The fangs in shadows part 1.5

I finally reached the back room. I saw all of the new wrestlers and old ones. John the gator was wearing all-black robes and sitting beside his pet gator. It was an Albino's. It had a name tag that said, snowflake princess. I laugh at the name tag but then at John holding my hand. So you are mr Showtime, huh? Well, brother, if you are an old North American pure breed like me, then we will be brothers regardless of the match's outcome, said John the gator. He gave me a firm and strong hand. His hand was rigid like a gator hide. I sit next to him, watching the holographic TV displaying the match. John Gator motioned his hand to pay attention. They finally showed my match, my first debut, and the title match. I watched the screen to see the intro for each grave keeper.

I heard a long church bell ring that was demonic; an orchestra of cultists sang the songs of Vulix, Candle, and Enslaved people, And holograms were projecting demons; black and purple smog spread everywhere in the area, causing some fans to choke. People held up signs that said we are the children of the one who tortured outer gods and grand gods for fun. It was pig blood all over the signs. The grave keepers teleported in the middle of the ring as their auras all combined to make a massive dreadful mass of energy that looked like a gigantic smiling moon with bleeding eyes, I thought to myself as I watched the screen. Was I tripping off the easter Sunday morning? I watched on the back door entrance TV hologram as robe cults in purple and black bring a black goat, white goat, and grey lamb. Judge Verim stepped forth, pulled out a dagger, and cut the throat of the black goat, pouring blood on him and his brothers. He ate the raw flesh, grabbed the goat's intestine, and then wrapped it around his head like a turban of flesh. He ripped the flesh of The black goat, pulling his mask down and eating the raw flesh; the cult members had smiles of glee as they watched the barbaric ritual. Then Bloodra, with his bare hands, rips the gray goat in half as black and crimson blood flows all over him; some cults dance around him as he pours blood all over the cult members and the crowd. The executioner's tomb summoned an iron of dark royal purple angry and crimson hues. I watch as the cult members drag the last seal in the iron madien that levitates in the air and pour goat blood and flesh every spray the hell cell ring and ring cage. The song of dread goes louder and louder. I took a small spoon and ran into the bathroom. I go into the stall. There are performance-enchanting drugs and needless all over the floor. I take a little bump off the Easter Sunday

As the arena lights dimmed and the crowd's roar filled the air, the tension between me and the Sons of Vulix, the Gravekeepers, was palpable. The ring was surrounded by a haze of smoke and flashing lights, adding an eerie ambiance to the already-charged atmosphere. I could smell the scent of death and decay before I even made an entrance. It was like I was walking in a slaughterhouse. The smell was so foul, and overwhelming members of the crowds wore gas masks to protect themselves from foul stench.

On the other hand, my entrance was met with awe, jealousy, envy, and fear from the audience as I  strutted down the ramp, exuding confidence and swagger in my elaborate attire. The white fur mink coat billowed behind you, a big classic cowboy hat that screamed Texas, a big classic cowboy luxury belt, and white gold fireworks shot up in the area; the area rained buckets of cash, making the crowd go wild trying to take all the bills, catching the glint of the spotlights as I made my way to hell and the cell ring. My golden and white snakeskin boots against the metal ramp echoed throughout the arena, and my watch caught the eyes of fans as they Saw the diamond dance from the light that reflected on it; I had my golden and white Luchador-inspired pants that had golden gems attracted to it was punctuating the silence falling over the crowd. I ran up to the members of the crowd who were my fans, hugged them, took corny selfies, gave one of my pairs of glasses, and then gave one a signed shirt. I could see the joy. In the eyes of this young kid with long gray dreadlocks and light oak brown skin, he wore a shirt with a detective on. It made my day. Honestly, I care about my kid fans. The adults, on the other hand, can make me cringe or piss me off.

As I  climbed into the ring, the Sons of the Gravekeepers stood opposite me, imposing figures casting long shadows in the dim light. The shadows look like a pack of hell hound's getting ready to pounce on prey. The eerie glow of their satanic goat masks seemed to pierce through the darkness, giving them a menacing and otherworldly presence and cosmic. It felt like my heart stood still at this moment, but my energy and chi rose from the easter morning Sunday as I felt my aura ported. A pink and purple aura increased with every layer of fear I felt at that moment. I felt at first fear, but then the flames of rage ignited with my heart, mind, and soul. I felt like I was a bull seeing red for the first time. I was ready for this fight; I thought as I watched the body grave keepers stare into my very soul like they wanted to tear me limb from limb. The last brother was cutting his wrist, and his skin turned pale.

