The PPV has arrived, and titles are destined to change hands. It’s just a matter of which ones. Then on Monday night, there’s the fallout. Threats are made and alliances are put to the test.
Warnings/Promises: wrestling violence, reader involved, some blood (just a tiny bit and you really won’t mind who), so much talking (got to build to the next big thing!)
Word Count: 5450 (sorry, lots to cover)
Note: Okay, so the reader’s match came out super epic and a bit long. Hopefully, you guys think it’s worth the space! (Please let me know if you do.) Any and all feedback will be loved and appreciated. Tag lists and requests open as always. Enjoy!
Part 1: Welcome to the Team
Part 14: This Isn’t Over
Summer Slam – August 19, 2018 – Brooklyn, NY
The wrestling highlight of the summer started on a high note. Elias was in position, his Intercontinental Championship on his waist, and his commissioned matching guitar on his knee. He didn’t fill the air with petty words. Not that he would have been heard over the insistent ‘Walk With Elias’ chants that made his chest swell with pride.
“I can feel you startin’ to get it. No longer the lost, no longer the same, and I can see you starting to ascend. I’ll keep you alive, I’ll show you the way, forever and ever. Here is your sign to anyone not from Brooklyn.” The crowd quickly turned on him, but he was finished. Nothing more to give to ‘the city pictured next to the definition of a waste of space.’
The stage screens shifted as Baron Corbin’s music began to play. Brooklyn didn’t like him much better, but at the moment they held him higher than Elias. Techies quickly took Elias’s things away so the two men could circle one another. Jojo announced the championship match and the bell rang.
Elias made the first move. As many times as he could, he knocked Baron to the canvas. Six feet versus six-eight wasn’t the worst thing, but Elias was not going to allow any benefits. He kept his opponent constantly on the defense. Occasionally, Baron would separate himself enough to catch his breath. Elias would knock it right back out of him with stomach kicks and choke holds.
His body bounced under the ropes, then Baron swung around the ring post, coming up behind a winded and unsuspecting Elias. Baron knocked him to his knees. He continued to return the favor of his earlier beating. In this round, Baron had to ensure Elias couldn’t pick up any speed or grab hold of him and cripple him with his strength. He picked Elias up for a deep six, but he spun out and turned the maneuver into a DDT in his favor.
The upper hand had shifted again. From there, it was too difficult to see who maintained it. Each man was a fantastic athlete, and each was willing to do anything to leave the ring with the white and gold. Baron was stranded on top of a corner, giving Elias the chance to jump up and flip him over onto his back. Elias wobbled to his feet and Baron hopped on his back, attempting to take him down with a chokehold. Elias backed him up to another corner, forcing Baron to step high and into Elias’s trap. Baron’s legs got caught over Elias’s shoulders just before he was flipped around and finished with a halo powerbomb.
The Intercontinental Champion had successfully defended his title once again.
***
The match for the Raw Women’s Championship was next in line for the red brand. Nia Jax entered the arena alone, proud and strong as ever. Rhonda Rousey entered with Natalya Hart, who gave her one last hug for luck before leaving to watch the match from backstage. Both looked at the belt as the ref raised it high, both wide-eyed as if dreaming a trip to the moon for the first time.
Having fought before, the women were acquainted with the other’s usual first steps. Rhonda knew better than to try for another arm-bar. Nia knew better than to get to close too soon.
“Have I put enough work in, yet?” Rhonda asked.
Nia smiled and readied her stance. “We’ll know by the end of the match.”
Rhonda did much better this time around. She was patient. She never had her back to Nia. And she waited for Nia’s weaknesses to show before making her move. Nia was impressed. Rhonda continued to evade her advances and step ahead of her plans. The match was adding up towards a cerebral battle as much as a physical one.
And it was frustrating.
The match ended when Rhonda fell back into her old habits. The habits that never worked on Nia. As a result, Nia retained her belt. She held the red and white belt up high while Rhonda slapped at the canvas. She refused Nia’s hand and stood by herself, fuming.
“So close,” Nia said, unbothered by Rhonda’s glare. “You’ve been putting in the work, and it shows. But tonight, it still wasn’t enough.”
***
You were nervous. Scratch that. You were terrified. All the training, the working out, the rage that had burned through you, none of it felt real until this moment. Roman and Seth were already on the stage staring down the crew in the ring. Dean was by your side, bouncing.
“Do you want to go out to your own music, or come out with me?” He slowed his movements to a hyper vibrating to wait for your answer.
