M.E. -- Dustin vs Santiago III

[Dominik Santiago]

The atmosphere of the HSBC arena is tumultuous, the teaming masses of humanity known as the GHW lifeblood have been treated to yet another night of excitement, drama, and cut-throat competition. With the program drawing to a close, the enthusiasm of the audience remains lively, their buzzing at a fair volume in anticipation for the final bout of the evening. They suddenly, and quietly hush, as the bell chimes thrice, captivating their attention. A chorus of cheers commences in response to the continuation of the show, as Charlie Coors makes his way into the center of the squared circle. Holding a microphone and a cue card in his hands, the high school classmate of the Amherstview, Ontario native, Matthew Oliveira, slowly raises the microphone closer to his lips, further quieting the crowd.

Charlie Coors: "The following contest is your Main Event and is scheduled for one fall, with a twenty minute time limit."

As his announcement finishes, the arena lights begin to dim, filling the venue for GHW live with a dark, ominous ambiance. Those not already standing, rise from their seats and cheer in anticipation. As the arena overflows with excitement, the lighting structures being casting silhouettes and shadows, whilst serving as the only light source beyond cell phone lights, flashing cameras, and the EXIT signs located throughout the building. The Butcher-tron suddenly comes to life, spurring a white strobe light which shines from the rafters, slowly ascending up the ramp toward the stage platform - all of this accompanied by the beginning riff of Stone Sours' "Cardiff". The quick yet foreboding effectively captures the persona of the man behind the music, the man of which suddenly emerges before the eyes of those in attendance. As the drums kick in and the song begins the velvet curtains slowly part, making way for the GHW Icon comes to stand, illuminated in white, with his arms crossed over his chest in his trademark 'X' pose, his damped blond hair hanging in front of his face as his head lies titled askew.

The sure fire Hall of Famer's GHW Championship sparkles in the light, sitting around his waist and overtop his sleeveless, black "Legend.Icon.Champion" T-shirt which lies beneath his white trench coat. Completing his attire, are his usual black tights with "SKO" written on the legs, his white wrestling boots with black laces, and taped wrists from knuckle to forearm, in homage to The Genius, his close friend. He surveys the arena, gazing into the outskirts of the HSBC, and then in the direction of the ring. From there he begins his slow, methodical saunter to the ring, his shoulders swaying ostentatiously, his being raised upright and to the sky, flourishing swagger, confidence, and the type of moxie one comes to develop from capturing four Heavyweight championships in a span of five years.

Coors: "Coming to the ring first, fighting out of Hollywood, California, and weighing in tonight at two hundred and twenty seven pounds, he is the HE IS THE GHW ICON, AND THE REIGNING GHW CHAMPION...DOMINIK SANTIAGO!"

As his name reverberates throughout the arena Santiago comes to a stop in the middle of the aisle. He stares at the sea of spectators on either side of them, his face remaining stern, his brows un0furrowed, his mouth closed while the enthralled patrons reaching out in attempts to grab him. The showman in him, Dominik begins his march once again, taking the time out to slap each of those hands, hands those fans will likely never wash again.

This fluid feels like pain
This stoic mood is all in vain
I reached into the dark
I tear this other me apart

Dominik knees up onto the apron, replacing the aforementioned knee with a foot as he rises to a stand on the apron. He walks along it, approaching the turnbuckle on the hard camera side of the ring. He plants a foot, and then a second on the middle buckle and climbs it, coming to a stand over his people as their champion, their hero, their beacon of hope and role-model. He snaps his head back, water scattering from his hair follicles and flying into the atmosphere as he unstraps his prestigious championship. The coveted belt of so many is then raised high and pridefully into the air, the Assassin coming to a pose in the corner and receiving a massive amount of cheers for it in response.

How many years ago?
How many deaths I can't let go?
My flesh is temporary
My God, extraordinary
You can't kill my mind

Matthew Oliveira: "Dominik Santiago retained the GHW Championship over Wolverina at NeXus Al. Those two put on a match for the ages that will certainly show up on their respective DVD's for sure."
Hyper Elf: "Wouldn't doubt it for a second. The Assassin manged to overcome all the odds, and silenced the People's Princess. I didn't think he could do it, but he did. It was without question a great contest. I got through a whole box of donuts. It was THAT good!"
"But now he faces Dustin Delta, the King of Deathmatches. They've had a good number of matches, the last one of which Santiago was victorious."
"You can expect Double D to be on his A- Game Mr. Mapleleaf. A win over the GHW Champion would give him grounds for a title shot, and he'd love to be a Double Champion. I know I would!"

