01-31-2025, 12:07 AM
The room is silent, thick with the heavy scent of dust and decay. The walls seem to close in around me as I sit in the darkness, not yet a man but something much more. The stillness of the air is broken only by the occasional creak of the old manor, the faintest whisper of wind stirring the broken windows. But even that is an intrusion, a reminder of the world beyond.
I’ve been gone for months—months of silence, of isolation. Time has become irrelevant here, in this forgotten place where the shadows are thick and the past has a way of eroding into nothing. And yet, I haven’t been idle. No, there’s something stirring within me, something I cannot ignore any longer.
The stillness clings to me like a second skin, familiar and unnerving. I welcome it. I have learned to.
I close my eyes, and the visions come.
They always come now, the fragments of truth that swirl in my mind, more vivid than any dream, more real than anything I’ve ever known. The same recurring image—the temple, vast and ancient, hidden in the folds of time and space. The chants of those figures cloaked in darkness, their voices rising in a crescendo that shakes the very air around me. The darkness that lingers just beyond the edge of perception, beckoning me, pulling me toward it. I feel it, just as I have felt it for months—its presence, its power, its hunger. It wants me. It needs me.
But I am not ready to accept it—not yet.
I run my fingers through my hair, staring into the void. My reflection in the cracked mirror stares back at me, but I barely recognize the face I see. It is mine, and yet it is not. Those eyes—they are not the eyes of Elias Veil. No, these eyes are different. They are empty, dark, a reflection of the abyss that calls to me. They are the eyes of someone… something… far older than I am. And they are awakening.
The voices come louder now, insistent, undeniable.
“You are more than this. You are the darkness. The veil between worlds is thinning. Come to us, embrace what is yours.”
I clench my fists, the dark power in my veins surging. There’s a chill in the air now, colder than it was moments ago, and the shadows on the walls seem to stretch toward me, hungry for my command.
I stand slowly, my legs heavy with the weight of something I can’t yet comprehend. I am not afraid. I should be afraid, but I am not. There is no fear in me, only a quiet certainty. A certainty that what has begun can never be stopped. I have seen the truth. I have felt the power.
I am the darkness.
The walls of the manor seem to pulse in time with the thudding of my heart, as though they too are alive, waiting. I step forward, the wooden floor creaking beneath my boots, and as I move, I feel it. The air grows thicker, the shadows deeper. I can feel the essence of the Abyss beginning to seep into the very fabric of this place, transforming it, changing it.
The darkness inside me stirs, coiling like a serpent, waiting to strike.
And then, I hear the voice.
It is not a voice in the traditional sense. It doesn’t come from the air. It doesn’t come from anywhere at all. It is a presence. A weight that presses down on my mind, filling it with a knowledge I didn’t seek, but one I now cannot unlearn.
“Rise,” it commands, a simple word, but one heavy with purpose.
I close my eyes again, letting the voice fill me, flood me. I feel it, the power, surging through me, pulling me, shaping me. I am not just a man anymore. I am a vessel, an instrument of something far beyond the mortal world.
The room darkens further, the shadows now more tangible, thicker, stretching like living tendrils reaching toward me. They obey. I know now that they always have. And they will continue to.
I raise my hands, not knowing why, but feeling that I must. And when I do, the shadows coil around my fingers, pulsing, alive. The whispers grow louder, the voices more distinct, urging me to continue.
I smile—a cold, twisted grin that reflects the madness of the moment.
There is no going back now. This is the moment of my awakening.
The darkness calls to me, and I answer. I reach deeper, into the void, feeling its vast, endless pull. It welcomes me. I welcome it. And as I do, I understand.
The temple. The chants. The Abyss.
It is all becoming clear.
I have been chosen. This power is mine. And there are others who will follow me. I can feel their presence, faint and distant, but I know they are there. They are waiting, drawn to the same call, the same darkness that has begun to take root within me.
I do not know their names. I do not need to. They are mine, and they will come.
