then having his entire weight pulling down on it, Angel’s ligaments, tendods… the lot, surely torn, in fact it wouldn’t be much of a surprise if Archangel’s knee had been fractured, or even broken, the fact was… no one would ever know, because Archangel… well, Archangel never was one for medical treatment.

Inmate found himself in a not so different dilemma, stitches all over his head, and a set of three broken ribs, one of which had punctured his lung, luckily… Inmate did receive medical attention.

But then, that would depend on how one defines luck.

You’d scarcely find a doctor in a prison, and even so… most of them were psychopaths who were in there for reasons which didn’t pertain to making people better, and even when you could find a doctor, scarcely did they have much sympathy for a murderer, let alone one who was give one weekly day on the outside.

Inmate’s broken ribs were taped up, and his punctured lung had been fixed, or sorts… he vaguely recalled waking up and passing out on what could barely be defined as an operating table, he was passing in and out of consciousness, because of the pain.

He wondered wether or not the doctor, was in fact… just another sick fuck, who sat waiting on Boris Borst’s list of helpers, for you see… even in death, Tyler Burton was convinced that Boris Borst still played a part in what went on-on the inside, Inmate hadn’t been given any anaesthetics during the short lived stitching up he’d received.

And whoever did the job must’ve been a pro, after all… when he woke up, his bed sheets appeared to be stitched to his stomach.

And yet both of these men, whom no doubt; should be residing in a local hospital, sat in the Staples Center, in Los Angeles California, mere hours away from another battle.

A battle where perhaps, their lives would be on the line.

Inmate paced around in his locker room, Nurse sat close by, remaining silent but itching to beg that he might sit down for a moment or two, for a man that shouldn’t be able to move… Inmate was doing a lot of pacing, most of this was down to pure frustration, normally… when something was eating away at him, he would take a walk.

That was before he shot Zoe Borst dead.

Now he knew that some 6’8” doughnut munching pig was stood at the other side of the door, just begging for Inmate to make a move, normally Inmate wouldn’t have cared, but at his current fitness level, he couldn’t afford to be fighting any unnecessary battles.

Archangel dealt with what was to come in his own way, sitting in silence… in the lobby of the arena.

It was questionable as to why no-one approached the huge individual, he sat dead center of the room, leaning against a pillar as the busy fans bustled and rushed past him, his injured knee heavily taped lay flat out before him, perhaps the fans didn’t approach him, because they didn’t recognise him.

But the majority? They probably knew better than to poke a wounded dog with a stick.

Angel Dalton stood in his locker room, he shadow boxed briefly, before taking some tape out of his gym bag and wrapping it tightly around his wrists, for A.D., this was game time… he was fully fit, and as far as he was concerned, it was time to make the step up and prove himself.

And Kodiak Vic Creed?

Kodiak Vic Creed’s boots were already laced.

Why?

Because he had a lot of hostility, and now… he had a reason, and a direction, to point it at.

Four men getting ready to do battle, all thinking about what was to come.

And Joe Campbell?

All Joe had to worry about was the outcome.

And unfortunately for the four involved.

Joe had his own ideas.

So Synn thinks he can just waltz in and take my fucking title again? He thinks that he and his Few will defeat The Hypnotic One? Well he’s fucking mistaken. Things have changes. The Few are weak, and I’m… I’m a fighting machine.

And it’s time to prove it…”

Hypnosis crept out from behind the soda machine, black steel pipe in hand. He could see Charles Harris and Drax walking towards the Few’s locker room. But one of them would make it. And then came the opportunity he was looking for. Harris stopped to tie up his boot, as Drax headed on… and the last thing Harris saw was the shadow looming over him.

With one strike to the back of the head Harris was unconscious, and being dragged to the basement. With Harris disposed of there were just two to go. This was easier than Ty thought.

As Impetigo was dressing up in his locker room there was a knock on the door. As he opened it, he was met by his tag team partner, fellow GD6K member…

“Super Hero!” Impetigo couldn’t be happier. The two friends embraced: “Damn, what are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” Super Hero fired back with excitement, “this is the day we’re allowed back as a tag team again!”