The referee signaled for the match to begin, and the tension in the air reached a fever pitch. The clash between my luxurious flamboyant, flexing all-America classic bodybuilder persona and the Sons of the Gravekeepers' ominous aura promised a battle unlike any other; this was going be a fucking spectacle that would go down in wrestling history if I won or not because I'm going give them more hell than the little demons they worship. It was like an air conditioning stop; The air was filled with multiple flying demonic beings and creatures beyond my comprehension. I saw colors that I thought my imagination couldn't even think of. The face of Bloodra turns into a realistic bat hybrid with long, bloody fangs. The bat part spreads to make it look more like a werebat; the area lights turn crimson red, and the crowd is dead silent, frozen in time. Even the referee was frozen. Judge Vermin's head kept twisting rapidly like a bobblehead from hell; He grew large bat-like wings.

Time went back to normal, and I heard the loud noise of the crowd. It was a thunderous roar like I was in a Roman gladiator Colosseum.

As the bell rang, signaling the start of the match, the arena erupted into chaos. The clash of titans had begun, with each move and countermove met with thunderous cheers and gasps from the crowd. The ring became a battleground where larger-than-life personalities collided in a showdown of epic proportions. I grabbed Judge Vermin by the head, crashing it multiple times into a steel chair in the ring; I could hear him laugh and scream with every blow. I would see his eyes glow with glee and pleasure like he had hit the most brutal bump of all time. I tossed him on the side as I felt the hands and arms of Bloodra warp around as his body slammed into an extended food court table. Fucck, you, goat fuckers,. I curl up from my lower back hurts. The haters in the crowd cheer louder and louder. But I heard my fans say get up multiple times, so I got back on myself to hit Bloodra with various mixed combinations of boxing techniques. I hit his chest with heavy blows, making him fall backward; Judge Vermin grabbed me from behind, and the executioner's tomb grabbed me as well. They felt like they were locking me down. Bloodra grabbed an iron bat and hit my stomach ten times, slow but heavily back to back. I spit blood as I felt vermin grab my head and punch me in the face three times harder and harder. I could feel his rage behind the blows. His knuckles felt like a club with hidden blades.

I then felt my muscles increasing in mass, and I broke free, kicking off Judge Vermin; I put Bloodra in a chokehold and then slammed him into the table. Executioner Tomb kicked me in my stomach, sending me flying on the ropes of the ring.

Wow, this is a ticking time bomb that has exploded. We have the undefeated wrestling trio from the depths of the darkness, The Son of Vulix grave keepers, versus Mr.Showtime, Mr. Plae, the old American show stopper. This is the first match so far. It does look so good for Mr. Showtime, Jim said the wrestling host announcer with a hype energy and passion in his voice.

The outcome of this match would not only determine the victor but also etch a new chapter in the annals of wrestling lore, a tale of a new rivalry, spectacle, and the indomitable spirit of the competitors who dared to step into the ring to display a fight that will be a battle between dark and light Rodrick this match is going to have a special said Jim the main announcer he goes on a ten-minute rant on the glory of wrestling and combat sports.

The intensity between me and the Sons of the Gravekeepers peaked as the match unfolded. The ring became a stage for a performance, a dance with the Dutchess death unlike any other, a dance of power and skill that captivated the audience with each move, parry, and counter. Whenever I thought I had the upper hand, these sons of births would get ready with a heavy blow that barged me with attacks. Judge vermin broke my left arm by bending until it snapped, hitting with steel countless times. I could see the bloodlust in his eyes from his damaged mask. I felt the peak of the Easter Sunday morning peak. It was incredible and inane. I felt a boost of energy and chi like never before. I saw the fear in the eyes of the tiro as they burned from my chi aura, slowly their skin turning into ash.