“No. You got me music, and this is the only time I’m going to get to use it. So I’m going to use it.” You nodded once and hard. Hopefully, he couldn’t see how your hands were shaking. He left to his music, and you soon followed.
Anybody could hit anybody. You knew Mickie was going to use that as much as she could. As for you, it would be lucky if you could hold your own with anyone.
The rhythm started out quick. Seth and Mojo started the fight with no discussion. Both were quick, but Mojo’s football days came into play and he tossed Seth across the ring into your corner. Roman tagged in and tried his hand, successfully running Mojo out of the ring so Drew could rotate in. The rotations continued, and you hoped it would never end. Then Mickie tagged in. Although anyone could hit anyone, she motioned for you to participate. You gulped and let Dean tag you, then slowly made your way through the ropes.
Mickie grinned. Like a lioness toying with a field mouse. She rushed at you and you did your best to stay your ground. Still, her power lock forced you back into ropes. You yelped as she grabbed your hair and tossed you into the center of the ring.
Keep moving. Don’t stop. Can’t get caught. Dodge, dip, and roll.
Unbeknownst to you, Dolph sneaked into the ring behind the ref and behind you. Dean scurried in to help. He bounced off the ropes closest to you and flew into Dolph, knocking him to the floor. You and the ref were distracted as the other two took out Seth and Roman on the apron and engaged them in a quick bout that left your teammates unavailable for tagging. Mickie rushed you and pinned you in her corner while tagging Dolph. You spun out as quickly as you could, finding yourself like a lone island as Dolph sauntered into the ring and Mickie made sure Dean was down.
“Shall we, sweetheart?”
Oh, you were going to knock that smug look right off his face. And you would have if Seth hadn’t made it to the corner. Biting your lip and eyeing Dolph, you tagged him and shrugged. The match got back to normal with few interruptions. You even began to enjoy yourself. At one point you poked Dean in the side. “This buzz is what you feel every week? How do you not explode?” You alternated cheering on the guys and taking your turn eagerly as well as you could. The oncoming storm was inevitable, so part of you knew neither Drew, Mojo, or Mickie was going to pin you. It wasn’t their pin. And you were getting antsy to end it.
“Shall we? Ziggler?” You tripped Drew on his way by, causing him to fall in their corner. He rolled over to lean against the turnbuckles and lifted up his hand so Dolph could tag in. Your team was exhausted. His team was exhausted. You both were breathing heavily. If was going to be ever, it had to be now.
He’d been holding out. Dolph mixed his skill with every trick in the book.
And you had been trained by the Architect, the Big Dog, those Woken, and those just looking to kick lass with Flair. Schooled by the archivist and statistics manager of Titus World Wide. And above all else: you were a ‘come up swingin’ Ambrose.
Jumping off the middle rope, you spun in the air and punched Dolph in the chin as hard as you could. He fell like a log. For a split second, you were frozen. Waking up, you rolled over the top of him for the pin.
One. Two. Three.
The guys joined you in the ring. Your celebrating was interrupted by grumbling coming from the mat. You saw blonde wobble into view over Seth’s shoulder. They parted in front of you, giving you the space to superkick Dolph. You stepped to one side to feel the cheers of the crowd wash over you. The ring shivered as Dolph was triple power bombed. When you turned back around, the guys were holding their fists together over Dolph’s body.
Then they shared a look, and Roman nodded at you.
You looked between each of their faces, Dolph, and the fist bump. Anxiously you glanced at Dean who gave you a big grin and inched over. Curling your fingers together, you added your fist to the group. Your cheeks hurt from squelching the smile that threatened to erupt and your leg bounced with the excess excitement. But one more look up at Dean sent you flying. You felt yourself smiling but only registered the supreme bliss you felt.
The pose broke apart with Dean clapping his hand on your back. He chuckled when you wrapped your arms around his waist. You wouldn’t have let go any time soon except he began to muss up your hair.
“Dean! No- ahhh!” Dean lifted you into the air and threw you over the ropes to Roman, who caught you despite your scrambling to wrap your arms around his neck for stability. “Shit! Why?” Once back on the ground, you took a deep breath. “Damn, it’s like I’m five years old again.”
Seth laughed. “Like a cat.” Dean joined him on the floor.
“Hey, can’t blame me for flashbacks. What the hell, Dean?”
Dean shrugged and wrapped his arm over your shoulder once Roman put you down. “I’ve got you back. Now I’m never going to lose you again. I promise.”