Impetigo looked pretty stunned.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“You’re kidding me?”

“No.”

Impetigo was in deep thought.

“Awwwwweriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight!!!!!” The two friends embraced again.

As they were about to celebrate, “Know Your Enemy” was heard blasting all across the arena. Impetigo and Super hero turned their attention towards the monitor.

Callous was making his way to the ring. His head was severely bandaged from last week’s fight with Impetigo. He had a microphone in his hand.

“I came out here…” The fans wanted to hear nothing out of Callous. They started an unflattering “faggot” chant. Callous stopped in his track. “Ask yo mama if I’m a faggot, then you can all call me daddy!”

There were mixed reactions in the crowd. Callous kept walking towards the ring.

“Now, I didn’t come out here to insult you people,” he grinned, “or your mothers…” He looked straight at the camera, “I came out here to issue a challenge to everybody’s favorite sodomite, that bitch they call Impetigo.” Upon mentioning his name, the crowd started an “Impetigo” chant.

“Pfff,” Callous didn’t like it one bit, “Impetigo, I know you’re listening to me right now, so open your ears and stop playing with yourself for a second.” There were loud boos in the crowd. “I want your faggot-ass tonight.”

Impetigo who was watching this backstage got all fired up.

“Yeah, you heard me right. I want Impetigo in this ring tonight… ONE on ONE. So what’s it gonna be? I’ll be waiting here.” Callous dropped the mic and left the ring.

Super Hero gave Impetigo a pat. “Show it to him.”

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna make him my bitch again.” Impetigo seemed real confident.

Archangel had encountered it many a time, such to the extent that more often than not, he could feel it brewing, he could feel it preparing to rear its ugly head.

And more often than not, it was the hatred that boiled within himself.

But not this time.

Archangel glanced about the lobby of the Staples center, he didn’t usually pay much attention to anyone, but at this point… he had good reason, someone in close vicinity was watching him, and plotting, he didn’t know why but he could feel the intensity in the air, he closely surveyed those whom passed by, an agitated fan? Perhaps… or maybe a hired thug, someone that Joe had sent in deliberation, someone without a face that could walk anonymously forth and strike him down, or perhaps even Joe Campbell himself… Archangel didn’t question that, he’d met a lot of strange individuals on his path, but the current mental eminence or Joe was something which he simply didn’t comprehend, Joe wanted to destroy he and the Inmate, but at the same time, he wanted to reap the rewards, surely it wasn’t possible.

But nevertheless, Archangel was quickly alerted, as an individual resembling Joe Campbell scuttled across the lobby, quickly glancing in his direction several times.

Archangel struggled up to his feet, and began his persuit.

Hindered by his injured knee, Archangel hobbled down the hallway, and followed the individual, if it was to be Joe, then he was playing a strange game, stopping every so often, almost intentionally so that Archangel could continue to track his movement, finally… Angel cornered him, not Joe… but suspicious enough to be questioned none the less.

“Did he send you?” Angel enquired, as the unknown individual shifted nervously…

“Y…yes.” The young man responded…

“No more.” Archangel responded “Tell me where he is, I wouldn’t like to have to take this any further than a mere chastising, for I can ensure you… the alternative is much, much… worse.”
“I… I don’t know where he is, I swear!” The young man responded, as the Archangel’s shadow loomed ominously over him.

“So be it, if you won’t tell me of your own accord, I shall have to rip the confession from you, either way… I WILL find out where Joe is.” Archangel finished.

“Joe? B… but, it wasn’t Joe… it was.”

CRACK!

The young man couldn’t finish, Archangel felt a sudden stabbing agony rush down his injured leg, the crackling of steel was familiar, he knew instantly the he’d been hit, extremely hard, with a steel chair, his leg buckled and he fell to the ground.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Three more wicked shots to the knee, Archangel slowly faded out of consciousness, however… before he slipped away, he caught a glance at three extremely incriminating initials on the Individual’s person.

KVC.

“Beat it kid, or you’ll get the same.” Creed growled, as the young man scuttled away in fear, Vic Creed looked down at the fallen Angel, a job well done… however, Vic Creed wasn’t finished… he had another name on his list.

