Where's your shining Knight? (Spoiler Nicole)

[Lacey Cadavre]

The screams, the flailing of an arm against the mat...

It was glorious. Nicole Storm was tapping out to the Twisting of her Limbs... Oh... the tearing... the straining of Lacey's muscles striving for that popping sensation to ripple throughout Nicole's body. Then... She just stops. Light of achieving the damaging effects that her LORD wishes upon everybody.

What is this? She walks to the side of the ring, grabbing a microphone she had concealed, and, another small black object. She holds it up, walking towards the center of the ring, the crowd wondering why the Cell hasn't been risen yet...

"What you all see here... in my hand, is a cellular phone.

A marvel of our modern society... much smaller than it's predecessors, know? In certain circumstances... they can be known as life savers.

This is one such chance.

A shining knight is there to save you, correct Nicole Storm?

PLACE THE NUMBER ON THE SCREENS!"

The cell phone number appears on the screens... as does something else. The video of the crying Denise Storm. Watching her poor, poor mother get deliciously destroyed in front of her very own, young eyes. No, we're not hiding the innocence of children from the violence we shed... oh no. This will be most beneficial for her to learn...

"ELIZABETH KNIGHT!

You have five minutes. Place the call. Now. We want what you hide.

We want him. Risen from his own ashes.

It's that simple. In fact... let me find you some encouragement...a s I'm not done playing with Ms. Storm just yet. The longer you take, the more she takes... from..."

She points to the entrance ramp...

[interested]

A certain man in the form of Bryan Colombain had appeared at the entrance ramp, just as Lacey had commanded. Bryan's second failed attempt in capturing the Continental Championship - a chance he felt he should have had alone against Genesis - had left a VERY bitter taste in his mouth. Right now, he needed to take the anger out on someone. Unfortunately for Nicole, she would be the potential victim. Walking down the ramp, his eyes fixed on the target in the ring. Was Bryan getting something out of this? Well, as long as events follow through in place, then yes. Finishing off the ramp, Bryan stood on the outside of the Cage, glaring at Nicole with a malicious intent. He wanted blood, plain and simple.

"..."

Silent, but you could tell he didn't need words for what may happen.

[Lacey Cadavre]

"Three minutes, Elizabeth... three minutes.

Where's the "Savior," at... hm?

He rises from the dead, doesn't he?"

An evil cackle as she watches Colombain's intimidating posture staring down Nicole...

"Two minutes..."

Suddenly, Lacey's phone begins to ring, it's sounds caught over the microphone. Smiling sadistically, she brings the device to the microphone, walking over to Nicole and placing her boot over her chest.

"Miss Knight... a pleasant surprise... isn't it? Hm? Where is he..."

Bazztard: "This is ludicrous... if she's after who I think she is... I read those news articles like the rest of the world! Jon Pryor is dead, leave her and the kid out of this!"

[alphaf]

Elizabeth indeed was on the other line. Jon protested the living hell out of this, the number could be traced, everything... until Denise was shown on the screen. He knows Bryan Colombain all too well... as it was originally him who ended Jon's career with that initial concussion.

"A child involved in this. You bring a small child into this... just to get at me... when it's not even me you want?"

This phone call was going on live for all to see, she could hear the volume from the lowered television resonating her voice throughout the stands.

[Lacey Cadavre]

"I'm a bitch, I know. It's so sad, isn't it? All that is suffering, just because a cockroach won't die... right?"

She can see the fans looking at each other in the arena... this was starting to look more and more like it wasn't part of the show anymore... the thin guise that they did have was that this was professional wrestling... and ANYTHING happens in professional wrestling. CEO's even blow themselves up in limos...

God, did Lacey love America's dumbed down approach to everything... already shielded against violence and serious situations...

"Your friend is already down and out... that arm of hers will be useless for weeks as it is. Pity what I could do to her right now with how helpless she is.

Then the little girl soon after.

All... if... you... don't... play... ball.

Are you ready for a game, Elizabeth?"

[alphaf]

She sighed. Defeated. There was no getting out of this... her watering eyes traced to Jon's, who was resting his jaw in his chin atop of folded arm.

"What do I have to d---*

The phone is taken from her...

[Jon Pryor]

Right into the hands of Jon Pryor, who placed his hand on her shoulder before putting the phone to his ear.

"I believe that I'm the one that you're looking for..."

Over the phone, he can hear a collective sound of astonishment throughout the crowd. Dead man walking, the effect that it has over everyone, no?

"So... let's get down to business... since it's apparent that you're one of Devereux's lap dogs... what is it that WE have to do..."

