MAIN EVENT! Jaggeroth Vs. Ryan Hughes.

[Psychotic Circus]

The ring crew scurry their underpaid asses down to the ring like they were making an honest living for once. Dominik and FreeBird had just put on a clinic inside the very ring they were rushing towards to set up for the night's main event. Go carts shoot down the entrance ramp and from the sides, they were hauling the party favors for tonight's send off, one man was going to survive, and the other wasn't, it was that simple. Glass cabins, trashcan after trash can filled to the brim with all sorts of nightmarish contraptions and objects of mass bashing. The ring began to get its dressings, barbed wire was wrapped around three sets of the ropes, and you know this couldn't of been resisted, bombs were strewn throughout the wire and ready to blow at the slightest touch.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you have children still watching with us tonight, please, do whatever it takes to send them to bed right now."

"That's right. The horrors of war won't even be able to touch what happens tonight in this ring, in that structure. There's going to a winner, and a loser. And the only way either of these two are winning is if one person fucks the other up a lot worse then he himself gets fucked."

"Um, you could of given everyone a chance to get their little one's off to bed."

"We're being sponsored by the Catholic church. Do you honestly think parent's would let their children watch tonight?"




The announcers are suddenly cut off by the harmonious sounds of chanting, it spreads creepily throughout the arena as the cage known only as Hardcore Heaven begins to descend from the rafters. Big Al and The Fuzz bring it down to a whisper.

"This, this is the first time we've been able to catch even a glimsp of this hellish structure, and I have to say...What the hell was Ryan thinking when he agreed to join this match?"

"I know. Twenty five feet tall, twenty tons of metal and chain link fencing. We had to push back the first ten rows of chairs to even fit this thing inside the arena, there's even a side cage that takes up most of the ramp."

"Yep. The second these two walk out to this ring, there's no escaping it, the gate will close, and hell on earth will spill out right before our very eyes....who's that?"

"He's too small to be Jaggeroth already. And what's he standing next to? And those black boxes?..."

As the structure touches the earth for the first time since its assembly, on top there appears to be a visitor. Dressed in nothing but a cloak blacker than sack cloth. He stands next to a wooden table with a cover over top hiding something with wires jutting out from all its sides that travel all through the cage and into the black boxes on the inside. A microphone reaches up to his mouth as the hooded figure prepares to speak.

"Ryan, I've signed my life away tonight...and all because I can't stand you either. You've held me down in the past as well, and for this, you must pay. I'm here tonight to make sure everything goes according to plan, and if it doesn't...then no one wins."


The cloth over top the table is thrown off and left to fall through the air, underneath it all was where the wires connected was a digital clock, fifteen seconds was all that blinked below the big, red button.

"Holy shit!"

"Never trust a psycho with a fetish for gunpowder. Jaggeroth has this cage set to blow!"


"Everything inside the cage will be dropped like you dropped me, Hughes, painfully. You always said I was the next golden boy, the person who had "IT", but you didn't even call me when you needed a partner, instead, you slapped me and Jaggeroth in the face that night when you sided with his pupil, and my greatest nemesis...."


"It can't be!"


The cloaked figure pulls back the top of his hood to reveal his identity. The crowd goes ballistic at the appreance of a man they had once thought to of been gone from the realm of GHW, but one this night, he was siding with the Wrestling equivalent of the Anti-Christ.

"It's Dustin Delta! Dustin Delta is here in the GHW arena! And he's going to be the judge, jury and executioner of this match!

"Why!? Just why would he go this far to help in Ryan's destruction!? Hughes's hasn't done a damn thing to this man, there's no reason to go this far!"

The cloak comes off and The Floridian Falcon takes his place on top of the cage and pulls at a rope opening the entrance gate to this satanic cell. Then, the air began to go cold and a feeling of utter dread fell upon the live audience in attendance.


"Ladies and gentlemen, this is YOUR-MAIN-EVENT! Introducing first!"




Twin trials of fire run down the sides of the entrance ramp as the music hits, the house lights turn an unearthly red. Fog starts emitting from behind the entrance curtain, it fans out and starts its march down the ramp, covering up the area.

Centuries of carnageCenturies of chaos yet unfoldingA planet built on bone
Spinning in a space
Unmolded

Strobe lights flicker on the stage revealing a single, monstrous figure standing at the top of the entrance ramp, its long hair is flicked back as it starts its descent down the ramp and into this creation. With fire raging at both side, the Time Killer breaks through the fog, dressed in a short sleeve, black jumpsuit and his mask of skin, Jaggeroth looks around as the crowd vents the frustrations of the common man on him. The Time Killer gets on his knees as a spot light shines on him, the white light has a covering over it projecting a maroon pentagram which Jaggeroth kneels in the center of. A camera man gets in front of Jag as he bows to all that is evil and wrong.