Drax merely nodded.

Synn: Well go get him.

Drax stood up, the tower of a man ducking out of the doorway and turning to head down the corridor. But he wasn’t a tower for long. Hypnosis eased the Few’s locker room door closed before jumping on Drax’s giant frame, and choking him out from behind with his pipe… and no matter how big you are, you cant stay standing when you aint breathing.

Hypnosis had dropped Drax, and to make sure, he lifted Drax’s head up by his hair, and planted a right cross square to Drax’s jaw, as blood spat out and his head dropped like a rock. Hypnosis, not an idiot, had planned the whole night out, as he draped the unconscious Drax onto a girder and pushed him down to the basement door, where he tipped Drax, to join Harris. The American Airlines Centre basement was filling up, and there was only one man that Hypnosis had left to take care of.

Synn.

"Dark, Dark, Dark...." Token says as he grabs a microphone on his way into the Asylum. He walked threw the doors into the cage and lifted the microphone to his lips once more continuing his talking.

"Dark, I really kicked your ass last week didn't I?" Token said as the grin was still on his face.

"Just like I kicked everyone's fucking ass in that T.V. number 1 contendership battle royal," Token said a cocky chuckle came from his lips as it changed instantly as "7 Words" by the Deftones hit over the loud speakers to a look of horror as Dark stepped out.

"Token, as Dark remembers, you were eliminated from that royal by Synn," Dark said as he smiled the cocky smile this time, but as always Token had a reply.

"Well Dark, last time I checked, only big stupid morons who wear a picture of bulls on there pants talk in third person. And the last time I checked, you got eliminated before me, and I fought 2 on 1 in that battle royal most of the time, now didn't I Dark?" Token said as he smiled at Dark.

"Well Tok...." Dark didn't get a chance to finish.

"Shut the hell up Dark, I mean damn, when I told the world about your quote, PROBLEM, unqoute, you wen't nuts and wen't to attack me with your little knife.
But what happened Dark? WHAT HAPPENED!" Token screamed as what happened can be seen on Dark's face, a black eye... Dark stood their giving no reply....

"Dark, no answer huh? Yeah, I see the look on your face, your getting mad. Come on Dark, pick up your little knife and make a move on me, come on Dark, stab me..." Token said as Dark's hand's began to twitch in rage...

"Ok Token, lets make a deal, at the PPV it'll be me and you in a match alright? How about this, we cover the walls of the Asylum in barbwire, and oh yeah..." Dark once again didn't get a chance to finish.

"Hey Dark, lets do this MY WAY, since your way is always the loser way. How about this Dark, we'll use your little barbwire Asylum match, but we'll add to it. Yeah, let's add a ladder, and oh yeah, what you have to grab your very familiar with..... A bag full of syringes, full of heroin. Come on Dark, you wan't that don't you?" Token said as he looked at Dark...

"Dark says yes Token," Dark said as a look of happiness drew across Token's face.

"Ok Dark, stop the third person bull shit," Token said as Dark walked away, threw the curtain. Token leapt over the Asylum cage wall and walked back up the ramp.

Nerva (c) vs. Serena
(Women's Title Match)

After entering the cage, her music began to die down and the fans’ cheers came to a slow silence. “I know you can’t wait to fight, Serena, but as the Asylum Women’s Champion, I’ve got to make an address to the boys backstage. I just won this title last week, and I know a lot of you are wondering what kind of a champion I’m gonna be, so I’m going to set a post-match objective here. If I win here tonight – and it’s something I plan on doing – I’m gonna celebrate in the back and make out with the first motherfucker I can get my hands on!” Nerva threw the mic down, took her belt off, and threw it to the ref.

He raised it in the air as the bell sounded. Serena tackled Nerva into the cage and rammed her shoulder into the champion’s mid-section. She tried whipping Nerva into the other side of the cage, but Nerva held on and countered with a head butt. Serena held the bridge of her eye in pain as Nerva tattered her ribs with fast roundhouse kicks and then elbowed her in the jaw. She went to sidekick Serena, but the challenger caught Nerva’s kick, brought her to the ground and cinched in an ankle lock.

