There can be only one (SuMa Arcadia #2)

New hunting ground (offcam)

The doors to the lobby of the Eden hotel open and in walks the lithe frame of a brunette woman dressed in a sharp suit and carrying a briefcase with her. She scans her surroundings, smiles and walks up to the receptionist. She stands there for a moment, waiting for the attendant to notice her. “Evening Ma’am, welcome to the Eden hotel. How can I help?”

The woman smiles again, places the briefcase on the counter and fishes out a piece of paper. “I was told there is a penthouse room reserved here, under the name Rivers”

The clerk nods and starts typing away at the computer, looking the woman up and down from head to toe. “Yes, so it seems. Mrs. Jennifer Rivers I presume?”

The features on the woman harden for a moment. “Miss Rivers.” She speaks between gritted teeth. “But otherwise yes.”

The clerk did not fail to notice the reaction to the presumption of being married and filed it away as something to mention to his co-workers. He started typing again, trying to control his curiosity, ultimately failing at it. “Ms. Rivers, are you here to spectate? I try to be well informed regarding the WrestleWorld roster and I do not remember seeing your name there.”

Jennifer lets out a small chuckle. “Then you haven’t paid enough attention. No, I am here neither to spectate nor compete. I am here merely as a manager of someone who will compete. In Parabellum”

The word Parabellum causes the clerk to perk up and he turns to look at Jennifer with intrigue. “Oh? Shoulda figured, a few new faces there to the company. Who are you managing then Miss, if you don't mind me asking, Ace Sky? I didn’t see you coming in with anyone so I assume they are scouting the premises?”

The woman chuckles again. “No, not Ace Sky. And no, he is not scouting the premises. He’s over there.” she points over the clerks shoulder, causing the young man to blink in confusion. He slowly turns around and finds himself staring at a broad chest that is eyelevel with him. He swallows and lifts his gaze upwards until his eyes meet a pair of black, coal-like eyes staring downwards from behind a veil of greasy black hair barely contained in a hood of a worn jacket. He takes a step backwards, his back bumping into the counter, almost jumping out of his skin as Jennifer lays her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be afraid young man, he isn’t here to hurt YOU…” she lets out a small chuckle. “C’mon big guy, stop scaring the kid.”

The man, known as Supreme Machine lets out a small growl and walks around the counter to stand by Jennifers side. “Finish checking us in… we don’t have time to stand around…” he speaks in a low, gravely voice to the woman. Jennifer nods and turns to face the clerk with an impatient look on her face.

The clerk quickly finishes the check in process and hands over a set of keys to Jennifer, his eyes barely leaving the imposing figure of SuMa, looking like a deer in headlights as WrestleWorlds newest monster stares him down. Jennifer looks like she’s enjoying herself watching the clerk squirm, and after she gets the keys she drops a very generous tip on the mans hand. “Good work kid, go buy yourself a new pair of pants or something” she quips over her shoulder as she gently prods SuMa to head towards the elevators. As the elevator doors close behind them she lets out a sigh of relief. “Brother dearest, you know you coulda just done this yourself. You have any idea how exhausting it is to keep up the front of being Jennifer? All I wanted to do was bounce on that poor kid and give him some TLC.”

SuMa looks at Jennifer and chuckles. “You wanted to be our manager. Queenie is ill fit for that and you know it... “

The woman rolls her eyes. “I mean yeah, but Jennifer is SOOO BOOOORING. All prim and proper and stuff.”

With surprising speed, SuMa grabs the woman by the throat and lifts her up into the air, catching her completely by surprise. He leans in and growls right to her face. “This is our stomping grounds. You are here only as Jennifer… You play your part and go home. Do we make ourselves clear…”

The woman, despite being throttled manages to smile as she nods. SuMa slowly releases her and she falls to the ground, rubbing her throat and giving SuMa a pout. “I get it I get it. Did you really have to do that? Queenie stays in Indianapolis and Jennifer comes to the island. I hear you loud and clear”

She is about to continue as the door pings and opens. The pair make their way through the hallway and into the room they had booked, with Jennifer still pouting at SuMa, occasionally rubbing the red marks slowly forming on her neck. As the door of the penthouse shuts behind them, She lets out a sigh of relief and prances across the room, plopping herself down on the bed. “Finally some peace. You know I can’t stick around forever here, we gotta get back to Reno and then I need to head off to Indianapolis, but look at this room big guy, it’s great!”