[Lacey Cadavre]

Oh, was this not just delicious. She could see Colombain's ears perk up... the very sound that had been torturing him since the summer was resonating over the arena's speaker system. The audience was silent. They just heard a "dead man" speak.

"Mr. Pryor... a pleasure to hear you haven't lost your voice yet, I'm sure that your screams will be...

... sweet."

Delicious laughter escapes her lips. The cat corners the mouse, the mouse makes one last ditch attempt to flee, bite, save it's life, while the cat toys with it.

Toys so very nicely...

"Simple... Mr. Pryor... LockUP!. I want you and your little girlfriend in Providence, Rhode Island on April Twentieth. There, the true games begin. There, I bring my heavily muscled friend. There, I bring myself. There, I meet you and your girlfriend, friend, pity-fuck, whatever she is to you...

And we meet in the ring. It's not done for you. I made a promise... I will deliver.

Bryan Colombain, he wishes to meet you. Wishes to see you once again.

In the Danger Zone.

There, not only will my work have ended... but two long tales of suffering will end. Three, if you count the girl that will only be returned to her mother at that point.

In a match of my choosing, you will face Bryan. Your spectacular ending this time will not be something quiet, under wraps like last time... where you're easily capable of slipping away with the right amount of money and luck.

Oh no.

Public, decimation of Jon Pryor.

All in HIS name.

Amen."

The phone clicked shut, the fans started booing at Lacey Cadavre. Was it all for show? The mindless sheep would never know the difference, the legalities of a sanctioned match make the public execution that much... more... sweeter.

And the monster she can employ?

He looks hungry.

[Alexander Amesley]

"Quite the protagonist is she not Ash? I couldn't be more proud of my dear Lacey. Simply merciless she is."

"I must agree sir. She seems to possess quite the ability for treachery I see. Perhaps the most successful sentinel archetype thus far. I must admit I am thoroughly impressed with the results, but what of the other sir? 143? We surely aren’t going to confine her to the depths of the Labyrinth for the remainder of her…”

“Of course not. I have alternate plans for 143 my old friend. Wonderful things one couldn’t even possible fathom becoming reality. Ha Ha. Perhaps even greater than the creation we see before us.”

“…”

“No need for shock Ash. I assure you I have no intention of halting the advances in evolution I’ve just begun. The world is always, and always will be, in need of…Great change.”

+A spectator to the entire sequence unfolding before those in attendance, as well as those whom had graced the very location in which he watched tentatively since the inception of this unexpected treat his dear Lacey had concocted. The light chatter from his staff surrounding him, drowned out by the feeling of euphoria coming over him as he reveled in the madness caused by his greatest creation to date. Until...+

“Uh…Sir?...”

+The lone female staff member within the confines of the heart of the Labyrinth calling out to the man partly responsible for the horrible actions portrayed on the screen before them. Ignored at first, Alexander’s attention slowly but surely turned to the direction from which her voice had called out to him, merely raising an eyebrow as he nodded slightly…+

“Sir, we…There seems to be a…Problem…”

“Isn’t there always. Proceed my dear.”

“There…We’re picking up trace signals of a separate pattern of dual alpha and beta waves in the Chicago area. They’re really, really close actually.”

+A deep rooted sigh escaped Alexander’s lips as he refocused his attention the so entertaining madness taking place on the screen before him, commenting barely audible…+

“Just as with the previous instant of such an occurrence, it’s merely 143 I assure you.”

“That’s, what we initially thought too sir but…We have…Three signals on the screen…Right now…”

+An inquisitive demeanor crossing his face, his frame slowly leaning forward within the chair which supported his body during this impromptu show of sorts, as he responded…+

“That’s impossible. There must be some error in the calculations…Unless…”

“She’s…Come back?...”

+Undeniable silence engulfed the room instantly, all staff members fully comprehending the ramifications of the mere idea of such an instant occurring. No words were spoken, all present awaiting Alexander to address the possibility of the lone lost sentinel’s return…Home? Slowly standing from his seat, he methodically found his way to the screen in question, his eyes widening at what he saw, confirmation that there was in fact cause for concern. Anger began to rise within him, the memories of one of his greatest experiments came flooding back to him in waves as his eyes lowered towards the floor beneath him as he spoke the words…+

“Asher…Prepare two sweeper teams for immediate deployment. Locate precisely where those signals are emanating from. And in the highly unlikely event that it is in fact whom we believe it to be…Be sure that by the end of this very day, we are one sentinel short gentlemen. Make haste.”