Nerva grabbed at her hair from the pressure, but she managed to twist her body out of it. Nerva got to her feet and saw Serena charging. She leapfrogged over Serena’s spear, but Serena brought Nerva down from behind with a neck breaker. Serena stomped away at Nerva’s chest and abdomen until the ref pulled her away and laid the count on Nerva. The champion got up at four, only to eat a knee to the face. Nerva got to her knees and stopped Serena with a vaginal claw. Serena broke the hold quickly but took an elbow to the gut and an uppercut to the jaw. Nerva ax kicked her in the shoulder sending her to her knees and then took a free shot with a roundhouse kick.

The smack echoed through the arena and sent Serena down on the mat. The ref applied his count, but Serena crawled to her feet at seven. Nerva stood poised, and then went for the Double Touch. Serena ducked the first spin kick and tackled Nerva to the ground in the mount position. She then rained down rights and lefts and soon after Nerva covered up instinctively. Throttling Nerva with both hands, Serena brought her up and threw her into the cage. Nerva nearly went over, but held onto the rim.

Serena came at her with a standing sidekick to send her over. Nerva blocked it away and then locked in a half-nelson choke out. Serena broke out of it by backing Nerva into the cage three times. Serena took a moment to breathe, but it cost her as Nerva grabbed her by her top and slammed her face first into the mat. In the process of the move, Serena’s top came off, and she stood up covering herself.

Nerva took advantage of the situation by nailing her with the Double Touch. The crowd cheered as the ref counted to ten and called for the bell. Nerva retrieved her belt and held it up to the crowd for a few moments, before departing backstage, for a little ‘celebration’

Match time wasn’t far away, and no matter what physical condition he was in, he was mentally ready to tear the opposition to shreds, what he didn’t know, unfortunately… was that his opposition were preparing to do the same to him.

Vic Creed stood outside a door, clearly labelled “Inmate”, in his hand… Creed clutched a large sum of money, flicking through it and smirking to himself.

“So, fat man… how many minutes would I get for say, two hundred?” Creed uttered, the police officer on the door looking up with a hostile glare in his eyes.

“That’ll get ya two minutes boy, would’a been three… but ya’ called me fat.” The officer snarled, snatching the bills from Creed’s hands, Creed glared back at the officer somewhat unimpressed.

“Yeah, whatever you say dough boy… hey, I’ve got another 50 here, think I can borrow that stick?” Creed responded, as the officer snatched the cash, and handed Creed the nightstick.

“Hey, is that a domestic problem I hear? Better go check it out… lardass” Creed smirked, as the officer turned and walked slowly down the corridor.

Creed didn’t knock on the door, he simply slipped in quietly, fortunately for him, Inmate had his back turned, strapping up his knee brace.

“Hey Nurse… pass me my tape would ya?” Inmate spoke across the room, he couldn’t have been any more wrong.

“No can do.” Creed snarled, Inmate spun rapidly, but not rapidly enough, as Creed caught him solidly across the ribs with the nightstick! Inmate dropped to his knees in agony, as Creed used the stick to choke him temporarily, before rearing back… and delivering several hard kicks to the ribs of Inmate, and leaving him for dead on the floor.

Creed opened and shut the locker door, before looking at his watch.

“30 seconds… someone owes me a hundred and fifty bucks.” He said with a smile, strolling off down the corridor as the camera’s went elsewhere.

Impetigo simply nodded as he headed towards the entrance.

“Kryptonite” blared through the sound system as the fans stood on their feet. Impetigo wasted no time. He entered the ring with a purpose in mind: finish Callous up for good. As he stood there on the canvas, he looked determined as ever.

There was a long pause. Callous’ music started playing, but he was nowhere to be seen. Impetigo was getting impatient. The fans were puzzled as well.

Then, Callous appeared on the giant screen. He was grinning.

“Hey there Impetigo,” he had one of those sick maniacal looks, “you thought I would waste a perfectly good match for a second rate show like this one? These people don’t deserve to see Callous fight.”

Jeers echoed all over the arena. Impetigo was really pissed. He was shouting for Callous to come out.

“Impetigo,” Callous snickered, “ you’re really dumber than I thought. Do you really think that I would fight you only a week removed from having my brain spilled with a chair?”