With the darkness now fully awakened inside me, I can feel it—the pull of something larger than I am, something more. The echoes of the cult, their whispers in the void, their call to join me in the shadows. They do not yet understand what I have become, but they will. They will see the truth soon enough.
And when they do, they will fall before me. Because this is just the beginning.
I open my eyes, and for the first time in months, I do not feel alone.
The manor stands in silence, the kind of silence that speaks louder than any noise ever could. The air is still, heavy with the weight of something unseen—something that clings to the walls, like an ancient presence watching, waiting. It smells of dust and decay, the scent of a place long forgotten by time. But it’s not just the manor that feels abandoned; it’s me, too. I’ve been adrift in my own mind for so long, wandering between the shadows of the man I was and the power I’m becoming. Elias Veil—he’s a distant memory now, a fading image on the periphery of my mind. And that’s how it should be. He was weak. Fragile.
What I am now… is something else entirely.
The candlelight flickers weakly in the corner of the room, its flame wavering like the last breath of a dying thing. But I don’t mind the darkness. I embrace it. It wraps around me, a cloak of comfort and power. The shadows… they understand me. They’re familiar. They’re my allies. The room grows colder, the chill creeping under my skin, but it only feeds the fire growing within me.
I stand alone, still. But inside, I am anything but still. It’s like there’s a storm rising, a force of nature swelling inside me, making my chest tighten and my skin tingle with an electric charge that never stops. There’s a hunger within me now, deeper than any hunger I’ve known before. It’s the hunger of the abyss. The darkness that I have finally allowed to consume me is restless. It is calling out to me, demanding that I accept it fully. The pull of it is undeniable. Every moment I resist, it becomes stronger, louder, more insistent. It’s as if the very walls of this forsaken place are breathing, encouraging me, urging me to take the next step.
I can hear it in my mind, a whisper, gentle at first, then growing louder with each passing moment.
Come. Embrace what you are.
The air is thick with it now. The shadows that creep along the walls, curling and shifting like living creatures, grow more defined, more aggressive. They respond to me. I can feel them stretch out toward me, like arms reaching in the dark, yearning to touch, to claim, to merge with me. My hand twitches at my side. I fight the instinct to recoil, to pull away, but the moment passes, and instead, I step forward. One slow, deliberate step into the dark.
The flickering candlelight dies, its glow snuffed out in an instant by a gust of wind from nowhere. The room is swallowed by darkness, but I don’t feel fear. No, there is no fear left within me. Only a deep, insatiable desire to push further into the abyss that calls me. The darkness is my birthright. It is my purpose. And I am not merely part of it—I am the herald of it.
The embodiment.
My breath quickens, but it’s not from fear or panic. It’s something else. It’s power. It’s the energy that floods my veins like fire, lighting me from within. The shadows around me move in rhythm with my heartbeat, as if they too are alive, pulsing, breathing with me. And then, I realize something that I hadn’t fully understood before.
I am not in control of this power.
I am this power.
The realization hits me like a wave crashing against the shore. I can feel it now, deep in my soul, the undeniable truth that what I’ve become is not just a reflection of darkness. I am the darkness. It’s woven into every fiber of my being. And now… now it’s time to awaken.
There’s no turning back. Not that I want to.
The shadows seem to notice this shift in me, bending and warping in the corners of the room, as if they’re sensing the change. My skin prickles with the anticipation of what’s to come, the familiar whisper of the shadows pressing against my thoughts, urging me forward, pulling me deeper into the place between life and death. Between the waking world and the dreams that haunt it.
The cult will follow. They will come.
The thought drifts through my mind like a promise, a truth too clear to ignore. The cult—the ones who have been waiting for me to rise—will be drawn to this moment. They can feel it, just as I do. They know the time has come. I have always known they were out there, scattered across the world like lost pieces of a puzzle. They are drawn to me, just as I am drawn to them.
Together, we will reshape everything. But not yet.
I cannot allow myself to think of them just yet.
