Match 4

Vin Halsted  vs Drake Nygma

Silence unfolds in majestic brilliance, wisps of wind unfurling around the tall and eerily pale form of Drake Nygma. The AWS Global Championship resting over his right shoulder, a hungry look flickered in the depths of his eyes that evoked the appearance of a being who had lived long, experienced plenty. 

A faint impassive look flashed outwards, a silvery light masking his inner darkness. Such was the juxtaposition that was Drake Nygma, capable of wielding immense darkness and immense light. His identity was in flux, a state of rapid change, evolution at its finest, an evolution that wrapped both body and mind in its grasp.

Visions of haunting darkness flashed behind his eyes, a growl escaping his throat. A growl akin to that of a wild animal held captive.

Earth. An unknown number of years ago.

The scent of dirt and rain flowed through the air, dust rose up as though it were a living entity all of its own. Stalks of brilliant green grass stood out amidst the wreckage of his now crashed aircraft, the image of a golden ankh just visible on the side of it. In the distance the tall slender figure was now trapped inside a off the books base of some kind. 

A plain black bodysuit enshrined his form, a sort of odd looking uniform that was made of a strange material without name. A series of noises, voices talking caught his attention, causing his form to tense up, to stiffen, a voice in his mind warning him that he didn’t know where he was, much less when he was.

Then came the sharp stabbing pain, needles and knives piercing his flesh, bright lights flashed before his eyes, a growl erupted from his vocal cords, the sound of an angry creature whose body and mind had awoken in a strange situation that they did not understand at all. 

???: “You are awake, this is impressive. Most subjects don’t wake up at all. The fact remains now that you’ve woken up, it's time to see what you are, we know you aren’t human.”

Just like the voices cut out as the sharp stabbing pain began all over again, howls of aggression flickered through the air. For a brief moment he spotted a single number marking the wall. 51. A number that made little sense, what could the number 51 mean?.

Shaking his head as he returned to the present Drake could feel that something had altered, that a memory of some agonising sensation had come to the forefront of his mind. A sensation, a memory that he would need to unravel later.

“Vin Halsted, the Matt Wilson legacy champion, is regarded as a pure championship in this world. Your talent has not gone unnoticed. Your willingness to do anything to win is commendable, The idea of fighting you brings a smile to our face, do bring all the violence you can muster, make sure to bring your absolute best. You are not fighting a regular human, not in the slightest. I was never human, the truth of our origin is not so simple as being human.”

Raspy amused laughter spilled out, the sound like nails scraping against a chalkboard.

“You crave championships, you crave victory. So do I. The difference between you and I? I crave violence, I have learned to enjoy the violence, to find strength in pain. That is what sets us apart from those you’ve battled before.”

Drake’s expression turned in a smile that was nothing sane, nothing warm or empathic. This was the smile of a madman whose mind had long since broken into several pieces.

“You’re all prisoners. What you call sanity, it’s just a prison in your mind that stops you from seeing that you’re just tiny little cogs in a giant absurd machine. Wake up! Why be a cog? Be free like us. Just remember, smile.”

Chaotic and haunting laughter filled the air as the camera faded to black.