FADE IN....

         A black and white view of a couch. Newspapers and fast food wrappers were thrown across various points of the fabric. In the background, a cd could be heard playing loudly through the room. The chorus of "All I know is that I don't know . . . All I know is that I don't know nothing. All I know is that I don't know . . . All I know is that I don't know NOTHING!" was clearly heard, as a person, shown waist down, walked behind the couch. It was hard to make out who the person was, simply from a very minimum being shown of him.

         You could hear a loud click, and slowly the volume of the cd and music began to lower until it was no louder than a typical conversation level. The person again walked back into the black and white view, this time in front of the couch. A medium length chain wallet was seen, along with calf length cut off blue jeans. He walked in front of the hand held camera that was recording this black and white view, and altered the view. It raised a little, showing a clear shot of a t-shirt that said "Operation Ivy", along with stud bracelts adorning the wrists of this person. Putting two and two together, without even seeing the face, it was becoming clear that Zero was at the helms of this camera.

         He slowly turned from the camera, and walked back towards the couch. He reached out of view, coming back with a smoking cigarette. You could hear a deep inhale, almost a sigh as he exhaled the smoke, and then sat down onto the couch. The fresh buzzes black hair, the facial piercings...no one else in HEW was like him. It was Zero alright.

         He lowered his wandering gaze into the full direct view of the camera. Inhaling once again, he blew the smoke out quickly, and put one elbow on a knee, and lowered his chin into that hand. The other hand dangled lifelessly off to the side, cigarette still emitting smoke that rose into the air. With a quick breath, Zero opened his mouth to speak.

Zero

         " Mr. Commissioner, if I may. This tape is being recorded, signed, sealed, and delivered straight to you. It is for your . . . enjoyment . . . that I now waste more time on you. I hope you . . . enjoy . . . Havoc. "

         Zero removed his head from his hand, becoming more focused as he spoke into the red light of the camera. He put his hands together, smoke flying up in front of his face, and lowered his eyes more towards the camera. He was suddenly back in the focused area that people (even Havoc) had became accustomed to, even feared. This was when he was at most dangerous. Not when he was fighting . . . but when he was thinking .. plotting .. observing.

Zero

         " You say that I fell into your trap? Yes, I heard your latest "offering." Most appealing in your generic settings. But no. I did not fall into your trap. I did not fall blindly into your game of sharades. I know what is coming before it ever even happens. To put it the way it is, I called your bluff. You didn't . . . hoped, that I wouldn't come. You could see it in your eyes the very moment that I walked through that curtain last week, that I had foiled your error proof plan. I came to the table, matching and succeeding your hand with a royal flush. Hard numbers to beat, and it worked.

         " I'm back. You wanted me, now you got me. So what were you going to do about me? What was it that you said? Finish me? Put an end to all of the sleepless nights that you've been having? Waking up . . . with Karen beside you (Zero lowered his gaze just for a moment, before raising it back up, continuing his train of thought) . . . having nightmares of all the times that you couldn't finish me off? Well, then I have a disappointment for you."

         Raising the quickly burning down cigarette to his mouth, Zero took the last drag possible from it before it burned into the filter. Putting it somewhere out of view, he turned back towards the camera, and began, again, with his train of thought.

Zero

         " You wanted me to come back to finish me, but there's one glitch. You see . . . while you've been off having your wrestling matches for the past three months, I've been focused in fighting. Fighting . . . bare knuckle . . . hoods of cars. Do you think that the sight of you, AFTER the sight of THAT, intimidates me? Strikes fear in me? No, I cannot fathom why it should.

         " This isn't just another Pillman shoot. This is something that has became an annoyance, and what is you and I needs to end. Now. You've had four days with me now around, and I do not see you acting in any way towards doing something that you set out to do over three weeks ago. So as far as you and I and this is concerned . . . goodbye. I am going back to Berkeley, no longer to have to put up with your nonsense, Havoc . . . Havoc . . . "

         But he couldn't end what he was saying there. The tone of his voice said differently. His face matched his tone, as he looked down to the floor again, a sign that he has just slightly more to say than he first let on.

         Raising his head slowly, with actually a half of a smirk wrapped across his face, he began to speak again.

Zero

         " Havoc . . . Havoc . . . one more thing. Something that I did always want to say, but never got around to doing, being that there were "other" things involved between you and I. But since this is goodbyes, why not leave with a clear chest. With this small camera sitting in front of me being my last windown into the world of "professional wrestling," now would be as good of a time to say it as any.

         " Havoc . . . what exactly is your name supposed to mean? It is obviously not your real name. Is it your "persona"? A name to hide behind when faced with the real you? The real you that I have come to known when the cameras are off. Perhaps it is wise for you to choose a gimmick to hide behind. The real you pales in comparison.

         " But why did you choose such a generic title? Why not "Rage" or "Chaos"? Or what about "Destruction"? They all equally, and generically, mean the same thing as the word "Havoc."

         " That was one of your more . . . comedic . . . qualities.

         " Rest with those words. Try comfort in Karen the next time the nightmares of me haunt you again. The nightmares of that one thing that you could never do away with, and wound up costing you your sanity. Rest in those words. Maybe one day we will meet again . . . in Berkeley, perhaps. But until, and if, that day comes . . . Goodbye 'Havoc'."

         Zero raised up from the couch, walking over to the camera. Reaching to turn it off, the view fell down to the floor, briefly capturing an image of a framed 8x10. The moment was brief, but it almost appeared to be of Zero . . . holding a title in the air. The moment of the picture was brief, as a hand quickly snatched it up. Suddenly, the view from the camera went to static.

midi: "Infected" by Bad Religion