2/16/17 - Vengeance, Sanguine Cut Dual Promo
The Khellegher School of Wrestling sits in a tiny building in the Bronx, wedged in between a grocery store and an apartment complex. The sign on the front is old and faded – there isn’t even an email listed. If you were to approach the pockmarked wooden door on any regular day of the week, you might hear the sounds of bodies hitting the mat, trainers giving pointers, or hands hitting a heavy bag. But today is not a normal day.
“PALADIN!” The yell is short, sharp. Everything in the room stops as John Khellegher, the head trainer better known to AAW fans as Vengeance, strides into the room. He’s dressed in a regular t-shirt and jeans, his long black hair tied into a tight ponytail.
In the middle of the room is a ring that’s seen better days. The mat is stained with sweat, the ropes look a little too loose, and the ceiling is too low for anyone to be jumping off the top rope. John climbs up to the apron and looks around.
“Where is he?” he barks at the nearest student.
“I’m right here, John.” The man who walks in next is dressed immaculately: Richard Paladin, the owner of Paladin Broadcasting Network, and current Acting Head Coach of the Khellegher School of Wrestling. He wears a tailored suit, freshly pressed. His hair is short and businesslike, and only just showing a touch of grey at the temples. Somehow, even in a school as dirty as this, Richard Paladin looks untouched.
“How did this happen, Richard?” The anger hasn’t left John; he’s gripping the ropes so hard his knuckles are white.
“I could have told you all about this on the phone, John. There was no need to fly all the way out here.” Paladin and Khellegher are on the opposite sides of the ring now, but Paladin doesn’t climb up. “Why don’t we step into my office and we can talk about this?”
“That’s not your office,” Khellegher growls.
Paladin looks around at the students, sighs, shakes his head, and steps up and into the ring. Khellegher climbs in as well.
“Fine, we can talk about this here. Dani got careless and she got hurt, John, it happens. I don’t see why you had to fly all the way down – "
“She’s in the hospital, Richard. This isn’t a scraped knee. How did this happen on your watch? I talked to some of the students on my way in. They said you’ve been pushing them too hard, making them work long hours and overdo drills. What’s going on here?”
“You left me in charge, John. You ran off and made a deal with a different television network, and you left me in charge. So I wanted to get your students ready for their supposed AAW debuts. When is that happening, by the way? I have yet to see a single student of this school have a match in San Luis Obispo. That is the reason you signed with them, isn’t it? Because you told us – "
John steps forward, and gets right in Paladin’s face. Paladin only flinches a little. “I know what I told you. Run the school how I laid it out.”
A slow smile spreads on Paladin’s face, and his next words are a whisper. “You can’t touch me, John. I own this place now, and you know it. Now run along back to Ace and Dale, and let me run my school.”
John doesn’t back down, but Paladin takes a slow step back, and exits the ring, heading back to his office. John sighs and leans on the turnbuckle, the energy suddenly gone from his body.
He looks around the room, and points to one of his students. “Marty, are you warmed up?”
The nervous, blond, musclebound kid nods.
“Great,” John says, “Jump in the ring here. Christina, set up the camera.”
The video is a simple, wide shot of the ring from Khellegher’s school. Marty, now decked out in trunks, is standing in the middle, bouncing back and forth and shadow boxing. The same man we saw earlier steps up to the ring, but now John Khellegher is gone; Vengeance has come in his place. He brushes past Marty, and points directly at the camera.
“The following,” Vengeance yells, “is an AAW sanctioned wrestling match, and if Ace doesn’t like it, he can come down here and tell me. The winner will go on to the Fatal Attraction match. Ring the damned bell.”
The bell rings, Vengeance turns and takes a running leap. Break From Society! Another student hastily counts to three, and the match is over before it began.
The camera doesn’t catch Vengeance whispering a thank you to Marty.
The back office of The Khellegher School of wrestling is cramped, like the rest of the school, but it has a special charm, too. The walls are covered with replica championships from places like LFW, DWF, and more. Vengeance sits in an old leather chair that desperately needs to be reupholstered. He’s on the phone.