SuMa glances at his sister, part of him highly amused of the change that she goes through the moment there is nobody else around. He walks over to the balcony and stares at the distance. “This island will be a prime hunting ground for us. And the Raven is here too... “

Jenny rolls her eyes. “Oh c’mon big guy, stop obsessing over puddin already. You can really stretch your legs here. Go wild. Have fun. Crush people. Do what you do best. I didn’t sign you up here just so you can go right back to fighting Knox.”

The big man grumbles under his breath before slumping down on a corner. “We’ll see…”



There can be only one (oncam)

We open to a view of the night sky at the island, the moonlight casting its pale shadow on a singular frame standing on a roof of the hotel. It is the recently-introduced Supreme Machine who stands atop the building, looking at the island that sprawls beneath his feet. He is pacing back and forth restlessly, and when he speaks, it comes out of  his lips like growl.

“Sometimes we feel like a caged animal... chomping at the bit waiting to be unleashed. We have spent the last 10 years being a force to be reckoned anywhere we went… always waiting for those moments where our hunger will be sated. It is doubly true for Parabellum. We have scouted the island… we have listened to our opponents words… The anticipation has been building within… waiting.”

SuMa sits down, his legs hanging over the edge as he stares into the distance, as if to memorize the layout of the island he can see.

“The first one to speak was Alex Slayer… a man with a name to live up to… Slayer… Heh. You make great boasts. Having the blood of the godfather of violence flowing in you… being the closest thing to a devil the sport has seen… You intrigue us. Yet, for some reason, we have a feeling we will be disappointed. You look at the names entered in the match and pick out those you think might be a challenge to you… on top of the two you have familiarity with… and you completely overlook us. That Slayer… will be your downfall. You are not the devil.. You are but a pretender looking to etch his name on the historybook, trying desperately to live up to a name and a legacy you have no chance of ever truly fulfilling. We do not make claims of being the devil… We are more and we are less. We are the destruction personified. You might think yourself as the embodiment of all that is evil in the world… but we are beyond such concepts. We are a force of nature… And you will see that not even the devil can stop the tide of blood that washes in our wake…”

The man slowly cocks his head from left to right, the sound of cracking vertebrae echoing in the silent night.

“Michael Bishop… You are both correct and so… so wrong.. We are not a fighter. We are not a warrior… We are a predator. We care not for fortune nor fame. Never have… never will. You think you know war Bishop? Our entire life has been one unending war no matter where we have gone… One bloodbath after another that has left their marks on our skin and our body. We have fought men and women all over this country for over a decade… and stood tall. You are so convinced at your own excellence that you fail to see beyond it. You shrug us off as just another monster… And that will be your downfall. You judge people by their appearance and by your own preconceptions… and ultimately it amuses us. You sneer at us telling our credentials while repeatedly affirming your own credibility with sobstories of how you have been through hell and back. Well then Bishop… you will enter hell yet again. You are but an insect in comparison to us. Physically. And mentally. You are a mewling quim, a whelp screaming for attention. You act exactly like every other tough guy we have seen, heard, fought and crushed. You don’t have a single original bone in your body Bishop, and if you cross our path at Parabellum… we will break every single one of those bones to show you just how wrong you were about us… just how badly your blindness to the truth will end up costing you. You are not the force you think you are Bishop…you are not impressive. You are not important. You are not even relevant…  you are just another victim.”

SuMa stands up and turns to face the camera, the pale moonlight reflecting off his dark, coal-like eyes as he stares into the camera.