There’s still work to do. Still more darkness to consume.
I push the thought away. For now, I focus. I reach inward, deep into the recesses of my mind, where the remnants of Elias Veil still linger. I silence them. I drown them out. The light that he once held in his heart, the human emotions that once defined him, they have no place here now.
The shadows respond, swelling around me, pulsating with the same rhythm as my thoughts. The cold around me intensifies, but it’s no longer just a chill—it’s a weight. A suffocating presence pressing down on me.
The moment is drawing near.
You’re ready now.
The whisper is clear, direct. And it’s then that I feel it. The pull. A connection, as if the very earth beneath me is responding to my call. I open my eyes—no longer Elias, but something much darker. Something greater.
My hands twitch, and the shadows move, coiling at my fingertips like obedient servants. They twist and turn, following my every motion, and for the first time, I understand them completely. There is no mystery left. No confusion. This is my domain now.
I smile, a cold, twisted thing, and I step further into the darkness. I am not alone. I never have been.
I’ve been gone for so long, lost in the depths of what I’ve become. The world around me faded to nothingness as I found my true form, my true purpose. But now, it’s time. The shadows that have clung to me will no longer remain in the dark corners of my mind. It’s time for them to step into the light, to be seen.
SCW was once a place where I allowed my darker impulses to simmer, to twist beneath the surface like a serpent waiting for its moment to strike. But now? Now it will be the stage for my rebirth. The realm where I will rise again—not just as Enigma, but as something far greater. My name will echo through their halls, not as a mere competitor, but as a force that cannot be stopped, a darkness that cannot be contained.
I stand at the threshold, looking out over the arena, the lights glaring down on the ring like the eyes of the very heavens themselves. It is a mockery, this place. A pitiful stage for the violence they call entertainment. But for me, it is a stepping stone. A place where my influence will spread, where I will leave my mark and bring others into the fold.
They don’t know me yet. Not really. They don’t know what I’ve become.
There are whispers in the back, rumors that I’ve returned. That Enigma is back. Some fear me. Some think they can control me. But they’ve all forgotten what they truly fear.
I am not just a man. I am not a simple competitor to be defeated. I am the darkness that waits patiently for its moment to consume. And when that moment arrives, no one will be safe.
I slip into the shadows of the backstage area, where the echoes of their petty squabbles fill the air. The restless, childish chatter of men and women who think this is their world. They don’t understand. They never will.
But soon, they will understand.
I hear the voices of my cult in my head again, their whispers louder now, feeding on my thoughts, calling me to action. They, too, are waiting. Watching. They know the time has come for the next phase of our plan. They know that my return to SCW isn’t about titles or victories. It’s about power. It’s about shaping this world into something new. Something dark.
I walk past the lockers, my boots steady, my presence undeniable. The few who dare cross my path avert their eyes, unwilling to meet my gaze. They feel it too. The change. The shift in the air. And they know that there is no escaping what’s coming.
As I approach the ring, the audience roars in anticipation. They have no idea what awaits them. They cheer for the violence, for the spectacle. They have no idea that I am here not for their entertainment, but for their destruction.
I climb into the ring, my eyes fixed on the empty space, the cold steel of the ropes biting into my skin. The shadows coil around me, stretching from the corners, reaching for the very rafters above. They are waiting too. Patient. Ready.
I take a moment to breathe in the air, feeling the vibrations of the crowd beneath my feet. I can hear their voices, their cheers, but they are nothing to me. The ring is no longer a battlefield. It is my altar.
I raise my head, my eyes glowing in the dim light. I speak, my voice smooth, low, but carrying with an intensity that shatters the silence.
“The time has come,” I say, my words laced with venom. “SCW… you have not learned. You have not learned what happens when you wake the abyss.”
I pause, letting my words settle, watching as the crowd falls into a stunned silence, unsure of what to make of me.
“They think they can cage me. They think they can control me. They think I’m just another broken man looking for a fight. But I am more than that. I am the abyss. And I have returned to claim what is mine.”