“Yes, well, you didn’t get the job done, did you? The deal was, I help you win, you find out – I know, Marcus, I know. But we know there’s something to find now, don’t we? Tell Iggy to focus on the girl. The girl! The one who showed up out of nowhere in the middle of my match! The ghost-y one! Come on, Marcus…ok, so does he have anything, then? Send it to me.”
An old dot matrix printer coughs its way to life. Vengeance stands and walks over to it, and waits as it slowly, slowly, spits out a picture. He picks it up and brings it over to the light. It’s a picture of a beautiful girl, the same ghostly girl we saw at The Winter of Our Discontent. And as the camera slowly zooms in on her face…
A bell-like sound rings out, echoes into the silence, and fades. The light quality on the picture starts to change, and the colors fade toward a dusky orange.
A second time, the bell rings out; the camera starts to slowly zoom out again, and an elaborate picture frame comes into view around the photograph.
As a third chime sounds, the scene settles on Sanguine, seated in front of a small wooden altar with burning incense, the centerpiece of which is the exact same photo of the girl that Vengeance just received. The lights are dim, a circle of candles on the floor and on the altar providing the only illumination, and the darkness hides the presence or absence of walls, so that Sanguine seems to be sitting in a bright point of solidity in the midst of an adyss. Sanguine claps twice, bows, claps again, bows, then comes up and stares with soft, moistened eyes at the face of the Grey Lady.
Sanguine VO: I could never forget you. How could I?
Sanguine closes his eyes and breaths deeply, appearing to seek calm.
Sanguine VO: You gave me back my life. I repaid you by taking yours.
A glowing shape begins to appear on Sanguine's forhead... a strange, squiggly line that settles and solidifies into a stylized Third Eye. It blazes brightly in a rainbow coruscation of color, then all light suddenly seems to spiral into it like a drain, and darkness reigns.
Sanguine VO: /with an edge of bitterness/ It's not the sort of thing a man forgets.
Brief, soundless images flash onto the screen, juxtaposed with the blackness: smoke, fire, a terrified woman clutching a child with blood all over her face, a sword rising and falling – black.
Sanguine VO: I only ever did what you taught me to do.
The sword rises and falls, now covered in blood; rises and falls; rises and is struck by lightning; a stump of a hand retracts down toward a man, now cowering, looking into the distance at a hooded figure stalking toward him out of the smoke – black.
Sanguine VO: Only ever what you taught me.
The hooded figure walks ominously out of the smoke, and little by little a horde of skeletons, demons, goblins and creatures with too many eyes and mouths begin to writhe and boil out behind him –
Sanguine opens his eyes in front of the altar with a gasp, clutching his chest, hunching over as if in pain.
Sanguine VO: That was my mistake.
Gradually Sanguine gets his breath back, eyes settling into steely focus on the picture of the Grey Lady on the altar. He stands, turns his back on her, and walks away, camera zooming out to follow. Although the pool of light slowly fades out, leaving the surroundings in total darkness, Sanguine somehow stays visible (AKA greenscreen) as he walks farther and farther away.
Sanguine VO: I did what I had to; a hundred lifetimes of regret won't change what it is you were going to do. It is passed. Although I begged your forgiveness and prayed your spirit to a quiet rest, it seems you've made other plans.
Sanguine stops in front of the silhouette of a door. He reaches into a pocket and produces a shining golden key.
Sanguine VO: If you are determined to use that man as the conduit of your displeasure, so be it. Bring everything. Make me feel your hatred in my bones. But let it end. I will fight you my whole life, and every life after, if it means the world might have peace for one more day.
Sanguine turns the key in the door, and blinding light spills out of it, framing him, and a wind billows his clothes and hair.
Sanguine VO: You gave me this life...but you cannot have it back. Until the day I fall and fade, like tears in rain, honor and resolve shall be my refrain. All that I am, to you, shall be bane – the heart-bound Real Magic of Sanguine Arcane.
Sanguine steps through the door, and all fades to white.