***
The Braun Strowman versus Brock Lesnar match went as most people thought it would. Someone in the crowd even had a giant whiteboard with tally-marks for each suplex and F-5.
And Braun was pissed.
Everyone agreed it was rightfully so. He’d fought to this chance and now he was going to take each missed day as possible champion out of Lesnar’s hide. Those two moves were not going to be enough to hold back the monster among men this time. Lesnar’s pride and accolades couldn’t save him. Paul Heyman yelled and screamed from ringside, directing his client in ways that ended badly. The spokesperson held his head in his hands, already fearing the fallout. If Lesnar was going to go, he wasn’t going to go without completely decimating his opponent. Several times Braun was at risk of failing to answer to a ten count from outside the ring. And several more trying to get to his feet inside the ring. By the end, he couldn’t lift his boots higher than Lesnar’s knees, though that was enough considering Lensar’s exhaustion. A weak powerslam would have to do.
There was a second of silence as Braun held Lesnar down for the count of three. Then there was pandemonium.
Braun was kneeling and had the belt in his hands.
Then the stage pulsed with red light.
For a second time, the crowd erupted. Finn Balor raced down the ramp with his contract in hand. He passed it to the referee, slapping his hand against it. The ref passed it towards the techies and nodded for Jojo to make the announcement.
“Finn Balor is cashing in his Money in the Bank Contract.”
Finn ripped off his jacket, leaving him in his bright red shorts and hands that looked like they had been dipped in blood. A bright eye watched his back from between his shoulder blades.
Braun was gasping for breath and didn’t even have the energy to deny the ref ripping the Universal Title from his hands. He made it to his feet and took a deep breath. Turning, he ran right into Finn’s assault. The destructive patterns suggested that it was not fully Finn in the ring.
However he did it, Braun fell in front of a corner. Balor eyed the crowd with a wicked grin and raced to the top of the ring post. He Coup de Gras-ed the last of Braun’s oxygen out of his chest.
One. Two. Three.
Balor snatched the title and laughed. He showed it to each side of the ring. On the floor, Brock Lensar was laughing, his lip bleeding slightly. Braun wasn’t doing anything. Except trying to breathe again. Balor took this all in with the brightest smile on his face. He ran up the ramp to the stage.
With both functioning arms, Balor lifted the belt above his head. His at last, no matter the cost.
***
Monday Night Raw – August 20, 2018 – Brooklyn, NY
“Style and grace, I’m never gonna be done. Lean on in. Now Welcome to the Queendom.”
Stephanie McMahon walked down to the ring. ‘Walked’ was too delicate a word. It was something closer to stomping but veiled in having complete control. Her fingers tapped at her elbow where her arms were crossed. “Summer Slam was a hit.” She was not pleased, though the crowd agreed with her. “Titles were retained. And titles changed hands. Which brings us to the most pressing matter at hand. Mr. Angle. If you could come out here, please.”
He did. Hesitantly but with shoulders rolled back.
“Last night Brock Lesnar lost to Braun Strowman.” She was unable to continue for a minute as the crowd reacted. “-to Braun Strowman. Who then immediately lost it to Finn Balor. Mr. Angle, if could explain yourself, that would be greatly appreciated.”
Kurt was confused. “What do I need to explain? You just-“
“You need to explain why you demanded Brock Lesnar’s attendance that resulted in his loss of the Universal Title.”
“Because he is a champion. And as such he has specific obligations to the WWE Universe, such as defending it. There are rules as to how often that’s supposed to happen… but Brock hasn’t been made to stick to that by. Not as often as he should have. What happened yesterday was the inevitable.”
Stephanie chuckled. “Kurt, Kurt, that’s a big word for mistake.” She paced to the ropes and back. “Because of Finn Balor’s cash in of his contract, he cut out the possibility of Brock Lesnar’s rematch. And, as such, he would have to earn an opportunity-“
“Like every other wrestler.” Kurt chuckled. “Wouldn’t that be a sight. The Beast incarnate having to fight like a common employee of this company. Such a terrible thought,” he mocked.
She nodded with pursed lips. “And Brock Lesnar doesn’t have time for that. He has made his final arrangements with the UFC and will be competing with them in the future. We had hoped that he could be the first to be champion of both, but your leadership shortcomings have ruined that.”
This was sounding like a different announcement than what Kurt had assumed. “Stephanie, I have been very clear with my leadership. I think if you would explain what you’re saying it would be greatly appreciated.”