I'm out of my mind
Immortal Corrupter
Malignance defined
Chew the womb, seal the tomb, leave the dead behind
Immortal Corrupter
Dagger of the mind

As the Psycho King raises his hands in the air again the lights completely go out except for the insignia of evil, a strong up flow of fire rises from both sides of the entrance ramp. The arena is lit up from the fury of the raging hell fire as Jaggeroth raises from the ground and he slowly walks into the creation he himself had made for the very purpose of destroying Ryan Hughes.

The betrayer is enraged
His mask is gone his crimson hauberk cloven
His brains they are arrayed
Amongst the ruin of the lies he'd spoken

Immortal!


Corrupter!

The Monarch of the Malicious struts past the cage with little worry, he knew this thing inside and out. He passed by all the tables, all the barrels full of weapons, all the tube cabins he had put together himself, and he knew that this time, he was ready.

From the haunted cornfields of NE-BRAAAASKA, weighing in at 280 pounds and standing six feet six inches....THIS-IS-JAAAAGEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRR----ROTH!"

He slides into the ring underneath the straps of barbed wire above him, his smile never leaving his demented, skin covered face.

And if I was a sperm
I'd consecrate my germ and then continue
And if I was a worm
I'd find a way that I could crawl up in you

Crawl up in you!

And if I was a sperm...
Immortal!
And if I was a worm...
Corrupter!
If I was a sperm, if I was a germ...

I'm out of my mind
Immortal Corrupter
Malignance defined
Immortal Corrupter
Dagger of the mind

The Leviathan incarnation stands in the middle of his metallic baby in the ring and shines the smile of a proud father while he takes a look around. Dustin Delta drops the microphone down for Jaggeroth to use. He lifts it from the mat and looks over the crowd, as he prepares to deliver what could possibly be his final sermon.


"Life's a bitch, but Ryan Hughes, you're the biggest bitch of them all. All this time while you were "not" running this place with Smarky Smark secretly under your thumb, was the darkest time in GHW history, and I wasn't even here for most of it! It ends tonight, Hughes. There will be a victor, and it will be me, and as you can tell, if it isn't me, then our friend up on high is going to be playing God tonight, and he's going to make sure neither of us just walk away from this...Existence will not be option for the both of us when that bell rings, Ryan. I've worked far to hard for far to long for you to come out here and steal another opportunity away from me again! Your bones will break, your soul will be crushed, and after I have you right where I want your ass, I will raise my hand and strike you down like the cretin you are! Sins must be paid for, Ryan, and tonight I'm justice incarnate, and there's not a damn thing you to do to save yourself from this fate. Hell hath no fury like a king who was dethroned before his time. I will rise up like a phoenix from the flames and you will burn in my wake! Are you ready, ass!? Your life is mine and mine only to take, don't you ever forget that...your soul will grow cold soon enough, and your brain will go silent....I am hell, I am Justice....Abandon all hope, violence shall survive!"


"He's lost it, it's all gone now. Knock knock, anybody inside that skull? Nope...just a man who had his dick kicked into the dirt and couldn't live with himself afterwords."

"Shut up, dummy, or we could be the next victims inside that cage!"

"Whatever, all that's left is for Ryan Hughes to enter the arena tonight so we can all watch as this car crash in slow-motion hits us right at our most vulnerable place, then watch as someone is probably going to die. Tell your friends, we need the PPV buys!"



TBCB: Ryan Hughes.

[Ryan Hughes]

So the stage is set. Jaggeroth is ready, waiting for his arch-nemesis in the middle of a structure spawned from his own warped mind. Dustin Delta perches, like a vulture, waiting to pick apart the remains of the man who turned his back on him. All this can only lead to one plausible outcome...

Ryan Hughes isn't coming out of this alive.

As the demonic duo wait for their prey, the screen at the top of the arena flickers, before showing the backstage area where Ryan would walk through to reach his hellish destination. Footsteps are heard, causing the fans to buzz in anticipation, before breaking to to mass cheering and booing as the Mancunian Mastadon walks in to the shot. He walks with a purpose, keeping his eyes locked in looking straight ahead. As he walks past the shot, he is tapped on the shoulder by someone considerably smaller than him: GHW's reporter, Jamie Graves.