A man delivered can never
Make his way in darkness
I know tonight will end
But I won't give this life away again

The Lord of the Flies climbs down and slips between the middle and top ropes, the arena lights slowly returning to their normal fixture. The champion continues his amble across the ring, handing his championship to the referee and slowly disrobing out of his trench coat. Santiago then walks toward the ropes, handing his coat over to the ring attendant. As the ring handy-man walks off, Dominik backs into the nearby corner, removing his sleeveless tee, garnering a shrieks and cheers from a great number of females in the audience. With a great, big heave, he tosses the said shirt into the stands. As his theme begins to dwindle and pan out, Dom grabs onto the ropes on either side of him and crouches, stretching his leg tendons and more importantly, limbering up for a contest that will certainly be grueling. With Cardiff now completely faded out, the GHW Champion stares blankly at his the canvas, his mind wandering as the arena is left buzzing, with the noise level of the New Yorkers' at a solid decibel as they cheer and talk among themselves in anticipation of the King of Deathmatches.

TBCB Dustin Delta

[Dustin Delta]

The human embodiment of star-studded accomplishment, Dominick Santiago, stares not into the blank canvas, but beyond that, into a void of space occupied by his absolutist attitude, furthering the notion that The Assassin often found himself fascinated by who he was and what he had done. Was it narcissism? Or perhaps, inquisition? An introspective tone seems to settle in for a moment, as the masses in the capacity crowd of the HSBC Arena try to read the story so far as it is written on the face of the Lord of the Flies. Though, it gets quite difficult to read when the arena's lights lose function and a body of darkness replaces the ambient curiosity in the building. The enthusiastic and excited audience now grows weary, unsure of what's happened. Typically, the entrance of the next man would call for a purple and red tint in the in-house illumine, but it seemed that this night would require exception.

"Mama" by the ever-infamous-among-Christian-mothers My Chemical Romance slowly fades in, yet the arena remains behind Death's curtain. However, as the voice of Gerard Way begins in soft whispers, each word he sings appears on the TitanTron, much as it would with a typography.

"Mama, we all go to hell.
Mama, we all go to hell.
I'm writing this letter and wishing you well,
Mama, we all go to hell."

"Oh, well, now,
Mama, we're all gonna die.
Mama, we're all gonna die.
Stop asking me questions,
I'd hate to see you cry,
Mama, we're all gonna die."

As the cryptic lyrics of perdition and annihilation are heard, a lone pale floodlight cascades down onto The Lord of the Flies, highlighting every crevice and bulge in the being of Dominick. The blank stare of concentration of Santiago is now broken, his attention caught. He extends his knees and returns to a standing position, turning to face the stage and waiting for just about any sign of his opponent. The expression on the face of the reigning GHW Champion contains a mix of perplexity, hesitance, and interest as all but he remains engulfed in a veil of abyssal nothingness. The refrain of

[/i]"Mama" plays and icy cool colors, pale shades of blue, are cast from the arena's lights. This reveals Dustin Delta, as he stands at the stage's end with his arms outstretched upwards, as if the arctic lights were expelled from the palms of his very hands. With his eyes closed and his chest heaving with each anxious deep breath, he almost seems to be holy, in a twisted and undone manner.

"And when we go don't blame us, yeah.
We'll let the fires just bathe us, yeah.
You made us, oh, so famous;
We'll never let you down!
And when you go, don't return to me, my love..."

The attire of the Sleepwalker seems to have undergone a few changes, as has his arrival. The old shades of red are now instead icy blues and cool whites. Both hands are wrapped in white tape up to the forearm and the single elbow pad which he used to use for protection on his right arm is absent. His trunks now display a power blue design which seems to resemble glaciers on the sides, for where the sides are stitched with the back and front, there are jagged lines and askew spikes, outlined with a light gray. His black kneepads have remained constant through the change in costume, as have his boots, but his kickpads are now better suited to match his trunks - their color scheme now consists of powder blue, sky blue, non-photo blue, and different whites and grays. It would also be that the Herald of the Darkest Day has bleached his hair, which now appears to be black in some areas, but bleached-blonde in certain streaks. As Dustin opens his eyes on the stage, he also whips back his head, moving any hair out of the way of his eyes so that his gaze may capture a glimpse at GHW's resident Cerebral Menace in Dominick Santiago. The outstretched arms are contracted and brought down as The King of the Deathmatch Champion begins down the steel incline.