“Brock Lesnar will no longer be competing in the WWE.” Stephanie stood fuming until the ruckus was starting to die down. “You have cost the company a great asset, Kurt. You overstepped your bounds as manager and now your ability to continue in your position is… under scrutiny. More so than it was before.”
Kurt nodded and took a deep breath. “To be a manager is to constantly put the needs of the wrestlers before my own. The time and energy it takes to wrangle the conflicting egos alone is enough to lose sleep over. Often managers have to get involved in matches. Like your brother has repeatedly. Like you and your husband, Triple H, have done. Like I did with Rhonda Rousey in Wrestlemania this year. She’s not under your thumb and now Brock Lesnar is no longer in your control. My ‘ablity’ is only under scrutiny because you’re mad that you will actually have to put in an effort to do right by your wrestlers.” He turned and bent to step out of the ring.
“Don’t you want away from me. Can’t you hear what I’m saying? You are at a high risk of losing your job. If that happens I will be finding your replacement. You may not like who I chose, so I suggest you do better if you care about ‘doing right’ by our wrestlers so much. I know you know how to do your job. You did once. We’d all like to see it again.”
“What more can I do, Stephanie?” he yelled. Planting his feet and sighing, he continued more in control. “What more can we do? For now, we both have a lot of thinking to do.” He finally left the ring, unsure about several things.
***
Despite the stiff tension that had just left the ring, Elias was proud and ready to perform. He sat on his stool and smiled brightly at the crowd.
“Another concert. Another retained championship. No matter the tune, the song stays the same. After all, WWE stands for?” He laughed as they responded enthusiastically. “Yes. Even here in this cockroach ridden hole of a town called Brooklyn. And most of those are sitting in this arena.” Elias played his guitar over the sounds of an unhappy audience. He sang one song. And after he had received praise, he sang another. “Know that tonight you are blessed. For I have been given a whole hour to give you all the concert that you need to hear.” He was beginning to play a third when music from the stage interrupted him.
“No. No. No. These people don’t need your music if you can honestly call it that.” Curt Hawkins strutted down the ramp. “What they deserve to see is the end of my losing streak. And on top of that, my first WWE championship win.”
“Your what?”
Curt smiled and entered the ring. He pointed his baton at Elias. “You heard me. Jojo, if you would.” He walked past Elias and handed his baton and mic to a techie on the floor. By the time he turned around to shadowbox, the guitar was swinging towards his face. He fell like a stone that had a tree dropped on it.
“Do not interrupt me!” Elias stomped around and crashed his guitar into the canvas next to Curt’s head. “I wish people would stop interrupting me. Every week. Every week!” He gave one last irritated kick to Curt’s side and left the ring.
***
“Kurt, listen to me,” Kevin Owens huffed and tried to keep his manager’s attention. A manager who was signing some things on your clipboard and gritting his teeth in frustration. “The Shield is not your friend. I know you fought with them last year a bit. But they… they… they’re friends with Finn Balor. That guy that’s got your job on the line. Let me challenge him-”
“Kevin, I really don’t have time for this. Do you have a point?”
Before he could answer, Elias stormed into Kurt’s office. Kevin ducked as he swung the guitar around. “Kurt, if you don’t do something about people interrupting me-“
“Man, nobody cares about your music.” Kevin tried to step back into Kurt’s focus. “Now, Kurt-“
Elias turned Kevin around and raised his splintered guitar. “Owens, if you don’t get out of my way-“
“Hey!” You passed Kurt your clipboard and stepped between the two men. “You two are better men than this. I’ve never seen you act like it.” You shook your head and your hands and tried to clear the air. “Doesn’t matter. Kevin. Get out.” He stared you down until Elias growled. Then he left in a hurry, leaving you to pop back into reality of where you were standing. “Okay. Um. The problem at hand. Right.” You glanced at Kurt and shrugged. “What about a concert series?”
“What?” they chorused.
“A, um, a series? A tournament? Maybe before each match, you can sing about your opponents, or about the city, we’ll be in. Or just play. I know how the muse can be fickle when the environment is unfriendly.” You took a second to breathe. Why did your heart feel like it was going to fly out of your chest? “Then, Mr. Angle, that keeps several of the guys busy. It’ll be an opportunity for the Intercontinental Championship, so they’ll be happy. Elias, you’ll get to show off your musical skills and more of your ring prowess. And hopefully, that will be fewer people complaining back to you, Mr. Angle.”
You waited on baited breath as the men hummed in thought.
“I like this.” Elias stepped past you and gave Kurt a hard pat on the shoulder. “Make it so.” He turned to leave but snapped as if remembering something. “If you’re still around next week.”