"Ryan. I know this isn't a good time, but could you please share your thoughts as you walk in to what could be your-"

"Last match? Go ahead, say it. Everybody else is. The whole world seems to think that Jaggeroth is going to end my career tonight- well let me tell you something. My career ends when I want it to end. I don't care what anyone tries to preach otherwise, I don't quit. I don't get hurt. I don't die. I don't fall in the face of danger in fact I laugh in it! I have fought in this company for three years! 1,035 days of my life have been spent busting my hump for Glory and Honor Wrestling. I've had people love me. I've had people hate me. But I always bust my ass for the greater good.

You think this is the most hellacious thing I have done?

Let me take you back to March of 2009. The Hardcore Cell match at Total Carnage for the New Age Championship. I fought tooth and nail with Daniel Throne, with Trickshot, with ... with some other guy too. The point is, I never quit in that match. I was crucified with barbed wire. I didn't quit. I had my face smushed against the cage. I didn't quit. I dislocated my shoulder in that match, but I still didn't quit! And I can list off more of these escapades too!

I've been inside the Dragon's Dungeon, fighting to the death with a GHW Hall of Famer in Metal Dragon. We beat eachother up so badly, that I couldn't give any sign of consciousness within a ten-count! Did I leave with my tail between my legs? No! I fought the very next week! And lets not forget that little thing I won called the NeXuS Deathmatch- a match that you couldn't even reach the final phase of!

I'm getting sidetracked here. The point I am trying to make is this. I am more of a fighter than you will ever be, and this little playground you've erected in the arena isn't going to stop me from doing what I have come accustomed to over the years- kicking your sorry behind all over the place!

You think you have scared me with this match? You think I am terrified with the thought of Dustin Delta taking up Jihad with me, trying to blow us all up? No. YOU should be the one that's scared, Jaggeroth. Because you have just exposed yourself to your worst nightmare."

And on that note, Ryan walks off screen as the GHW Blood Runs Cold animation reappears on the tron. In the ring, Jaggeroth looks peeved. He looks up through the steel at Dustin Delta, who just shrugs cluelessly. It is at time, where the arena becomes shrouded in darkness, as the house lights switch off throughout the building. The volume of the packed in crowd rises, as in most cases, darkness means that something pretty darn cool is about to happen. As the confusion ensues, a soft almost xylophone like sound comes out of the speakers, setting the crowd off even more. A deep symphonic sound joins the light xylophone, before the guitars and drum kick in; the signall for the strobe lights to start flashing every few beats. Through the strobes, Jaggeroth is seen pacing back and forth, clutching at his hair in frustration, as he is so close to being able to torture his nemesis. The guitar riff builds up, before a gravelly voice screams out, almost to push the metaphor even further...

"NIGHTMAAAAAAAAARE!"

The first verse of Avenged Sevenfold's "Nightmare" pounds the speakers. The lights come back, and the arena is swathed in alternating white and blue lights as the Mancunian Mastodon, Ryan Hughes pushes his way through the curtains to a massive ovation from the Boston audience, most of whom hate Jaggeroth with a passion. Hughes doesn't smile, he doesn't pose, he just stands there surveying the situation laid in front of him.

"Introducing the opponent, from Manchester, England. Weighing in at 251lbs, he is one-half of the GHW Tag Team Champions... this is Ryan Hughes!"

Ryan stares at the gate, currently held open by a pulley system, which leads to the battleground that he and the Psycho King will duel within the confines of. Ryan's head then tilts upwards, as he locks eyes with the man who he took under his wing, a man who has bitterly betrayed him, Dustin Delta. With him are a bunch of explosives- the Human Fighter Jet obviously planning to push the button on the timer and make a run for it when the time comes. He holds the timebomb up in to the light as he smirks evilly at his former EVO Pro. Ryan, surprisingly, pulls out a smirk of his own. The camera closest to the Brit catches the words he souts up to Delta.

"I may have made a lot of enemies in my time... but I made a lot of friends too. Look up."

Dustin shouts some trash talk, before idly looking up to the rafters, seeing something he didn't expect... and certainly didn't want. From three different directions, men jump from the rafters. Luckily, they are aided by cords and a bunch of other safety gear as they land on the top of the central cell, surrounding Dustin. Those men? Freddie McGavin, Steven Glover and Corrin Cobain, of the Fucking British Invasion. They crack their knuckles menacingly after taking off their harnesses, leaving Dustin rooted to the spot. If Dustin was going to blow the cage up, he would have to take the brunt of it himself, the FBI would make sure of it.