"Just the other night at the sixth-annual Nexus pay-per-view, Dustin Delta left no-man's land discontent, but victorious. He failed to pass through to the second round of the ungodly Nexus Deathmatch, but he was able to successfully silence the aspirations of one Jack Tracks in a Fan Brings The Weapons match."

"And Dominick left happy! He tossed Wolverina back into the gutter at the bottom of the ladder and fortunately for him, Dustin Delta didn't win the Nexus Deathmatch! This match won't put his precious title on the line!"

"But Santiago has to be a little worried with who did win the deathmatch!"

"I'm sure he is - but that's a ways away. Tonight, this match, is - as coined by Jamie Graves - a King of the Main Event match! Look at who's in it! The longest reigning GHW Champion -"

"...Not much an accolade since the title was only formed earlier this year..."

" - And Dustin Delta, the King of the Deathmatch Champion who as of today, has matched the records of two history-changers! With this individual reign over the throne of the death-defying, Delta has been our champion as long as you!"

"Really?"

"Yeah! 128 days! And with all of the time he's held the championship in total, he's just passed Darth That Guy in number of days!"

"Incredible. This young man is something else, Elf. But then again, so is Dominick Santiago..."

The King of Hearts make a quick dash up the steel steps, and upon reaching the ring curtain, reaches to the small of his back and undoes the silver snaps on the strap of the silver-plated championship. (Try saying that five times fast!) Double D hops over the ropes, but immediately bounces back up, and plants his left foot on the second rope and his right on the top, and extends the arm whose hand is fastened around the championship upwards, holding it for all those in attendance and for the cameras broadcasting live around the world to see. While our small sliver of the universe gazes deeply into the gleaming title, the cold, calculating eyes of Dustin meet those of The Lord of the Flies, and the 2-time Deathmatch Champion steps down to the canvas as the world prepares for this battle to begin.
[/center][/color]

[Dominik Santiago]

As the bell chimes thrice the two holders of GHW's most prized possessions lock up in the middle of the ring, cranium upon cranium, and shoulder onto shoulder as they push on one another in a battle for leverage. Dustin quickly lowers his stance, the lower center of gravity allowing him to coerce the GHW champion across the ring, until the Californian is pressed up against the ring cables. The referee immediately steps in, giving "Alice" an earful and urging him to release the Assassin. A clean break is generated, as the King of Deathmatches slowly struts back, arms held high over his head, a confident grin etched on his face as he stares into the cold-blooded pupils of of his adversary. Santiago swishes his tongue around his mouth, his eyes wandering around the arena as he begins to ponder, seemingly taken off his game mentally by his opponent's early aggressiveness. As he continues to contemplate, he steps off the ropes and begins circling around the canvas. Delta follows suit, before they reacquaint themselves with one another, once again locking in a collar and elbow tie in the heart of the ring. This time Dominik takes the initiative, first dropping to a knee, before deftly maneuvering around his opponent and applying a hammerlock, flourishing his blinding quickness and effectively subduing Double D. The Thane of Slumberland winces from the hold, before reaching back with his near arm and grappling the Lord of the Flies around the head. Having captured Santiago's cranium, Delta quickly slides to the canvas, using the momentum to drag Dominik off his feet and send him somersaulting to the canvas. Flustered by the brilliant counter, Santiago scrambles to his feet, and impulsively charges forward. His momentary lapse in focus is a mistake which plays into the hand of his counterpart - a mistake which his face pays the price for. Quick-thinking, Dustin wisely leaps into the air and juts out his legs, catching Santiago on the butt of his chin and sending him back down to the canvas.