Behind you, you heard a sigh of relief. “Thank you. You know, you’re really good with quick thinking.” He handed you back your clipboard with a smile.
***
Nia Jax stood in the ring, waiting to pummel her local talent for the evening. The woman’s name was a blip in her memory and barely lasted five minutes past the bell. After the three count, she took her title from the ref and a mic.
“Here’s how things are going to go,” she started. “I am Raw women’s champion. Nobody has succeeded in changing that, and nobody is going to any time soon. I am the top of the women’s division. I proved that at Summer Slam against Rhonda Rousey; I can prove it time and time again. Tonight-“
The opening beats of Alexa Bliss’s music cut through the arena. “Now hang on just a second.” She planted her feet on the stage and smirked at Nia. “Sure. You proved it ‘this time.’ But acting like you’re going to hold onto it forever. Psh. Honey, you are not that good. You’ve got the power and the strength and the ring awareness, I’ll give you that. But you are not a goddess.”
“Is that so?” Nia sucked her teeth. “You know, I’d rather be me than a goddess who screams and runs at the first sign of real power.”
Alexa glowered at the ring and at the audience agreeing with the champion. “I know when to lose the battle so I can win the war. Unlike your opponent last night. Rhonda’s been here learning the ropes, but not the field. You haven’t had real competition in-“
Rhonda’s music played next. Alexa scurried down to ringside while Nia groaned. “You got something to say, little miss Bliss? Then you can say it to my face. You may be the goddess of WWE, but I’ve got skills unique to me. Ones that could easily pin you. I know I’m new. I get that every time I get pinned for some stupid mistake.” She shifted her focus to Nia. “Ones that I won’t be making again.”
Shaking her finger, Alexa said, “Nu-uh. You lost to Nia again. You’ve got to go to the back of the line now. And let others more skilled and tested than you get their chance.” She rolled into the ring as Rhonda walked down the ramp. She avoided bumping into Nia then realized she was outnumbered.
She was saved by the peppy intro for the Riott Squad. The trio circled the ring, then Ruby stepped up onto the apron. “You know. I think I agree with Rousey. It is easy to pin Alexa.” She laughed. “All you gotta do is corner her and leave her with no place to run. But to take out Rhonda? Hit her in the ring awareness. No one was going to hop the octagon fence and attack from behind, but here? You’ve always got to have someone watching your back.” She smiled wickedly as Liv Morgan reached out and tugged on Rhonda’s ponytail from behind. “As for Nia? Well. Like we learned from Alexa: hit her in the heart.” The three of them hopped through the ropes and froze as more music hit.
Bayley came out. And was promptly interrupted by Sasha Banks. The second woman had just passed the first on the stage when Alicia’s music played. Then Mickie’s. The two new women linked arms and bumped their way past the two former best friends.
“Enough!” Nia took her position back in the center of the ring. “If anybody had been listening, I was going to announce how any of you could earn a chance at this title.” She looked left and right to all the women who had joined her in the ring. “Next week, there is going to be a gauntlet match. I don’t care how you pick who the first two women will be, but the last woman standing will get a championship match at Hell in a Cell. We are the future, ladies. So let’s show the world what we are willing to give.”
She dropped the mic and left for the exit, carrying her belt high over her head.
***
You had to interview Kevin next. Apparently, some of his complainings had gotten through to Kurt because he wanted you to find out his plans for Hell in a Cell.
“Plans?” Kevin scoffed. “My plans are my own. And with management up in the air, I’m going to be making them myself. But enough about me.” He stole your mic and changed his stance as if announcing the weather. “We know a little about your history, but what about your thoughts on how Summer Slam went for you. How did you enjoy your first pay per view in-ring action?”
You sighed. “Well-“
“For someone as inexperienced as you, you did pretty well. But for someone who had all those legendary trainers and the like, you didn’t do as well as you could have.”
“At least I had a match at Summer Slam. Not bad, right?” You reached for your mic, but he held it past your reach.
“Honestly, I can’t blame you. Three of your teachers aren’t what they used to be. Rollins lost his spunk when he lost the Intercontinental to Elias. Roman has been running himself to death to please people who wouldn’t give him the time of day. And Dean…” Kevin barked a laugh. “Did Dean ever have his mind to begin with?”
You crossed your arms over your chest. “Right. Like you’ve never destroyed the one good thing in your career by stabbing it in the back. Oh wait, I read Dana’s notes. You’ve done that several times, haven’t you?”