I laugh softly, the sound sharp and haunting, filling the arena with an uncomfortable chill.
“You will all feel the weight of my presence. You will understand the price of this darkness. And you will never forget the name of Enigma.”
The lights flicker, the air thick with tension as the shadows around me grow. The crowd’s reactions range from confusion to fear. They don’t know it yet, but they’ve just witnessed the first step in my rise. The first spark of the fire that will soon consume everything.
I leave the ring without a glance back, knowing that my influence has begun, the crowd slowly disappears. Soon after, the ring disappears, as does the rest of the arena. The only thing surrounding me now are the few followers that I have. Their whispers will grow louder now. The whispers of the crowd in Dusseldorf will spread like wildfire, and soon, SCW will be mine to mold, to shape, to twist into something far darker than anyone could imagine.
And they will follow. My cult, my faithful followers, will come. They will see the truth. They will know what I am. And together, we will usher in the darkness.
The hunt has begun.
“Kristen Scott, months ago you went out seeking me. Seeking to make yourself known by everyone. What you didn’t want to happen though, was to actually find me. You were never going to find me, Kristen, the darkness that you would had to have entered into to in find me, you never would have survived,”
The air in the room thickens with every word, the shadows shifting in eerie synchrony with my thoughts. My voice drops to a whisper, yet it echoes in the stillness, wrapping itself around the walls, making it impossible for the words to escape.
“I could feel you, you know. I could feel your pathetic search, your attempts to drag yourself into something you could never comprehend. You thought you were clever, didn’t you? Little did you know, you were nothing but a moth to a flame. And that flame, Kristen, will burn you alive.”
I let out a soft, almost imperceptible chuckle, the sound low and unsettling. The shadows in the room seem to draw closer, drawn by the dark energy surging within me, pulling tighter around my form, creating an aura of suffocating dread.
“You see, the darkness I have embraced is not a thing to be sought out by the likes of you. It’s not some game to play, or some treasure to be discovered. It’s an abyss, a force that consumes those too weak to bear its weight. And you, Kristen, are far too weak.”
I pause, letting the silence stretch between my words, the weight of my presence growing heavier with every second.
“But you were determined. I’ll give you that. Determined to find me, to claim a piece of my power for yourself. But what you didn’t realize is that the moment you crossed into my realm, the moment you set foot in this darkness, you signed your fate. You didn’t seek to find me, Kristen. You sought to destroy yourself.”
The temperature in the room drops as if the very air is growing cold, and the shadows twist violently, as if in agreement with my words. A chill runs down my spine, and I relish it—this is only the beginning.
“I am the abyss, Kristen. And if you think you can crawl your way out of it once you’ve stepped inside, you are gravely mistaken. You’ve made your choice, and now, you will face the consequences. You’ll regret the moment you ever tried to call my name. You’ll wish you had stayed hidden in the light, because there is no way back from the darkness you’ve invited into your soul.”
I smile to myself, the corners of my mouth curling into something wicked, something that feels unnatural, almost predatory.
“You sought me. You will find me. But by the time you do, it will be too late. The darkness will consume you. You will see nothing but the shadows closing in. And when that time comes…”
My voice grows darker, more guttural, as if the words themselves are made of shadow.
“…you will know that you were never meant to be part of my world. You were only meant to be consumed by it.”
A wave of power surges through the room, and the shadows deepen, a near tangible force gathering in the corners of the space. My hand reaches out, as though calling to the darkness itself, and the room seems to respond, closing in around me.
“Mark this, Kristen Scott,” I hiss, my voice dripping with malice. “You will find me. And when you do, you’ll wish you had never begun this journey. The darkness you seek will be the end of you. The question is… how much will you lose before it finally swallows you whole?”
The room falls into a suffocating silence, the air thick with the weight of my words. The darkness seems to press in, a tangible force that leaves nothing but a sense of dread and inevitability. Kirsten Scott thinks she can defy me, thinks she can survive the very thing she sought out, but she has no idea what she’s dealing with.
