The Final Resolution: Hell In The Cell

Part I: The Business Deal

Billy, I don't think any of that, my friend, applies to you. Your a Christian, and yet you have failed to 'follow the religion'. You have viciously assaulted me from time to time, your friends have helped you, my wounds are still fresh and I still hear the screams inside my mind, scraping away at me. Your screams, Billy, when we last fought each other in a Street Fight.

The screams of sheer terror, of pain and suffering. Kind of reminds me when I was fighting the entire Lunacchio Family, and I won that fight. They all died at the hands of Fly and myself, nowhere to run and nowhere to go. When I blew up a bus at the Skydome and killed many innocent people. Children, fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters. I killed them all. They are either up in your 'Heaven' or rotting down in Hell, where most of them belong.

But the question now is for you, Billy: Will you join the victims?

Yes, Dee, MY VICTIMS! Victims of my carnage and injustice. My 'sins', as you could indeed call them, that I have inflicted on this very earth. And the funny thing is, I still roam the streets, despite you trying to destroy me. I am unfuckable, and you Billy, just signed a one way contract to hell itself. The fires burning every instant that you remain in that depth of nothingness, the hot fiery temperature keeping you uncomfortable, the Devil himself punishing you for what you did on Earth. Does this sound like your worst nightmare? Or reality just ticking away before you are sent into Hell itself?

When you challenged me with this match, did you realise what you were challenging? You want to play Nicky Mills in his own backyard, where he is the Devil himself, the fiery rage still contained in me and ready to inflict on some poor fool without a future? Okay. You have done nothing but try to fuck with me time and time again, always trying to punish me for what I am and what I cannot be?

I will never become one of you. I am not a Christian man. I am not religious. I follow my own rules and follow my own guidelines to stick to these rules. You have broken ALL of my rules so far, and now your in the true incarnation of truth. Hell. Only, there is no escape. No way to crawl out and say 'Okay, I'll stop. Please, let me out.' It's only over Billy, when I say it's over. When I decide you have had enough, it will end.

Now why would I say I control the rules, I control the punishment and everything that will happen to you inside that structure. I am the Devil himself, Billy. I am sicker than any man in this game. I know no emotion, just the punishment I will inflict upon you and your religion. Everything you stand for will die that very night along with your bloodied broken carcass lying inside the ring, the term 'no mercy' being used that very cold night in Atlanta, Georgia.

I will be reborn as a fucking monster, Billy. One that will tear you apart and make you eat your words. And when I mean that, I mean you choking on your tongue as the monster decides what motion of punishment he will use on you.

But there will be no blame. For the past few weeks, you have done nothing but provoke me as the 'Second Coming Of Jesus' trying to show me the light. How can a man so far beyond the line be shown the light? How can he see how his actions are wrong and then try to lead a different life? You cannot.

The self is always there, watching through the eyes of the 'reborn', just waiting to finally snap and show their true feelings. Billy, that night you came back, you beat me down into a coma. That chair used against me, and I lay there covered in my own blood, while hearing the screams of the crowd, their horror in seeing a man once the master of these beatdowns now lying with no movement except for your eyes, staring up at the ceiling asking yourself 'Why?'

There is only one answer for you. You brought this all upon yourself. It was you that messed with me in the first place. It was you that beat me down along with your little religious cult, that think it's doing good. But really? It's bringing the Devil closer to home. You committed sins even though your religion demands not to. And for what? To outmatch me? Ha, don't think you cant outmatch me. You never could, and you never will. It's just a dream that you continue to dream, and that it will never come true.

Your little mindgame to make everyone believe 'The Voice' was going to replace the great Billy Dee, the Second Coming of Jesus, against the Devil himself, against the most vicious uncaring bastard to ever step inside a ring? Please. All you did was piss me off even more, and make your beating this Sunday at Dead End even more brutal for not only you, for everyone you know to be watching. I promise you Billy, the Street Fight is absolute child's play compared to this Hell In A Cell, for my Eurasian title, which I believe you don't deserve a title shot for.