Santiago slowly lifts his head off the canvas, his mind clouded by a wave of disorientation, all of which is created by Delta's textbook Dropkick. Speaking of the devil, the KOTDM champion continues his attack, grappling Santiago and lifting him to a vertical base. Holding the GHW Icon's arm -both the lower and upper, Delta whips him across the ring. Santiago scrambles across the proverbial coliseum and bounces off the ropes. The fleet of foot, agile Assassin ducks under a Delta colthesline attempt, and ricochets off the ropes for a second time. Santiago's physical nimbleness and bewildering athleticism is displayed once again, as he strafes to the back of his antagonist, and encircles his arms around his waist. The GHW Champion rears his drives his momentum back, shifting his weight to the rear in an attempt to German Suplex Delta and all of his multiple personas into the canvas. Said attempt is thwarted by a shrewd counter, a locking of ankles executed by the two time Television Champion. Double D slides a hand in front of his breadbasket, disengaging the Californian's clasped hands. Having escaped captivity via the waistlock, he maneuvers his frame to the side of Dominik's body, and simultaneously seizes him by the arm. A twinkle of malice shines in Alice's peepers as he twists the aforementioned limb, applying a standing armbar, sending a surge of pain throughout the Heavyweight champion's joint. Despite the wrenching of his appendage, Santiago remains composed, denying Delta the psychological edge. Continuing the chain of counters, the savvy Dominik Santiago quickly somersaults forward, effectively untwisting his arm and returning to a stand. With Dustin's arm in his clutches, Dom reels him in before bending and swinging his free arm, clobbering the Everglades Exemplar in the temple with his forearm. Before his brainpain can assimilate the damage, Delta's head is assaulted once again, this time by the educated feet of his aggressor. The Lord of the Flies blasts him in the chrome dome with a humbling Roundhouse that leaves Delta in a doubled-over stupor. With haste the technically sound Assassin applies a double underhook, before lifting his opponent off his feet and flipping him sideways into the air. In one fluid motion, the self-proclaimed face of GHW wraps an arm around Double D's torso and falls to a seated position, slamming the King of Deathmatches supinely into the canvas with both authority and a resounding thud.

"Damn...Delta just got the sugar knocked out of him."
"Don't know what to call that, maybe a Butterfly Sidewalk Slam."
"I guess that makes sense...I reckon you just coined a new wrestling term Matthew."
"WELL, they don't call me the Genius for nothing Hyper!"

With his foe's shoulders flattened on the canvas, Santiago hooks his near leg and pulls back for the cover, the official quickly dropping to apply a pinfall.

"1!"

"2"

With a contortion of the body and the raising of the shoulder, Delta is able to break the count. However he isn't allowed to recuperate, as Santiago sits him up and quickly executes a chinlock. Delta's eyes bulge out of their respective sockets due to the restriction of air and the deprivation of blood flow to his cerebrum. Fueled by his competitive edge and mean streak, Dustin snorts like a bull before raising up onto his feet, with his lower body feeling like two hundred and fifteen pounds of numbness. Despite his lower extremities holding him down, Double D continues to fight on, burrowing his elbow repeatedly into the stomach of the Assassin until he is released from the submission hold. GHW's Patron Saint staggers into the corner, gingerly holding his throat and panting heavily as the oxygen is returned back to his panicking head. His reprieve is soon cut short though, as Dominik recovers from the assault on his abdominal region, and quickly charges forward. Looking to capitalize on his opponent's impetuousness, Dustin spins out of the corner in a three hundred, and sixty degree rotation, vigorously swinging his elbow like a sword in hopes of severing the GHW champion's head. Santiago avoids catastrophe, ducking the maneuver and heading for the corner. With his uncanny athletic ability, Dominik springs onto the top rope in a sudden, graceful leap. "Alice" isn't impressed by the bustling brawler from Hollywood, and immediately charges toward the corner. With a mighty shove he pushes Dominik off his perch, sending the Assassin flying off the top turnbuckle, only to crash and burn on the padded floor in a heap of sweat and possibly broken cartilage.

"...GODDAMN!"
"And that's what happens when you go to the high rent district with insufficient funds folks. YOU GET DROPPED!"

As the patrons look on with concern and amazement, Delta takes a moment to catch his breath before exiting the ring and stepping onto the apron. The referee quickly walks toward the ropes, chiding the Middle Weight and demanding that he re-enter the squared circle. Dustin merely smiles at the zebra-clad ref, before turning his attention to the commotion beneath him. The said commotion is the sounds of groans and movement from the GHW champion whom, begins to stir. Like the quintessential showman he is, Delta stares into the masses, and waves his hand in the area, signaling for their attention, immediately gaining a chorus of cheers for the effort. As Dominik staggers to his feet, seemingly off beam and discombobulated, Dustin runs along the edge of the apron before leaping off into the air. In mid flight he careens his leg, curving his foot and swinging it; his boot impinges on the Californian's vertex, with the violent collision of foot and cranium sending the Assassin tumbling over like a severed tree. The maneuver brings the audience to a fever pitch, the high degree of excitement filling the air induced by the devil-may-care tactics of the most dominant King of Deathmatches in recent history. And as both competitors lie sprawled and inert, chests heaving up and down, and glazed eyes staring up at the ceiling, the referee begins his ten count. The crowd continues to cheer, watching on intently as neither man shows any signs of moving anytime soon