And when she faces me… she will understand. Too late.
I’ve been gone for months—months of silence, of isolation. Time has become irrelevant here, in this forgotten place where the shadows are thick and the past has a way of eroding into nothing. And yet, I haven’t been idle. No, there’s something stirring within me, something I cannot ignore any longer.
The stillness clings to me like a second skin, familiar and unnerving. I welcome it. I have learned to.
I close my eyes, and the visions come.
They always come now, the fragments of truth that swirl in my mind, more vivid than any dream, more real than anything I’ve ever known. The same recurring image—the temple, vast and ancient, hidden in the folds of time and space. The chants of those figures cloaked in darkness, their voices rising in a crescendo that shakes the very air around me. The darkness that lingers just beyond the edge of perception, beckoning me, pulling me toward it. I feel it, just as I have felt it for months—its presence, its power, its hunger. It wants me. It needs me.
But I am not ready to accept it—not yet.
I run my fingers through my hair, staring into the void. My reflection in the cracked mirror stares back at me, but I barely recognize the face I see. It is mine, and yet it is not. Those eyes—they are not the eyes of Elias Veil. No, these eyes are different. They are empty, dark, a reflection of the abyss that calls to me. They are the eyes of someone… something… far older than I am. And they are awakening.
The voices come louder now, insistent, undeniable.
“You are more than this. You are the darkness. The veil between worlds is thinning. Come to us, embrace what is yours.”
I clench my fists, the dark power in my veins surging. There’s a chill in the air now, colder than it was moments ago, and the shadows on the walls seem to stretch toward me, hungry for my command.
I stand slowly, my legs heavy with the weight of something I can’t yet comprehend. I am not afraid. I should be afraid, but I am not. There is no fear in me, only a quiet certainty. A certainty that what has begun can never be stopped. I have seen the truth. I have felt the power.
I am the darkness.
The walls of the manor seem to pulse in time with the thudding of my heart, as though they too are alive, waiting. I step forward, the wooden floor creaking beneath my boots, and as I move, I feel it. The air grows thicker, the shadows deeper. I can feel the essence of the Abyss beginning to seep into the very fabric of this place, transforming it, changing it.
The darkness inside me stirs, coiling like a serpent, waiting to strike.
And then, I hear the voice.
It is not a voice in the traditional sense. It doesn’t come from the air. It doesn’t come from anywhere at all. It is a presence. A weight that presses down on my mind, filling it with a knowledge I didn’t seek, but one I now cannot unlearn.
“Rise,” it commands, a simple word, but one heavy with purpose.
I close my eyes again, letting the voice fill me, flood me. I feel it, the power, surging through me, pulling me, shaping me. I am not just a man anymore. I am a vessel, an instrument of something far beyond the mortal world.
The room darkens further, the shadows now more tangible, thicker, stretching like living tendrils reaching toward me. They obey. I know now that they always have. And they will continue to.
I raise my hands, not knowing why, but feeling that I must. And when I do, the shadows coil around my fingers, pulsing, alive. The whispers grow louder, the voices more distinct, urging me to continue.
I smile—a cold, twisted grin that reflects the madness of the moment.
There is no going back now. This is the moment of my awakening.
The darkness calls to me, and I answer. I reach deeper, into the void, feeling its vast, endless pull. It welcomes me. I welcome it. And as I do, I understand.
The temple. The chants. The Abyss.
It is all becoming clear.
I have been chosen. This power is mine. And there are others who will follow me. I can feel their presence, faint and distant, but I know they are there. They are waiting, drawn to the same call, the same darkness that has begun to take root within me.
I do not know their names. I do not need to. They are mine, and they will come.
With the darkness now fully awakened inside me, I can feel it—the pull of something larger than I am, something more. The echoes of the cult, their whispers in the void, their call to join me in the shadows. They do not yet understand what I have become, but they will. They will see the truth soon enough.