I then got a second wind. I felt a berserker rage come over me. I fix my arm as I push off all of the grave keepers. I grab Bloodra, take him on the top rope, then flip him over, slamming him into a table and breaking it. A larger-than-life presence commanded attention; each gesture and taunt met with a roar of approval from the crowd. The Sons of the Gravekeepers, with their brute strength and intimidating presence, fought back fiercely, their every move calculated and precise. Judge Vermin grabbed a metal bat and hit me in the head, but the bat broke in half and melted from my body heat alone.

This clash of styles and personas created a dynamic spectacle that kept the audience on the edge of their seats. The ring was a canvas where Mr.Showtime and The grave keepers were painted in sweat, determination, pain, fear, and hope, where every moment held the promise of victory or defeat. Dave  Cambridge, the wrestling announcer, said it's an ever-switching tide. He leaned forward and spilled his cup of wine on his lap.

As the match neared its climax, high-flying maneuvers and bone-crunching slams electrified the arena, sending shockwaves of excitement through the crowd. The tension was palpable, the stakes higher than ever as the battle raged. I was slammed by Jude vermin as the cage electrified me, and the spikes on the cell stabbed me. I felt like the air was knocked out of the wind of me.

This is a hell of a match in hell in our cell. The tides of this battle are a chaotic tide of pain and suffering, but who do you have your money on, Jim? Dave screamed excitedly as he jumped up, almost making his headset disappear.

I  rallied against the Sons of the Gravekeepers in sheer determination and grit, unleashing a flurry of signature moves and finishing maneuvers that left the audience in awe. The ring shook with the impact of each blow, the drama unfolding with every pinfall and near fall.

Finally, in a pivotal moment that seemed to freeze time, I delivered the decisive blow that secured my victory. The arena erupted in a deafening roar of applause and cheers, a standing ovation for a performance that transcended mere entertainment. Fireworks burst, and the crowd threw a fit I had never seen before.

As I stood victorious in the center of the ring, I was pumping my fist in the air, jumping up and down. I was basking in the crowd's adulation; I knew this moment would forever be in the worldwide wrestling war and sports history. The clash with the Sons of the Gravekeepers had tested my mettle and pushed me to my limits, I thought at the time, but in the end, I emerged triumphant, a champion in every sense of the word. The referee passed me the championship heavyweight division. It's a white and gold belt with a bald eagle on it.

As the dust settled and the echoes of the intense match faded into the background, I stood in the center of the ring with a huge smile showing my gold teeth, adrenaline, and chi still coursing through my veins. The crowd's cheers and applause washed over me like a wave of validation, confirming my championship victory and solidifying my status as a wrestling icon. I thought in my head that if I kept this up, I might be able to join the legendary wrestling warlord Hall of Fame.

The Sons of the Gravekeepers defeated but not broken, slowly made their way out of the ring. Their imposing figures were now humbled, but I could see the rage burn in their eyes. The match's outcome didn't stop the darkness in their hearts. Despite the loss, newfound respect lingered between my formidable opponents and me, a mutual understanding forged in a battle that one day, we would meet again on an enormous battlefield to bathe the victor's blood.

The arena buzzed with excitement and chatter as fans discussed the epic showdown they had just witnessed. My victory entertained the masses and left an indelible mark on professional wrestling, a performance that would be remembered for years.

Backstage, amid the hustle and bustle of the post-match chaos, I was greeted by a sea of well-wishers and fellow wrestlers, all eager to congratulate Me on my triumph. The camaraderie and respect shared among colleagues added to the sense of accomplishment that filled the air. The media running in hit me with a barrage of questions. I throw a heart sign, then dash to my trailer

As I took off my jewelry and shoes, I peeled off my extravagant costume and wiped away the sweat of the match; a sense of satisfaction washed over me as I smoked the leftover tail that Dave left in my trailer ashtray. The journey to this moment had been long and challenging, but the victory was sweet and well-earned; a testament to my dedication and passion for the sport was undying, but I was happy about the prize money. I can finally move out of fucking black creek

Looking ahead, I knew that more challenges and rivalries awaited, each an opportunity to push yourself further and continue to leave your mark on the professional wrestling world, maybe even the universe. With the taste of victory still fresh in my mind, I was ready to face whatever lay ahead, confident in my abilities and hungry for more triumphs. I thought as I held the belt for the heavyweight division championship title.

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