There was an asshole chant going on.

“Last week, you tried to kill me with a chair. I watched that video over and over again and every time I saw your eyes…” Callous sighed, “You were trying to play dirty weren’t you? ‘Case you haven’t learned your history, I’m one of the dirtiest players in the game. I created that style.”

Impetigo had a bad feeling about this. You could tell from the way he looked.

The camera zoomed out. Callous had been holding a baseball bat all along.

“Right about now,” Callous raised the bat for all to see, “I’m gonna show you the true meaning of playing dirty.” The camera shot pans to the right. Super Hero was laying unconscious on a chair. He had blood dripping down his face. It’s obvious he had been attacked. “Recognize anyone?”

The crowd held its breath. Impetigo was beyond himself. He knew what Callous was about to do.

“Impetigo, boy,” Callous paused for a second, “this is how we play dirty.” His whole face contorted with pure maniacal sickness.

Callous swung the bat straight at Super Hero’s head. The sound that followed was sickening. The crowd didn’t believe what it was seeing.

“NOOOOOOO!!!!!”, Impetigo cried. He got out of the ring and rushed to the back.

Callous kept swinging at Super Hero like he was a piñata. Every hit was followed by a sickening thud. Every time, the people in the crowd covered their eyes. This was too much for anyone to bear. This was just sick. Finally, when the madman have had enough, he simply dropped the bat, and left the room.

The crowd was traumatized.

Once Impetigo got inside the room, Super Hero was on the floor, bleeding from the inside out. “Call an ambulance!!!” Impetigo yelled. Backstage officials arrived at once.

Impetigo was raging. Amidst all the chaos, Impetigo got up. He seemed lost and confused.

“Callous… I’m going to kill you.”

“You’re gonna have to do better than that, Tyler.”

Hypnosis tore up the piece of paper and ran down the corridor, knowing he was mere seconds behind the leader of the Few.

Hypnosis turned round the corner and bumped into a figure.

The two locked stares.

Stares that showed they had a history.

Hypnosis & Deicide.

Hypnosis continued to stare at Deicide as he asked, “Where is Synn.”

Deicide replied, with the same evil stare still locked on, “You won’t find Synn, but if you want him bad, challenge him to a handicap match next week. He can’t turn you down if he wants to impress his Few. Plus I owe the bitch a beating.”

Hypnosis and Deicide keep the intense stare as Hypnosis extends his hand…

And Deicide shakes it.

It seems like the two have put their differences aside, to achieve their common goal.

To take out Synn.

Sure enough, Koji Tamura paced through the curtain and made his way down to the Asylum, after stopping for a moment to chastise the fans at ringside, he clambered up the steps and entered, once again receiving a heated response.

“I am here tonight, to make an example.” Koji started, forced to pause due to the crowd’s heated reaction.

“You see… unfortunately, Sterling Silver; the coward… is not in attendance tonight, this… is truly a shame, because I would have taken great pleasure in beating him to a bloody pulp, but unfortunately, it isn’t to be, so instead… I will call out someone at random, to fight me in a match!” Koji finished, receiving more boo’s, he paused as though he was thinking of a suitable opponent, but truth be told, he’d known long before who he would call out.

“Chris Credible!” Koji said with a smirk, as a short pause was accompanied by “Stupify” by Disturbed, and the entrance of Credible, who marched down to the Asylum scratching his head, Credible clambered in, and fearlessly walked over to Koji.

“Uh… I have a match? And stuff?” Credible said innocently.

“Not quite.” Koji started in response. “I have a match, you on the other hand… have a beating.” Koji said, Credible looked confused, but didn’t have long to do so, as he was greeted with the sound of the bell tolling, and a swift kick to the side of the head by Koji.

Credible scrambled across the Asylum, but soon found himself in the grasp of Koji, who hurled him head first into the Asylum mesh, busting him wide open! Koji dragged the now bleeding Credible up by the hair, and sent a hard knee into his groin!