And when they do, they will fall before me. Because this is just the beginning.
I open my eyes, and for the first time in months, I do not feel alone.
The manor stands in silence, the kind of silence that speaks louder than any noise ever could. The air is still, heavy with the weight of something unseen—something that clings to the walls, like an ancient presence watching, waiting. It smells of dust and decay, the scent of a place long forgotten by time. But it’s not just the manor that feels abandoned; it’s me, too. I’ve been adrift in my own mind for so long, wandering between the shadows of the man I was and the power I’m becoming. Elias Veil—he’s a distant memory now, a fading image on the periphery of my mind. And that’s how it should be. He was weak. Fragile.
What I am now… is something else entirely.
The candlelight flickers weakly in the corner of the room, its flame wavering like the last breath of a dying thing. But I don’t mind the darkness. I embrace it. It wraps around me, a cloak of comfort and power. The shadows… they understand me. They’re familiar. They’re my allies. The room grows colder, the chill creeping under my skin, but it only feeds the fire growing within me.
I stand alone, still. But inside, I am anything but still. It’s like there’s a storm rising, a force of nature swelling inside me, making my chest tighten and my skin tingle with an electric charge that never stops. There’s a hunger within me now, deeper than any hunger I’ve known before. It’s the hunger of the abyss. The darkness that I have finally allowed to consume me is restless. It is calling out to me, demanding that I accept it fully. The pull of it is undeniable. Every moment I resist, it becomes stronger, louder, more insistent. It’s as if the very walls of this forsaken place are breathing, encouraging me, urging me to take the next step.
I can hear it in my mind, a whisper, gentle at first, then growing louder with each passing moment.
Come. Embrace what you are.
The air is thick with it now. The shadows that creep along the walls, curling and shifting like living creatures, grow more defined, more aggressive. They respond to me. I can feel them stretch out toward me, like arms reaching in the dark, yearning to touch, to claim, to merge with me. My hand twitches at my side. I fight the instinct to recoil, to pull away, but the moment passes, and instead, I step forward. One slow, deliberate step into the dark.
The flickering candlelight dies, its glow snuffed out in an instant by a gust of wind from nowhere. The room is swallowed by darkness, but I don’t feel fear. No, there is no fear left within me. Only a deep, insatiable desire to push further into the abyss that calls me. The darkness is my birthright. It is my purpose. And I am not merely part of it—I am the herald of it.
The embodiment.
My breath quickens, but it’s not from fear or panic. It’s something else. It’s power. It’s the energy that floods my veins like fire, lighting me from within. The shadows around me move in rhythm with my heartbeat, as if they too are alive, pulsing, breathing with me. And then, I realize something that I hadn’t fully understood before.
I am not in control of this power.
I am this power.
The realization hits me like a wave crashing against the shore. I can feel it now, deep in my soul, the undeniable truth that what I’ve become is not just a reflection of darkness. I am the darkness. It’s woven into every fiber of my being. And now… now it’s time to awaken.
There’s no turning back. Not that I want to.
The shadows seem to notice this shift in me, bending and warping in the corners of the room, as if they’re sensing the change. My skin prickles with the anticipation of what’s to come, the familiar whisper of the shadows pressing against my thoughts, urging me forward, pulling me deeper into the place between life and death. Between the waking world and the dreams that haunt it.
The cult will follow. They will come.
The thought drifts through my mind like a promise, a truth too clear to ignore. The cult—the ones who have been waiting for me to rise—will be drawn to this moment. They can feel it, just as I do. They know the time has come. I have always known they were out there, scattered across the world like lost pieces of a puzzle. They are drawn to me, just as I am drawn to them.
Together, we will reshape everything. But not yet.
I cannot allow myself to think of them just yet.
There’s still work to do. Still more darkness to consume.
I push the thought away. For now, I focus. I reach inward, deep into the recesses of my mind, where the remnants of Elias Veil still linger. I silence them. I drown them out. The light that he once held in his heart, the human emotions that once defined him, they have no place here now.