"Mattz, I think Dominik just got the jelly knocked out of his doughnut!
"That was surely a brain scrambler Hyper. The Assassin will be taking the effects of that Enziguri all the way back to his home on the Sunset Strip."
"I don't know, a guy eats a kick like that and he may not even remember his address."
"I remember mine. I probably shouldn't. But I do nonetheless..."

TBCB Double D

[Dustin Delta]

A veil of horrified astonishment falls over the audience as soon as they had heard the deafening crack of the Middleweight’s foot against the brainpan of the Lord of the Flies. Murmurs begin to flutter about, but a majority of those in attendance remain in a mortified silence. Both the GHW Champion, and his lesser, the King of the Deathmatch Champion, seem bereft of life as they’re sprawled out across the thin padding neighboring the squared circle. The officiator peers out to the two superstars who appear to be pushing up daisies, and after his analysis of the scene, raising his arms upward to continue his crucial count. “2!” The voice of the judge seems even more massive within the realm of bitter muteness. The fans remain taken aback solemnly, the two gladiators yet to display any alert or awareness. Just as the referee signals for the third fragment of the imperative count, Dustin Delta slowly stirs, as his upper projections begin to feel around, examining the battleground he finds himself by only his sense of touch. This development could not possibly bring any more joy to the GHW Faithful. The audience erupts in joyous cheers as the King of Hearts slowly, but surely, evaluates his whereabouts. Although only stricken by the curse of recoil, the King of the Deathmatch finds himself worlds away from the pain he experienced earlier in the contest. Dustin creates a firm clasp around the steel bars which support the squared circle’s frame through the ring’s skirt, and uses the low-level scaffolding as a provision to assist him in returning to a vertical base. Once he is too high to depend upon the buttress for aid, he captures the ropes in his fingers until he is able to regain a definitive and potent balance. Now that the undone man with the oddity of a moniker, “Alice”, is able stay cocked and erect on his own, he no longer needs to use only his sense of touch to evaluate the setting. Albeit his head is still reeling from his minor suicide mission, his eyes and ears are now attentive and are better poised to benefit his decision-making as the bout continues.

“6!” The adjudicator’s call beckons to out for the capacity crowd in the HSBC Arena to hear, thought it causes the most alarm for Dustin Delta. The two-year-veteran of Glory and Honor Wrestling tilts his skull both right and left, allowing for a relieving crack in his neck before he engages in his plan of action. As the tides had just turned in his favor moments ago, when he had avoided the jeopardous airborne offense made by the Assassin, the so-called Courier of Controversy looked to nail down the tables as a preventative measure – to keep them from turning to Dominick. As the referee signals for the seventh warning, the Sleepwalker takes several steps forward, not faltering as he neared his foe. Santiago was bent on his left knee, torso heaving as he took each breath, doing the best he could to regain the wind which was knocked out of him and the energy he had wasted. The man who claims to be a native of Deep Sleep wraps his right arm under the left bicep of the Californian, and his left arm crosses across the collarbone and Delta’s fingers create a tight bond near the left pectoral. With this tight lock around the head and left appendage of Dominick, the King of Hearts was enabled to drag the Lord of the Flies towards the squared circle, and roll him over the ring apron and beneath the bottom-most rope. Following immediately after, Dustin enters underneath the ropes and thusly, makes the arbiter’s 10-count null and void with a quick and definitive cancelation. Considering that the all-mighty Assassin was still in a stand-still as far as his limb’s mobility went, it seemed like an opportune moment for the Deathmatch Majesty to swipe up one leg and lay himself down over the sprawled out corpse of the world champion, in a pinfall attempt. The referee ducks down to the mat, ensuring that Santiago’s shoulders are meeting the canvas, and confirms!

“1!”

“2!”

But by the power of his will, the GHW Champion rolls his torso rightwards and uses his left arm to reach up, bringing his shoulder to a distance from the mat, frustrating the King of the Deathmatch.

“Although there are no emotional differences or parallel standpoints, there is some force that just keeps driving both men through this match! They know that while there’s no real issue or title on the line in this, there’s something different about this fight.”