Back at ground level, Ryan jouneys through the gate, and down the metal corridor that leads him to Jaggeroth. Thoughts racing through his head, the Mancunian trudges on, not giving away any emotion. He eventually reaches the central cell, and slowly climbs the steps to the ring. He stares a hole through Jaggeroth before climbing through the ropes, and still stares at him afterwards.

"You should have known
The price of evil
And it hurts to know that you belong here, yeah
Oooooh, it's your fucking nightmare."

The music dies down, and the crowd rises up, wanting to see every moment of this spectacle. Everything these men have been through together in their careers, the tortures, the brawls, the psychotic mind games spanning three different federations, the victims, the casualties, the allegiances, the absolute hatred these two men share for eachother- they are all going to come to a dramatic head in this match. They don't give an inch to eachother in their staring contest of sorts, as they wait for those three sounds that would legally allow them to beat the shit out of eachother:


Ding...



Ding...



Ding.




TBC Jaggeroth

[Psychotic Circus]

The design may have adjusted, nevertheless the bloodshed would still go on as arranged. Jaggeroth wastes little of his precious time after the bell beats by cupping his hand behind the Manchester Mastodon's skull together with giving him a few rings with his own noggin. The Batman possesses little choice at this point but to back off from the brain wrecking blows while he sinks closer and closer to the corner encased in barbed wire. The fucking British One was pricked in the side by one barb, and that was enough to re-ignite the hatred in his heart for his cruel nemesis. Jaggeroth was taken by the heavy cloth around his hips and spun around as Hughes shoved a shoulder in his guts with one fluid motion to drive the Psychopathic Mastermind's backside into the pointed strands of wire. Screams of ironic agony burst from Jag's throat while Ryan takes the advantage of placing his long hated rival in one of Jaggeroth's own traps. The Psycho King's chest lets loose with the hard thuds of Ryan's chops, palm after palm slaps against his barreled stature. A low hanging breaks Ryan's combo in the cheapest of ways; he slinks back with a shin stretched out before him while he hops his body away. Anger, years of resentment and above all else, untapped hatred beat against Jaggeroth's mind harder than any pain could, his body pulled away from the wire trap against the ring post with a sickening rip. As he approached his hated enemy, the camera caught a glimpse of his back; little pricks could be seen among his impressive tattoo work from the rips in his jumpsuit. The British Brawler countered the incoming mad man with his own cheap shot, a thumb slid past the eye hole slit in Jaggeroth's mask, forcing the Psychotic Sadist back again.

” Neither man has gained an inch her tonight. They're meeting each other's tactics, taking the brunt of it, and responding with a maneuver of equal complications."

” They both know each other well. This may only be the fourth time they've squared off against one another, but the severing hatred between them is a war that may have never ended. This structure might finally kill it off, but hatred is a beast that always seems to come back at the worst of times."

And hatred was about to be birth again like a bastard child of malice and destruction. The Floridian Falcon was doing his damnedest on top of that the steel hell he agreed to stand upon, his body hovered over the button that would spell doom for the men battling underneath him, and the FBI wanted control of the WMD he controlled. Jaggeroth only lifted his head as Ryan prepared for another assault on the Psychotic Monarch, he knew he was outnumbered, but why fight numbers with more numbers when you can simply outclass the fucker? The arena was cast in darkness once again; everyone wondered what dastardly plan-B pill Jaggeroth was going to force Ryan to chug down. The arena lit up again, revealing that Dustin Delta now had backup in the form of two more robed figures. They stood before the Fucking British Invasion with their chests pumped and primed for action.


” Now what the hell is all this? These two titans of the ring can never seem to get one up on the other when it comes to mind games and preparation!"

” Jaggeroth has had a lot of time to come prepared for this show. He knows it could be the final stage for either of them, so why not go out with a star studded explosion?"