The shadows respond, swelling around me, pulsating with the same rhythm as my thoughts. The cold around me intensifies, but it’s no longer just a chill—it’s a weight. A suffocating presence pressing down on me.
The moment is drawing near.
You’re ready now.
The whisper is clear, direct. And it’s then that I feel it. The pull. A connection, as if the very earth beneath me is responding to my call. I open my eyes—no longer Elias, but something much darker. Something greater.
My hands twitch, and the shadows move, coiling at my fingertips like obedient servants. They twist and turn, following my every motion, and for the first time, I understand them completely. There is no mystery left. No confusion. This is my domain now.
I smile, a cold, twisted thing, and I step further into the darkness. I am not alone. I never have been.
I’ve been gone for so long, lost in the depths of what I’ve become. The world around me faded to nothingness as I found my true form, my true purpose. But now, it’s time. The shadows that have clung to me will no longer remain in the dark corners of my mind. It’s time for them to step into the light, to be seen.
SCW was once a place where I allowed my darker impulses to simmer, to twist beneath the surface like a serpent waiting for its moment to strike. But now? Now it will be the stage for my rebirth. The realm where I will rise again—not just as Enigma, but as something far greater. My name will echo through their halls, not as a mere competitor, but as a force that cannot be stopped, a darkness that cannot be contained.
I stand at the threshold, looking out over the arena, the lights glaring down on the ring like the eyes of the very heavens themselves. It is a mockery, this place. A pitiful stage for the violence they call entertainment. But for me, it is a stepping stone. A place where my influence will spread, where I will leave my mark and bring others into the fold.
They don’t know me yet. Not really. They don’t know what I’ve become.
There are whispers in the back, rumors that I’ve returned. That Enigma is back. Some fear me. Some think they can control me. But they’ve all forgotten what they truly fear.
I am not just a man. I am not a simple competitor to be defeated. I am the darkness that waits patiently for its moment to consume. And when that moment arrives, no one will be safe.
I slip into the shadows of the backstage area, where the echoes of their petty squabbles fill the air. The restless, childish chatter of men and women who think this is their world. They don’t understand. They never will.
But soon, they will understand.
I hear the voices of my cult in my head again, their whispers louder now, feeding on my thoughts, calling me to action. They, too, are waiting. Watching. They know the time has come for the next phase of our plan. They know that my return to SCW isn’t about titles or victories. It’s about power. It’s about shaping this world into something new. Something dark.
I walk past the lockers, my boots steady, my presence undeniable. The few who dare cross my path avert their eyes, unwilling to meet my gaze. They feel it too. The change. The shift in the air. And they know that there is no escaping what’s coming.
As I approach the ring, the audience roars in anticipation. They have no idea what awaits them. They cheer for the violence, for the spectacle. They have no idea that I am here not for their entertainment, but for their destruction.
I climb into the ring, my eyes fixed on the empty space, the cold steel of the ropes biting into my skin. The shadows coil around me, stretching from the corners, reaching for the very rafters above. They are waiting too. Patient. Ready.
I take a moment to breathe in the air, feeling the vibrations of the crowd beneath my feet. I can hear their voices, their cheers, but they are nothing to me. The ring is no longer a battlefield. It is my altar.
I raise my head, my eyes glowing in the dim light. I speak, my voice smooth, low, but carrying with an intensity that shatters the silence.
“The time has come,” I say, my words laced with venom. “SCW… you have not learned. You have not learned what happens when you wake the abyss.”
I pause, letting my words settle, watching as the crowd falls into a stunned silence, unsure of what to make of me.
“They think they can cage me. They think they can control me. They think I’m just another broken man looking for a fight. But I am more than that. I am the abyss. And I have returned to claim what is mine.”
I laugh softly, the sound sharp and haunting, filling the arena with an uncomfortable chill.
“You will all feel the weight of my presence. You will understand the price of this darkness. And you will never forget the name of Enigma.”