“It’s pride, Elf. When Jamie Graves nicknamed this bout a ‘King of the Main Event’ match, both of these superstars wanted to win it more than anything. Look at it like this: The GHW Championship and the King of the Deathmatch Championship are the two most prestigious titles that our promotion has to offer. So one would believe that the two who hold them –“

“ – Or in some cases, the one.”

“- Are two of the best competitors we have to offer! Now that these two are pit against each other, they both want to prove they are the absolute best! The absolute apex of GHW rosters!”

“While I do agree with you, Matt, I think there’s something more behind this. Correct me if I’m wrong, but Santiago and Delta have met twice before in singles competition.”

“True.”

“And both times that they did battle before, who won?”

“Dominick Santiago.”

“Precisely, Matt! In the both times that Dominick defeated Dustin, he’s recorded a ledger of sorts, and wrote down everything in it with the blood of the King of the Deathmatch as an ink. Now, Delta’s ledger is full of red that he wants to wipe away. He wants to show the world that he isn’t only the master of deathmatches, but that he has the ability to defeat Dominick Santiago! And on Dominick’s end, he wants to put away the speculation once and for all. He wants to confirm what he believes he knows, in that he is infinitely superior to Dustin Delta! Both of these men hold pride in their ability to eradicate the other, not just their standings in the company.”

“I like the way you think, Elf. That insight made this match-up a helluva lot more interesting.”

Agony and agitation is the novel written on pages of Dustin Delta’s expression. In many ways, if one was to ‘read’ the face of the death-defying champion, they could almost create a narrative akin to ‘A Tale of Two Cities’, for Delta expressed both suffering and prosperity. The pain clobbered and bashed into him by the Lord of the Flies continues to canter about in his frame, but as he maintains a unambiguous mastery in this match-up. He is relieved that he was able to retain his championship title this past Sunday against the Technical Taskmaster, Jack Tracks, but Double D was bothered by this ongoing war in opposition to Dominick Santiago. An overabundance of contrasting melancholies was found in Delta, now the inquisition across the board was whether or not this would mutate into a factor in this bout, if it had not already.

Regardless of his rush of emotions and turning gears of thought, the King of Hearts does the best he can to keep his focus strictly on the task at hand. The California native has his arms extended as far as they can be, and he’s able to latch onto the ropes and drag himself over, attempting to get away from his challenge and work his way back up towards a fighting chance. However, the King of the Deathmatch does not seem to show any mercy towards the King of GHW. As Dominick Santiago just begins to get onto one bent knee, the Deathmatch Majesty drops down with an elbow, the joint making a sharp and distinct impact at the midpoint between both of the Assassin’s shoulderblades. As a reflex to counteract the instance of pain, Dominic arcs his back and contracts his shoulder, creating a valley in his back, where the spine was the lowest point. Panting and still in shock, the Lord of the Flies is has no defense as the Sleepwalker runs the ropes to their back and drives the sole of his foot into the small of Dom’s back. This second assault makes the innovator of the SKO arch back even more, so that his head and the foot of the leg which is not kneeling are on the same vertical plane. There is little time to lose – the calculating mind of Double D knows this fact all too well. As a million malicious possibilities swim in the sea of his mind, he fishes for the perfect method of torture. A malignant smirk crosses his face, and the crowd perks up and cheers on the King of Hearts with enthusiasm, interested to see just what maneuver he had in store. Now that Dustin’s one track mind was in this lane, he sped towards the finish line by stepping on the ankle of Dominick’s foot which was under his head, and stepped on the toes of the forward foot. Delta bends his knees, so that is arms are at level with Santiago’s neck, and wastes no time putting the Assassin in a conclusive submission hold by locking the head in under his right arm. Now, Santiago found himself relieved of the pain made by the two strikes to the back, but he’s entered a deeper circle of hell by getting trapped in this submission maneuver. As the Courier of Controversy pulls his arms back, or down, Dominick’s back arches more and more, stressing the spinal column and making the Lord of Flies yelp at the top of his lungs in search of some assistance or Houdini-like escape from this world of anguish and distress. Seeing as how his body was now in an arc, the position of his shoulders had changed, and his arms were drawn back in a such a way that the ropes now lay just out of reach of the Assassin’s fingers. The tips of his appendages would rub against the ropes, but in that moment, Dustin would pull him right back, wrenching on the spinal chord and column again and again. But Santiago refused to tap out.