The crowd booed Koji intensely, but finally… it appeared that he’d decided that he was wasting his time, lifting Credible, and hurling him out of the Asylum with a Harai-Goshi! Credible tumbled, clattering against the steps on the way to the arena floor, as "Devil With The King's Card" by Machine Head plaed once more, and a disgruntled Koji made his way to the back, he’d made his example, directing his clear hate message toward Sterling Silver.

Perhaps, or maybe he was simply reacting to what he’d seen occur just minutes ago.

ArchAngel vs. Inmate vs. A.D. vs. Kodiak Vic Creed

The ominous steel structure above the Asylum, slowly lowered down, finally crashing into position with a screeching of clashing steel, as it did so, “Walk” by Pantera instantly hit up, as the crowd rose to their feet to cheer Kodiak Vic Creed, would the response have been the same, had they seen his previous actions? Likely not… but the towering Creed made his way down to the enclosed Asylum, clambering up the steel steps and through the door, before turning and awaiting his next target.

“Between Angels and Insects” By Papa Roach.

The crowd reached fever pitch, A.D. marched through the curtain… and down to the Asylum, he made his way up the steps, and through the door… before turning just as Creed did, to await the next arrival.

CRUNCH!

There was to be no waiting, Creed simply drove through A.D., slamming him across the back of the skull with a wicked lariat that knocked him to his knee’s! A.D. didn’t get much time to recover, as Creed picked him up by the hair, and rammed him skull first into the Asylum mesh! Creed repeated the process, the crowd now taking up a difference of opinion and booing his actions, as he finally kicked A.D. between the legs and dropped him to the ground!

Creed clambered partially up the side of the Asylum mesh, somewhat to the crowds disbelief, he appeared to be looking to hit the Creedzillinator, mere seconds into the match! He was however, cut extremely short.

The crowd once again, were exploding with cheers!

Archangel, seemingly from nowhere, dived out of the crowd and began his participation in the match, first plucking Creed from the Asylum mesh wall, and tossing him effortlessly across the ring! Creed struggled to his feet, as Archangel rushed him! But Creed was able to capitalise, simply spearing the injured leg from beneath Archangel! Creed rose back to his feet.
WHACK!

A MASSIVE right hand from A.D. sent Creed reeling! He rocked back and collapsed against the Asylum mesh wall, as A.D. wiped the blood from his nose, before rushing and driving a knee into the face of KVC! The crowd erupted, as A.D. proceeded to lay into Creed with kicks, punches… and just about everything possible, this however way the Asylum, and everyone… helping or not, was fair game.

A.D. suddenly found himself unable to breathe, the reason for this was the vice like grip which Archangel had placed around his throat! The crowd were none too pleased, but their reaction didn’t matter to Archangel, who took A.D. and tossed him with force into the mesh wall! A.D. bounced off it and hit the canvas with a thud!

WHACK!

Archangel soon found himself back on his knees, as KVC leapt up, catching him with a hard low blow! Before Angel could return to his feet, Creed took his knee, and lifted it high, before slamming it down to the canvas with a loud thud! And a second time… and a third… then a fourth! Creed back up, before leaping over Angel and planting a solid right hook into the side of the head of A.D., who had been struggling to his feet!

Creed turned… ready to kick the downed Archangel.

The problem was, Archangel wasn’t down anymore!

Vengeance!

Creed couldn’t believe it… Archangel was now the one in charge, squeezing Creed’s face viciously, Archangel looked to put him to an end, Creed tried the desperate way out, a hard kick below the belt, but was shocked to find that it only served to further infuriate the monster! Who proceeded to drive his head into the mesh again, and again… and again… and again…… and again!

Creed’s head split open from the back, and his gleaming white hair suddenly turned a crimson red.

But suddenly, the grip was released.

Creed slumped to the canvas, gazing at the huge monster in a blur, who struggled to free himself from a grip placed around his waist, suddenly… Archangel was elevated, landing squarely on his head!

Inmate!

Inmate dropped Archangel with a massive German release suplex! Archangel lay motionless, as Inmate looked around, seeing and recognising Creed, and dragging him to his feet, before taking his leg, and hurling him across the Asylum with a capture release suplex! The crowd were now buzzing, but exploded… as A.D. stumbled over to Inmate, and the two started to exchange blows!