The lights flicker, the air thick with tension as the shadows around me grow. The crowd’s reactions range from confusion to fear. They don’t know it yet, but they’ve just witnessed the first step in my rise. The first spark of the fire that will soon consume everything.
I leave the ring without a glance back, knowing that my influence has begun, the crowd slowly disappears. Soon after, the ring disappears, as does the rest of the arena. The only thing surrounding me now are the few followers that I have. Their whispers will grow louder now. The whispers of the crowd in Dusseldorf will spread like wildfire, and soon, SCW will be mine to mold, to shape, to twist into something far darker than anyone could imagine.
And they will follow. My cult, my faithful followers, will come. They will see the truth. They will know what I am. And together, we will usher in the darkness.
The hunt has begun.
“Kristen Scott, months ago you went out seeking me. Seeking to make yourself known by everyone. What you didn’t want to happen though, was to actually find me. You were never going to find me, Kristen, the darkness that you would had to have entered into to in find me, you never would have survived,”
The air in the room thickens with every word, the shadows shifting in eerie synchrony with my thoughts. My voice drops to a whisper, yet it echoes in the stillness, wrapping itself around the walls, making it impossible for the words to escape.
“I could feel you, you know. I could feel your pathetic search, your attempts to drag yourself into something you could never comprehend. You thought you were clever, didn’t you? Little did you know, you were nothing but a moth to a flame. And that flame, Kristen, will burn you alive.”
I let out a soft, almost imperceptible chuckle, the sound low and unsettling. The shadows in the room seem to draw closer, drawn by the dark energy surging within me, pulling tighter around my form, creating an aura of suffocating dread.
“You see, the darkness I have embraced is not a thing to be sought out by the likes of you. It’s not some game to play, or some treasure to be discovered. It’s an abyss, a force that consumes those too weak to bear its weight. And you, Kristen, are far too weak.”
I pause, letting the silence stretch between my words, the weight of my presence growing heavier with every second.
“But you were determined. I’ll give you that. Determined to find me, to claim a piece of my power for yourself. But what you didn’t realize is that the moment you crossed into my realm, the moment you set foot in this darkness, you signed your fate. You didn’t seek to find me, Kristen. You sought to destroy yourself.”
The temperature in the room drops as if the very air is growing cold, and the shadows twist violently, as if in agreement with my words. A chill runs down my spine, and I relish it—this is only the beginning.
“I am the abyss, Kristen. And if you think you can crawl your way out of it once you’ve stepped inside, you are gravely mistaken. You’ve made your choice, and now, you will face the consequences. You’ll regret the moment you ever tried to call my name. You’ll wish you had stayed hidden in the light, because there is no way back from the darkness you’ve invited into your soul.”
I smile to myself, the corners of my mouth curling into something wicked, something that feels unnatural, almost predatory.
“You sought me. You will find me. But by the time you do, it will be too late. The darkness will consume you. You will see nothing but the shadows closing in. And when that time comes…”
My voice grows darker, more guttural, as if the words themselves are made of shadow.
“…you will know that you were never meant to be part of my world. You were only meant to be consumed by it.”
A wave of power surges through the room, and the shadows deepen, a near tangible force gathering in the corners of the space. My hand reaches out, as though calling to the darkness itself, and the room seems to respond, closing in around me.
“Mark this, Kristen Scott,” I hiss, my voice dripping with malice. “You will find me. And when you do, you’ll wish you had never begun this journey. The darkness you seek will be the end of you. The question is… how much will you lose before it finally swallows you whole?”
The room falls into a suffocating silence, the air thick with the weight of my words. The darkness seems to press in, a tangible force that leaves nothing but a sense of dread and inevitability. Kirsten Scott thinks she can defy me, thinks she can survive the very thing she sought out, but she has no idea what she’s dealing with.
And when she faces me… she will understand. Too late.
SCW Record
8-2
Current SCW Television Champion
8-2
Current SCW Television Champion