“Ares Vendetta… a preacher. We watched and listened to your drivel. It was a relief it was such a short one… as we do not think we could have listened to it for too long. You kept going on about DNA… Yet you understand nothing about what makes a true force. Our path has been laden by blood...we are what we are today not because of our DNA… not because we are a self made man…  not because we desired to be a star… but because of the wars we fought. Because the pain and the suffering we both inflicted and had inflicted upon us. Ares… The god of war. You know nothing of what truly makes a star. Or a monster. You do not know the extent the human body and the human mind can be damaged before it breaks… Before a once-hopeful young man turns into a monster… You know nothing Ares Vendetta. And should you cross our path at Parabellum, we will teach you the very extent of what can be done to a human body before the mind shuts down and instincts kick in. The instinct to flee, to preserve self. You can preach all you want Ares, but ultimately, in the end, you will fall like the rest of them. You are not the God of War. You are but a jester in the shape of a man… and at Parabellum… your charade will end in blood.”

SuMa chuckles, a sound that seems completely at odds with both his appearance and his words. But the sounds is cut out almost as fast as it began and the monstrous man speaks again in that low growl of his.

“Bruce McLeod. The silver fox. The man that most overlook because of your age. Those men and women are fools. We see the truth. We see your age not as something to deride but something to respect… something to be wary of. Because this business… this sport… this… whatever you want to call it is one that breaks men mentally and physically. To be able to have made it to such an advanced age is a warning for those who seek to challenge you Silver. Like the bright colors of the poisonous frogs in the jungle… the silver in your hair warns your foes. “Do not approach. Do not take lightly.”. You have survived for this long for a reason Silver, and at Parabellum we will find you and discover just what it is that has allowed you to do so. We see beyond the obvious. We see beyond the surface. We see the warrior within. And you can be rest assured Silver… we will not take you lightly. We will not tread on you carelessly. For men and women have fallen before for doing that. For us Silver, you are prey. But not a defenseless one like so many others in this war. You are a challenge to overcome. A trophy to claim. Should we not be here, you would be the Apex Predator… because in this world of ours Silver… the weak don’t make it to old age… the weak perish. And you have proven you are not weak. You are a survivor. A winner. A conqueror. We will take delight in testing you Silver, in seeing just how far your talents can carry you… But in the end you will fall just like the rest of them…”

He turns to gaze up at the moon, the light seemingly dancing on the intricate web of scars that cover his entire torso.

“Ian Dickerson… The man who welcomed us to the HorrorShow. How fitting. You show a healthy sense of self-preservation by acknowledging the threat we present… Yet you seem to think you can dodge and dive, dance around us like a butterfly and sting like a bee? You tried to show yourself as a wise man Ian… yet you failed to appreciate the whole picture. You can sting us all you want. In this skin of ours, a few more scars do not make a difference. But if you think you can avoid us or keep striking at us faster than we can recover… faster than we can strike back… you are sorely mistaken. We have fought men and women who are faster than you. Bigger than you. Stronger than you… and smarter than you… and we have come out on top. See, the problem with trying to chop us down to size, to try and defeat us using the death by a thousand cuts technique… trying to dance around us until we tire… is the fact that we do not get tired. You cannot inflict enough punishment on us to wear us down. We mentioned earlier that we are a force of nature… and tell us Ian… can a man stop a tidal wave? Can a man stare down a tornado and make it relent? Can a man punch the earth and stop a quake? No. You are not equipped to deal with us Ian. You are but a sacrificial lamb, an example to be made. Your blood will mark our entry into WrestleWorld...and it will be the beginning of our rise.”

SuMa stretches his arms out into a crucifix-pose, tightening every muscle in his upper body until he looks like a coiled spring, waiting to be unleashed.

“The rest of those set to face their destiny at Parabellum are yet to speak. Time ticks down to Arcadia and the war that awaits within. 10 will enter the fray and seek their chance at glory. We care not for the prize dangled by a stick like a carrot… we care only for the opportunity it provides. We care only about the victims that are presented to us on a silver platter. We are Supreme Machine. We are the destruction personified. And at Arcadia the 9 others who enter Parabellum will find out the truth of this world of ours… When the dust settles, when the fighting ends…”

With shocking speed, SuMa takes three steps forward to end up within inches of the camera, his eyes staring a hole through the lens as he whispers in a low voice.

“There can be only one”

The view fades to black.