A.D. took advantage, hitting Inmate with a solid jab to the ribs, then jabbing him in the back of the head with a hard right!

Inmate fell flat on his face, as A.D. sat on his back and yanked back on his head!

CRUNCH!

A.D. found himself almost decapitated! A wicked boot from Vic Creed catching him squarely in the face! A.D. slumped back, as Creed turned, narrowly avoiding a lunging Archangel boot! Archangel’s momentum carried him leg first into the Asylum mesh, and he fell to the ground in agony clutching his knee.

Creed smirked, he was about to reap the rewards of his earlier attack, but turning and beating the downed Inmate.

If only.

Creed suddenly found himself slammed to the mat by force, and in a second… he was in complete agony!

SNAP!

Inmate let out a roar, turning over the huge Creed and yanking back on his knee, Creed was locked into the hold, and with Archangel and A.D. down, there was no escape!

Creed grimaced in agony, feeling the tendons and muscles in his leg straining, tapping out wasn’t an option, he’d sooner have his leg broken.

Luckily for him, a distraction made its way through the curtain.

Joe Campbell.

“Nah… this doesn’t go with the plans, doesn’t go with the plans at all.” Joe snarled, clutching in his hands a steel chair.

“Why, we’ve got fucking Archangel… out on the canvas… A.D. down, Creed about to cry uncle… and Inmate about to win? Fuck that… where is my blood, where are my broken bones? Where are my thirty foot falls onto sharp spikes?” Joe said through clenched teeth, as Inmate released his grasp on Creed and prepared to do battle with the advancing Joe Campbell.

“Well I aint… fucking… having… th…” CRACK!

The crowd exploded with cheers.

Somewhat odd, considering the man taking action.

Kenny Rock.

Kenny Rock slipped out from the crowd, swinging a chair of his own, which connected with the one which Campbell clutched, which in turn, slammed into Campbell’s skull.

Joe was out.

Kenny was in control.

He looked around, surveying his, and Joe Campbell’s situation.

“How ironic Joe… that the ratings which you so dearly seek… are going to be drawn in by what I’m about to do.” Kenny snarled, picking Joe up by the hair and giving his head a quick slam into the ring steps.

Before…

Rolling him.

Into-the-Asylum.

“My good man.” Kenny said to the nearest official. “Would you be so kind as to lock that door for me? Thankyou.” Kenny said with a slight, sick smile… as the official took a chain and did as he was told.

Joe, was in deep… deep shit.

It was a good thing, that he was unconscious.

SNAP! Inmate grabbed Joe and turned him over, wrenching furiously on his leg in an attempt to break it, suddenly however, Archangel stepped into view, Inmate released the hold and raised his fists ready for the fight.

But Archangel simply walked past him, snatching Joe by the face and twisting him around with Vengeance!

Archangel released Joe… who swayed in a daze about the Asylum.

SMACK!

A.D., now evidently not to happy about being in the match, took Joe’s head off with a wicked right hand, Joe stumbled back, straight into Vic Creed.

Who hoisted him up effortlessly, and dropped him on his head with the powerdriver.

Joe, was fucked.

But no sooner had Creed finalised the beating, than he, A.D., Archangel and Inmate had started brawling again!

“Bah…” Kenny exclaimed at ringside. “What kind of show ending is this.” He went on, before reaching to where he was previously seated, and pulling out a can of gasoline, and his trusty sledge hammer.

“Guy Fawkes, burned for his treason in 1605, maybe what I’m about to do comes into the same context, I suppose.” Kenny said… slowly dousing the Asylum mesh with the gasoline.

“But fuck…” Kenny went on, before drawing back his sledge hammer.

“Joe wants ratings… this is gonna reel em’ in.”

And with that, the crowd exploded.

Kenny swung the sledge hammer, and the sparks which emanated from its connection with the mesh, set a raging fire, the four men in the Asylum continued to brawl amongst the flames, as Joe Campbell lay in agony inside his own personal hell.

The irony was, more people were tuning in now than ever.

To see him burn.

And Kenny Rock?

What he was about to do, would make his actions seconds ago, seem like a walk in the park.