But in any event, it's yours to have. But you will never beat me this time. I'm guaranteeing that you will be the victim of a horrifying slaughter at my hands. Your blood will be on my hands, and I wont give two shits.

All I will care about is torturing you as much as I can until you are beyond redemption. Scream all you want, cry all you want, and call for help, but they will not come. No, I banned them all from ringside as you witnessed at the end when Billy Dee, you cost me my match against Mike Wilson. He beat me because of YOU! And you have fucked with me long enough, Dee. Dead End, Billy, will be remembered for your very demise in professional wrestling.

So I guess God delivered you TO evil, instead of from.

And your daily bread? Once I'm through with you Billy, you will not be able to eat a damn thing. I'll leave you lying in the same position you left me in my coma, but this time, I'll leave you within an inch of death, and nothing will be able to prepare thou for the beating of a lifetime. Not a Street Fight, but a Hell in a Cell. And guess what?

Your friends aren't going to join you in this one. On your own once again. But this time, there will be no running away. Face your fears like a man, but you have nothing left going for you. The Eurasian title will be mine and 'retained successfully'. It will be a cold day in hell before I let you beat me in my very own game. The Devils Game.

And for you Dee, this is your Dead End.

The Business Deal?

*Note*: The following is not 'witnessed' and therefore is not to be mentioned in role-plays.

Nothing but a small hanging light from the ceiling provides sight for the figures in a small room, as the door is blocked by two large build bodyguards who are standing next to a figure.

This seems to be hours before the event Sunday Night Mayhem in the MGM Grande in Las Vegas, Nevada. We can recognize as Nicky Mills, who is wearing the same tuxedo we saw him in when interviewed by Cole Matthews. As we left off where the mystery man, who couldn't be identified, was seen to have offered Mills a business proposition of some sorts.. The man this time, is making sure he is still left unidentified, as he is wearing a ski mask and a hood to cover any part of his head. A large black briefcase is in the middle of the room, standing on a worn down wooden table, and Nicky is currently puffing on a Cuban cigar, which he currently rests on a glass ashtray.

Mysterious Figure: Now, let's get down to business, Mills. I know this seems risky, but I can promise you that you will not be linked to this whatsoever. It's your business, and you will be allowed to deal with it in any means necessary.

The controversial wrestler speaks up after the figure has ended his speech.

Nicky Mills: I'd like to trust you, but I don't. IF I was interested in this 'business', and that's an IF, then what makes you think I would hand over money to you, of all people? You say it's mine, but you must have some sort of agenda to it. And I ask, what is this agenda of yours?

Okay, Nicky, you've got me. In exchange for me to set up your business, I would like to be hired as part of this business. But you have to create a Family so they can help you with the operations. You cannot do this alone, and you must understand that.

I know. This will not be done alone.

Now, I'd like for you to know what if I was ever arrested by the police, that you must find some way to bail me out.

Nicky laughs when he hears this statement but the figure opposite him does not seem to find this amusing. Their body actions suggest this, and Mills shakes his head and his eyes look up at the masked figure.

The authorities are like cattle. All I have to do is bribe them, and they will do anything I want them to. I already have the CIA powerless against me.

Indeed, but this is more serious. A business such as this must be held with more regard. This could make you very rich, more rich than you ever could. You are a powerful man, but this will make you even more powerful than ever before.

Good point there. Now, how does this work? I pay you five million dollars for you to set it up across the globe.

We'll start with America, then travel around the world. Trust me, once we set it up here, we can set it up everywhere else.

Right.

Then, my friend, you just have to keep it stable. Make sure nobody ruins your business. You need the profit and you definatly need to keep your money in a safe place. Why am I telling you this? Your a smart enough man, right?

Of coarse.

So then...it's whether your really up for dealing with such a business.

The figure then pushes their briefcase towards Mills and opens it to reveal bags of white powder, probably cocaine. Nicky looks inside the bag and a small smile escapes his lips, before speaking once again to the figure.

You got a deal. I'll transfer the money into your account within the next few days.

It is agreed then.

Holding out his hand, the figure pulls the briefcase back towards him. Nicky lets out a belly laugh and shakes the figure's hand, and the scene fades slowly to darkness.