“Here’s something we don’t see often from Dustin Delta!”

“Do you mean this submission hold? Because not only have I never seen Delta do it, but I believe this is the first time I’ve seen this attempted, much less executed!”

“Well, that’s not what I meant, but if you’d like, go ahead a coin another term for it. What I was talking about, Elf, was the fact that Dustin’s applying a submission maneuver to Dominick. While Double D takes good pride in his submission prowess, traditionally, he only pulls out a submission move when he’s in desperation and feels that his high-intensity strikes and in his deathmatch environment, hardcore innovations, just won’t do it. That speaks volumes about Dominick Santiago! By using this, this, spinal stretch of sorts, Delta is subtlety and subconsciously showing us that Dominick is a greater struggle than most.”

“…I’ll call it the Spinal Stretch.”

“You prick…”

“Eh, what can I say? Some things are naturally great, and just can’t be tampered with. That came naturally to you, and I’m great, so hell, it’ll work.”

“You wanna talk about greatness? Dominick Santiago embodies greatness, but right now, that great body is having some difficulties and I don’t know if he’ll be able to escape them.”

As his breathing slows and his muscles grow weaker and weaker with ache, a scowl begins to cross the profile of the Assassin. This spinal stretch, as the Hardcore Genius put it, had done enough damage, but would this really be the way he’d have to go down? Not swinging, but tapping his palm to the mat or his chest, begging to be released from the pain? Dominick Santiago was not one who enjoyed to be humiliated. No, his fetish preferences were much more sickly. Taking a deep breath, the Lord of the Flies locked his jaw in place, and his teeth grinded together as he made a last-chance effort to clasp the ropes in his hands – and he does! The audience’s enthusiastic excitement quickly turns to reluctant jeers as the referee signals for the King of Hearts to release the GHW Champion from the submission hold. However, Double D disobeys, and the official begins to count for a disqualification. While the first three gestures pass quickly with no action on Delta’s part, at the fourth count, Delta brings his right foot off the ankle and jabs his kneecap into the back of the Assassin. Double D brings his left foot up as well and uses his arms for a final pull-back, and Santiago’s grip on the ropes is broken. The Deathmatch Champion is successful in breaking his own submission hold, but directly transitioning into a half-Backstabber. The GHW Champion’s chest heaves and he rolls off of Delta’s bent knee, onto the canvas. Dom continues to roll, looking for a way to ease the pain without continuing to arch his back in away way or form. However, rolling around brings him very little success, if any at all. When the Lord of the Flies ceases, he finds himself on all fours, trying to formulate a methodical change of pace in his head. He turns his head to the right, and his immediate locus is the Dustin Delta’s person, who is now rebounding off of the ropes. At that moment, as Santiago realizes the King of the Deathmatch’s plan of action, he finally has the genesis of his own.

“This may be it, Matthew! Delta’s looking for that signature maneuver that put away the likes of Nicholas Carson, Ryan Hughes, and Mighty Man Millson!”

“Originally, the name ‘Elective Insomnia’ was coined for that move, but Delta told me he prefers to call it ‘The Wonderbolt’! And it’s about to strike Santiago in that woeful back of his!”

“Delta’s putting it all on the line here! It’s either he cleans his ledger of all that spilled blood, or he crashes and burns! The question is, will Dominick be the arsonist?”

The King of Hearts places it all on the line and plants both his feet on the back of the Assassin. In that moment, it was if Dominick was awoken. As he feels the feet
land on him, essentially converting his body into a stepping stone, Santiago extends the joint of each elbow and knee, pushing himself up with great speed. This also gives his opponent a bit more power in the jump. The cameras follow the Deathmatch Champion, and shows his eyes widening with an alarm of panic. While he knows what is to follow, he bends his right elbow nonetheless, and hopes for the best. The world itself seems to freeze, and the capacity crowd in the HSBC Arena watches on in shock and awe, as the Lord of the Flies catches the head of Double D in a jumping headlock. Though, this does not stop Dustin from placing his bent elbow right on top of the right shoulder of Dominick. Both superstars hit the canvas to the sound of a rowdy, explosion-like ovation as Delta eats an SKO, and Santiago is stricken by a weaker Wonderbolt! The combatants are sent reeling on the mat, both looking for a way to escape but knowing there'd be no way out until somebody went down for the pin.