Kevin’s knuckles turned white around the mic handle. He bared his teeth and stepped to you, then a large hand landed on his shoulder and pulled him back.
“Hey, Y/N. You okay?” Roman tightened his grip on Kevin’s shoulder. Dean swung around and plunked the mic from his hands to give it back to you. Seth took a position on Kevin’s other side.
“I’m good. Kevin was just telling me how much he liked our match yesterday.”
He ground his teeth. “No. I… your match a catastrophe. Chaos everywhere. And you,” he shoved a finger into your face, “you only got the pin with a lucky punch. If that had failed, these three wouldn’t have been able to help you. These shadows did nothing but suck you into trouble.”
Dean lowered Kevin’s hand out of your face. “And you’re talking yourself into trouble. Again.”
Kevin puffed, shrugging Roman’s grip off his shoulder. “Again? Not that the trouble was all that much before, right Ambrose? You’re to busy being happy about being back with your brothers that you can’t see the damage. None of you could give me enough trouble even to wind me. Not even the big dog himself.”
Oh, there was a thought.
“Hey, why not?” They all looked at you. “Mr. Owens, you were looking for a match tonight.” You smiled and motioned around. “Pick one. Mr. Angle signed that you could have a match. Said you could have someone in your corner too.”
Seth nodded. “Yeah. And the other two could be on commentary. Haven’t done that in a while,” he said to himself.
Kevin realized with a start that he was surrounded with no way to get out. His Adam apple bobbed. You watched bemused as the wheels in his head turned at full power. “Not that it matters,” he said. “Roman. Good a match as any.” He twisted and ducked to get away.
***
Down the hall, Kevin caught his breath. He stepped faster as he spotted some possible ring help. “You guys aren’t doing anything tonight, right?”
Dolph Ziggler and Drew McIntyre were sitting on a crate discussing something on Dolph’s phone. Mojo was close by, lacing up his boots. He turned and walked the other way as Kevin approached. Dolph and Drew could not make as quick as an escape.
“Hold it right there.” Dolph stood. “We are not going out to the ring. Not with you.”
“Why not?”
Drew snickered. “Our plans are our own.” They laughed at Kevin’s desperate face and left to find a new scheming spot.
***
Seth and Dean had a lot of fun on commentary. Roman had fun in the ring. Kevin did not have fun. Even when he gained the upper hand for a minute or two, he was still working defense in an effort to catch up.
Kevin left the ring and took the loss by count-out. This was not the match he wanted. And he was not going to waste his energy on it any further.
The Shield was more than happy to mock him on his way out of the arena.
***
The mood of Braun Strowman was nothing like it had been on Sunday. The only thing more terrifying than a pacing monster was one who stood still and held an almost unblinking gaze.
“During Summer Slam, the earlier part of it, I was in control of my own fate.” Braun’s chest heaved with a steadying breath. “If I had failed to pin Brock Lesnar, it would have been because of my own lack of skill. But I didn’t. I won the Universal Championship with my own two hands. I held the title with these same hands and had the world at my feet. And then…” He growled and rolled his neck. “Then it was taken from me.” He turned to the stage. “Finn Balor, I want my rematch!”
The crow cheered, then cheered louder as Finn’s face showed up on the titantron.
He giggled. “I have to thank you, Braun. Because of how things went last night, I’m not the shortest reigning Universal Champion anymore. You are.” He stroked the title hanging over his shoulder.
“Why don’t you come down here so we can fix that?” Braun dropped his mic.
“Of course.” The screen flickered. Finn’s face was cast in red light and shadow before disappearing.
In the arena, red lights pulsed on the stage. The smoke rose and the music started. Balor emerged. Dreds and ribbons and blood-red hands crawled their way down to the ring with the Universal title around the waist of the demon king.
Braun backed into the lower corner. This wasn’t going to scare him. He’d once been a Wyatt.
It should have though.
Balor was unlike anything Braun had ever fought before. Where Finn was predictable due to his tried and tested methods, Balor was just as unpredictable. He moved differently. Hit differently. Spotted and took advantage of weaknesses differently. Braun did the best he could. But he hit a wall. Sunday’s match took its pound of flesh and left the mangled remains to Balor to play with. The Monster knew he was in trouble when the demon didn’t want to play; he wanted to retain his crown. Every aching muscle, every strained limb was a target.
One. Two. Three.
Balor crawled back to the stage with his prize. He stood and held it high. Reigning and defended.
Part 16: Bigger Problems
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