The Main Batamite comes in for a furry of stiff jabs across Jag's chin, each landing with bone crunching force while the Monarch tries to regain his composure. The hardcore element of this battle finally comes into full play as Hughes's swings his arm back one more time; driving it straight into Jaggeroth's barreled chest and forcing the Juggernaut stumbling backwards into the barbed encased ropes. The posterior of the Psycho King hits against the packed explosives shrouded in the wire, forcing a white hot explosion to slap him against the back with a sudden cry of agony from the Monarch. Smoke puffed from Jaggeroth's back while the Leviathan plucked his carcass from the entrapment of his own design, all of this painful irony was just too damn juicy for him to contain. Ryan knew he knew that tone in Jag's giggle wasn't a good sign; it only meant this competition was finally going to bubble over. The Monarch took his mass and shot it forward, tangling up with the object of his rage, the two men fought for control of the lock up until Jag spun them around and released the Manchester Mastodon pummeling the mat with his feet and straight for a barbed covered corner. Ryan was able to save himself at the last possible second by adjusting the force in his movement and sending it up, he lands with his footing on the middle rope between the wire entrapment and wastes little time strutting his stuff up there for the fans. As he let out a trumpeting roar to the GHW hopeful, the cloud of darkness appeared right behind him; Jaggeroth has joined Ryan on the second rope, spooning the Batamite with intentions eviler than surprise buttsechs. Jaggeroth's skull bashed fiercely into the back of Ryan’s cranium, crippling a reversal’s chance from the Main Batamite in his hour of need. Hughes's right leg is lifted up from the thigh, and this wasn't for a cheap feel as some would think, no, Ryan's entire body was plucked from the turnbuckles and flicked horizontally with his back facing the mat, and utter domination in his future. Jaggeroth spread his legs in mid air with Hughes's as the meat in his ambiguous sandwich, the King landed with his package of British Smarkery disintegrating with him.


” YES! No one in the business does a Blue Thunder Bomb better than Jaggeroth! And he only made it more devastating from off the turnbuckle!"

"....how many moves can this douche steal from Super Dragon?...."

The action on top of the truly satanic structure was at a stand still, Dustin shouted out orders for the FBI to leave the cage now that he had some backup behind him. The two robed figures only stood their, undoubtedly watching over the crucial situation with their identities and intentions shrouded in darkness. Cobain was the first to challenge the hands of GHW's personal Tormentor, he was greeted with the robed baddy on the right to run forward, his fist cocked fully back like a boss and dusting his knuckles with authority against Corrin's solar plexus, knocking the British supporter to his back and bouncing along the springy steel top of the cage. The robed assailant stood in his attack pose, the wind he generated from his charge and the style of his ability exposed himself, he stood straight up and flung the robe off, exposing a man dressed in all black Dickies clothing, sunglasses and a Mr. Fuckin' Satisfying cap.


” IT’S JERRY NATE! He's changed sides, gone to the dark side, flipped the coin!-"

"-But who's the other person? What other figures from the past has this raging beast from the cornfields brought out tonight!?"


While the commotion up top was going on, Jaggeroth was plotting on turning this match into Ryan's personal hell down below. The Nebraskan Leviathan sunk his mythological form underneath the bottom rope and slid his viperous bulk out of the ring. Trash cans went flying as he looked for just the ring object to inflict punishment on his age old nemesis. An innocent looking tarp was thrown into the air and forcing the fans to let out a sudden outburst for blood to be spilled, in a very sticky way. Ryan Hughes had awoken from his spontaneous slumber and exited the ring in a rolly polly fashion, when his eyes gazed upon the contraption Jaggeroth had unveiled; it was like looking deep into the past. An artifact from their first match stood before them, the cotton floss machine was already running and Jaggeroth was coming in with a kendo stick aimed for Ryan's head. The Psycho King swung his stick of punishment and missed his extra large target by a country mile as Ryan ducked the incoming shot, forcing the stick to vibrate when slapped against the ring and boomeranging back into Jaggeroth's masked front. A leak sprung underneath that mask formed from the skin of the best in the business, red droplets trickled as Ryan sunk low and got to second base with Jagger's thigh and lifting the Titan Nebraska up off his base and slowly walking the heavy corpse over to the candy floss machine. He belt at his vocals towards all who would hear his cry, should he make an ass out of this so called Psychotic Mastermind? The answer was an ephectic yes from the crowd. Jaggeroth tried fighting back from this humbling experience in vein, his masked facade dipped and fell inside the whirling sweetness of the candy floss machine and stayed there suspended in the air above it while he kicked his legs. The announcers were about to get their own pink style surprise.


"Hahahahaaha!"

"WHAT THE FUCK!?"

"Hi!"

"How!? What...Why are you here!?"

"You thought I wasn't going to get the closet seat possible to all of this? Two of my most hated enemies are going to kill each other! Hello! The demon who raped me might finally die here, I have to witness this..."

TBCB: Ryan Hughes.

(Fuck it, I don't even care anymore.)